The 100 IV Trials Of Contrast

Chapter 19 Wells

The camp gate opened with an uneasy screech, as Wells and Eugene stepped inside. Everyone seemed busy at work, screwing in screws, hammering in nails, constructing parts. No one even took the time to greet Wells and Eugene, crowds just flew past them, not even noticing the weapons that they possessed. Wells walked right over to Raven, who was nailing some nails in a long board. Wells crossed his arms. 

"Whoa, what is going on!? What is everyone doing?" He asked, tilting his head slightly to the left. raven didn't meet his gaze, she just continued working on the long boards. 

"We are going to shoot some rounds of flares up to The Ark, so they know we're alive...We are just working on the Launchers." Raven said,cautiously moving a large jug of gasoline to her right. Wells felt like this was something he totally would of enjoyed doing, signaling The Ark, but he didn't engage. He just moved right past Raven, and over towards the center of camp, whistling as loud as ever, gaining everyone's attention. Every eye in the camp locked on him, some halted in their wrenching, while others lazily shifted their vision on him. 

"Attention everyone!" he said once more, gaining the attention of the indolent slackers, who were all inactively lurking near the camp walls. "Eugene and I, went on a little trip, to bring back these!" Wells gestured down towards a large sack, filled with rifles. Eugene stuck his hand in, and pulled out what looked like a shotgun. Everyone's eyes lit up in wonder, as some teens looked as if they were going to barge forward and rob one. "We are going to use these attentively and responsibly..these weapons are not for shooting each other, no, there for defending ourselves, against the Grounders." Everyone nodded, some chit chat going on in the back, but Wells ignored the less responsible ones like Murphy and his crew. Wells was beginning to grow angry, a ball of fire which rested in his stomach was beginning to unload, as his brows furrowed, and his teeth grit. Clarke is gone, he and Eugene discussed this while they were out. Shes probably dead, probably couldn't outrun the Grounders. 

He grabbed the rifle from Eugene's hand, and aimed it up in the sky, firing. A silence swept among the camp as not a single word was spoken. Wells stared briefly at everyone before speaking up once more. "The Grounders took my friend, Clarke. She is gone. She sacrificed herself for me. Alyson. And Raven...For if anymore Grounders are seen, we will kill them, in memory of the girl, whose life got taken away, to protect her friends..Let Clarke Griffin be avenged!" Wells yelled, everyone raising their fists into the air, agreeing with him, even the sneaky ones lurking towards the back praised Wells. Everyone seemed convinced, until Finn stepped forward, his hands on his hips, and his face straight. 

"Hold on, your telling me you want us to be killers?" Finn asked discreetly, crossing his arms. Wells gave him a quizzical look, before shaking his head. 

"No, I want you all to be Warriors..be the Grounders, be strong, be heroic." Wells voice carried across the camp, even Bellamy who was tucked inside the Dropship had hear him. 

"Yeah, Basically killers. Look everyone, I know the Grounders have killed us in the past, but they aren't a bunch of violent murderers out there searching for their next kill...they are real people, like us." Finn snorted, a few eyes landing on him. Wells felt dumbfounded, as he trekked forward to meet Finns gaze. 

"Tell me, Spacewalker. Why are you on their side so much, when you know what they are capable of. The people in this camp they killed..." Wells hissed. 

"Listen Chancellor, they may have been killing us, but that is only because we went against a three strike rule. Strike one, we landed in their territory. Strike two, the descendants of the other half of the Dropship, they fought the Grounders first, starting this whole damn thing. And Strike three, this is all going to continue if people like you keep stepping up to the plate and trying to convince us go to war." Finns words were true, and pure. Wells shook his head. 

"How are you so blind? Why do you trust them so much? What makes you think they are everyday people, like you and me?" Wells tone was beginning to get deeper, as an agitated look swept across his face. 

"Because. Their not animals. I shot ones son, and they grieved, and cried, and cowered. Their no different from you and me, they are people. Period." Finn spoke, his expression remaining solid, and stiff. Wells stared at him blankly. Not making a move. 

"Those who are smart..and agree with my plans...Pick a gun up, and stay armed. Any Grounder that comes an inch near this camp, blow their faces off." Wells said loudly. Crowds overflowed to the guns, while only a few of that percent remained still, staying with Finn. The camp broke up. The ones who believe in a new peace, are on Finns side. And those seeking war, on Wells side. The camp is against itself. Two people with a horrid past facing off with their own section of people in one camp. Peace, Or War?