At last

Chapter twenty seven

Clarke's point of view

The time practically flew by.
By the end of the second day of our digging, the pile was looking a lot less daunting than it had when we first started. Everyone's spirits were high, since we knew we still had five more days and the digging was going smoothly so far. We fell asleep with positive moods and full stomachs (thanks to that mutated bear).
By the end of the third day, Bellamy determined that we were halfway to the bunker. Everybody's confidence rose; we were definitely going to do this in time.
After six long years, we were going to see the rest of our friends and families again.
That revelation seemed to be on the group's mind as they drifted to sleep that night.
I contentedly observed my friends' sleeping faces from where I sat in the back of the rover, moonlight illuminating our campsite. I allowed my thoughts to wander as the peace and quiet of my current surroundings enveloped me.
I was going to see my mother again. God, I hoped she was okay. I hoped that Marcus made her happy, kept her spirits high amongst the cramped quarters of the bunker.
At this, my thoughts drifted to Octavia. Even I would have probably been driven mad trying to maintain the peace for five years in that bunker. How could she have done it?
Unconsciously, my eyes landed on Bellamy, a small smile tugging at my lips. The Blakes were a force to reckon with. I shouldn't doubt Octavia's capabilities.
I swung my legs from where they dangled in the air off of the back of the rover. Glancing behind me at Madi's sleeping figure, I let out a breath and pushed off.
Deciding against taking a rifle with me due to the lack of threats in this tiny forest, I settled on taking my hunting knife that I always carried with me and slipped away into the shadows of the brush.
The cool night air calmed me as I breathed it in. As I walked, I observed just how green and alive the trees and plants surrounding me were. I recalled the times of Praimfaya: radioactive snow, yellow skies, acid rain, the silence of the forest that accompanied the death of wildlife.
Shaking away the memories, I smiled in admiration of this planet's will to survive. Two devastating nuclear fallouts and Earth was still determined to create life.
Reaching the tree line, I looked out into Polis (if it could still be called that). Admiring our progress on the tower, I sat in the grass, crossing my legs.
I basked in the silence. I hadn't gotten time to myself in years, and it was glorious.
Until, a few minutes later, the quiet was broken by the sound of a twig snapping.
My head whipped behind me as I searched the darkness, my hand flashing to my knife secured in my belt.
I heard a deep female voice let out a huff of irritation, and I relaxed. I knew who it was. I turned back to the tower.
I felt her approaching me, remaining silent. She came to stand beside me.
"What are you doing out here?" She asked after a few moments.
"I could ask you the same thing, Echo."
Echo let out a breath through her nose, "I've come to enjoy time to myself."
I nodded in understanding. I gestured to the grass beside me, "Join me."
She silently complied, seating herself.
A minute passed before I broke the silence, trying for a conversation, "How was life in space?"
Echo let out an unhumourous snort. "Dull, to say the least. I can't imagine how your people lived up there for their entire lives."
"It was a miserable existence, I assure you," I glanced over at her.
She frowned. "The ground is my birthplace, my home. I intend for it to remain that way."
Another minute passed.
"Living in space was a whole lot better than living down here in those first few years after Praimfaya," I commented.
Echo nodded, "I suppose so. On the Ring, I sometimes looked at Earth through a large window. I saw the state of it. Surviving on this planet for those six years was nothing short of a miracle." She looked to me in admiration. When I gave her a small smile, she looked away, her gaze growing distant. "Bellamy spent most of his time in that room with the window. He made that place his room in the first year."
I felt a pang in my heart at her words.
She continued, "That year was definitely the worst for him. He was like a walking corpse. He hardly wanted to interact with anyone. We all agreed on a certain room on the Ring to be our training area, where we could exercise and work on our fighting techniques. Bellamy took out his anger, his desperation, in that room. Him and I would train together, as a coping method," she hesitated before her next words, "We bonded over that."
I released a breath, refusing to look at her. I could see her trying to decipher my expression from the corner of my eye, so I carefully kept my face blank.
Echo carried on, "We quickly became friends. We told each other about our pasts, our worries and troubles." I heard the emphasis of her following statement, "I was the one who brought him from his depression. I could imagine a future on the ground with Bellamy at my side, and I'm sure that he could too." She swallowed thickly, "Until he heard your radio."
I interrupted, "Why are you telling me this?"
"When you were alive, I was willing to push aside my admiration for Bellamy because I could see your feelings for each other. I didn't want to come between that. When we thought that you were dead, I helped Bellamy through his grief. I've always wanted what was best for him. We developed feelings for each other, and your coming back from the dead confuses him." Echo narrowed her eyes. "I'm not planning on rolling over while you take him away from me once again. Bellamy is mine."
I gaped, disbelief and anger forming on my face. "Are you serious? Bellamy isn't an object to be claimed; he's a person with his own thoughts and feelings! Why don't you let him decide who he wants to be with?"
Echo's icy gaze turned to one of fury as she launched herself at me, tackling me to the ground. Before I knew it, I was lying on the ground with my hunting knife pressed to my throat.
I glared up at Echo, who growled, "This doesn't have to be hard, Clarke. Leave Bellamy alone, and you won't be harmed."
"If I told anyone at camp about this, especially Bellamy, your chances with him would be close to none. So, just put the knife away, and I'll pretend this never happened. It doesn't have to be this way."
Echo stilled, thinking. After a few moments, she sat up, removing the knife and getting off of me.
I jumped to my feet, still on edge. I held out my hand, silently asking for the knife back. She clutched it tighter, seemingly having an internal war with herself before handing it over to me.
Securing the knife in my belt, I nodded. "Good. I won't tell anyone about this if you don't. I'm going back to camp. I suggest that you do the same; we have a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow."
Echo silently nodded, refusing to meet my gaze.
As I turned away, I noticed Echo crouching down. Before it could register, however, I heard the metallic ring of a blade being unsheathed. As I began to turn back, drawing my knife, I felt the searing pain of a knife being stabbed into my thigh.
I screamed in pain, crumpling to the ground as Echo yanked the blade out of the wound.
Feeling the warm blood beginning to erupt from the stab wound, the last thing I was aware of was the steel toe of a boot connecting with my forehead.
And then, blackness.
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