Petrichor - b blake

04

CHAPTER FOUR

in which flick fixes a radio

┈┈┈┈․° ☣︎ °․┈┈┈┈

"This is Felicity Callaway. Calling Ark Station. Come in Ark Station. This is Felicity Callaway. Calling Ark Station. Please come in, please, please. Can anybody hear me?" Flick spoke clearly into the headset, pressing it closer to her ear to drown out the noise.

Monroe watched her. "Are you sure you have the right frequency?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Flick snapped, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Clarke looked over. "Flick, you can do this. Okay?"

Flick nodded and glanced at the winds outside. "Calling Ark Station. Ark Station. Please come in. I'm on the ground with the hundred. We need you."

Clarke tried to help Finn, Flick was beginning to feel desperate. She began to doubt her skills. Maybe the radio really is broken. Maybe I'm not as good of a mechanic as I thought. Dammit.

"Are you there? Please come in," Flick pleaded into the radio. "Please... Calling Ark Station... The hundred are alive."

The delinquents huddled around Flick as she put her head in her hands. Finn is going to die because of me.

"This is a resurrected station. Who is this? Please identify yourself."

"Oh my fuck! This is Felicity Callaway. I'm from Mechanic Station. I'm transmitting from the ground. The hundred are alive. Please, you need to get Doctor Abby Griffin. Doctor Abby Griffin, now."

"Hang on Felicity, we're trying to boost your signal," the man spoke. Flick didn't even have the heart to correct him to call her Flick. She was just grateful it worked.

The crowd cheers and Flick smiled in relief. "Flick are you there?" Abby spoke through the radio.

Flick handed Clarke the headset and stepped aside to take a breather.

"Clarke, is my son with you?" Chancellor Jaha's voice came through the radio. Clarke hesitated, so Flick grabbed the microphone. "I'm so sorry, Wells is dead."

Flick looked out the flap covering the drop ship, the storm coming closer and getting worse by each second. The radio began to cut out. "Flick! What's wrong?!"

"It's not the radio, it's the storm!" Flick shouted, beginning to panic, because there was no telling with the weather. It was out of their hands.

Flick stabilized the radio and took a swig of the moonshine before pouring some over her hands to sanitize them.

"One stitching needle," Flick said, holding it out to Clarke.

Clarke took it and looked around. "I still need something to close the wound."

"There's some wire on the second level. I used it for the tents," Octavia said, and Flick's head snapped up.

"Stay away from the blue wires that run through the ceiling. I rigged it to the solar cells in the roof. That means they're hot! You got that?!"

Octavia nodded and climbed up the ladder. Several minutes passed before someone shouted. "They're back!"

Bellamy led the way in, his group carrying a grounder inside. Octavia came down at that moment and they had a little fight.

"Clarke, okay, we're ready. Can you hear me?" Abby's voice crackled over the radio. "Clarke?"

Bellamy's eyes met Flick's, widened in shock. He looked away and brought the grounder upstairs. Flick assisted Clarke with Abby's directions until the delinquents on the main floor became too loud.