Fear The 1OO

Chapter One

Nick

  The walls of Nick's cell felt like home, at this point, a full year after his arrest in the common area of Phoenix station. He sat upright and ran hands through his tangled hair. The air around him was stale, quiet. Trying to busy his mind, he pictured a place far from here. Closing his eyes, he thought of his best friend. He thought of food rations and laughter around a small television. Color, warmth. Nick remembered a time before he had been considered a threat to The Ark's survival, a criminal.

  "Nick, grab my notes from the counter," Clarke laughed, "I told mom we're studying."
  Groaning, Nick obliged, and joined his friend on the pale grey couch. The girl in front of him was bubbling, intelligent. Her kinked blonde hair fell in waves over her shoulders. She read questions, quizzing him, as he tried to keep up with her wit.
  Clarke had saved his life, long ago, convincing her mother to let him stay in their quarters after his own mother had been floated for something he never spoke of. He felt forever indebted to her. The Griffin family was humble, giving, never asking a thing of him.
  Even at his worst, when they should have been kicking him to the slums.
  "Are you meeting Wells after class?" Nick mentioned, "I have errands to run."
  "Errands?" Clarke eyed him sideways, "I'm supposed to meet my parents for something."

  Nick wasn't prepared to shoulder a crying Clarke, just hours later, as she ranted and raved to him about countless scientific things he couldn't quite grasp.
  "The Ark will run out of supply.... the air won't last.... life support will fail.... Earth is survivable.... the Chancellor plans to keep this a secret from the population, etcetera."
  "Clarke," Nick pulled her into a small hug, "Slow down for me."
  "My dad plans to hack the systems," Clarke's face grew panicked, "He's going to - I walked in on them. I wasn't supposed to hear them. I'm - I'm going to see Wells."
  Wells Jaha was the Chancellor, Thelonius Jaha's, son. Most of the time, Nick assumed he was Clarke's boyfriend, but playing the protective brother was hard for him. He wanted her to be happy, and he sure as Hell had problems of his own, so he didn't pay as much attention as he'd liked to. Feigning worry, he spoke up, "Is that the best idea?"
  "I can't let them do this, Nick," Clarke's face hardened, strength setting in over fear, "Treason is punishable by death. My parents - our parents. My dad will die for these people." She grabbed his hand, squeezing it before heading off down the dimly lit hall.
  Little did he know, this would be the last he saw of Clarke for some time.

  His dear friend had been arrested that day, along with her father. Nicholas heard whispers of Jake's execution, how Clarke and Abby had watched. Clarke only to be shackled away by guards just after. Abby seemed to be the only Griffin left unscathed.
  The doctor, whom he had once considered the closest thing to a mother he'd ever had, tried reaching out to Nick in the following days, but he had other plans.
  His opiate addiction needed feeding, and a young man named Jasper Jordan knew where to score. For years, Clarke had been working with him on sobriety. Now, days passing after her arrest, the dread had overcome his want to stay clean. He caved, thinking maybe, if they caught him, at the very least they could be together in the prison wing of The Colony.
  The deal went swiftly, until Nick turned to leave towards Walden, bumping into a guard. "What did you swap with the Jordan kid over there in the Commons?"
  Caught in the act. Young Nick was arrested and placed in a cell just hours later.
  These weren't memories he wished to dwell on, but these days it was all he thought of.


Clarke

  A young woman sat on the floor of her cell, sketching. Though Clarke had been groomed to follow her mother's footsteps in medicine, art was her real niche. She spent her year in confinement decorating the dull cell space with pictures of the Earth.
  A place kids on The Ark only dreamed about.
  Trees, fresh air, blue skies. There was only so much she could do with a piece of charcoal, but her drawings were realistic and detailed. "Nick would love these," she whispered aloud, running her fingers over the floor.

  Clarke watched blankly as her friend Wells moved chess pieces in front of her, he smirked, motioning towards the board, "Clarke. You're up. Clarke."
  "Sorry," she mumbled, trying to focus. Clarke moved her queen forward two spaces.
  "Well if your strategy is to lose really fast, that was a great move," Wells sighed, trying to make his friend smile. Feeling her mood. "What's going on?"
  "Nothing."
  "You can talk to me," Wells answered.
  Clarke weighed her options, this is why she had come here. She had to tell him, she had to trust him. "My dad found a problem with the oxygen system... I'm not supposed to know."
  Wells raised his eyebrows, "They've had other malfunctions. They always figure out a way to deal with it."
  "No," Clarke snapped, then lowered her voice, "This one might not be fixable... The council doesn't want anyone to know."
  "The council meaning my dad?"
  "Yeah," she eyed her friends concerned facial expressions, praying she could trust this, "And my mom and the others.. I think he's gonna go public anyway."
  "He'll get floated," Wells replied.
  "I know. But what if he's right? Don't people deserve to know the truth?" Clarke felt hopeless, "You can't tell your dad I told you. You can't tell anyone."
  "Your secrets safe with me," Wells smiled.

  But that wasn't necessarily true.
  Clarke shivered, remembering that last conversation with Wells. She missed him in ways, but she hated him even more. She blamed him.
  Suddenly, Clarke still on the floor with her drawings, the door to her cell flew open.
  Two guards, a doctor, and more commotion came from outside.
  "Prisoner 319, face the wall."
  "What is this?" her flight or fight instincts kicked, and Clarke was a fighter.
  "Quiet, hold out your right arm," one of them said.
  "No, no! It's not my time. I don't turn eighteen for another month," she squirmed.
  "Hold out your arm! Your watch."
  "No! It was my father's," she pleaded.
  The guard turned hostile, "Take it off."
  "No! Hey -" Now they were wresting with her, forcing her out of her cell, a panicked feeling rose in her throat. "No!"
  They yanked her into the hallway where other kids were being pulled out of their cells, "Prisoner 319 -"
  "Clarke, stop," her mother's voice, the struggle stopped and Clarke calmed, if only for a moment, "Wait here," Abby ordered the guards.
  "Mom? Mom, what's going on? What is this?" she felt small, scared of the unknown.
  "Come on, lets go," Abby soothed her, trying to pull her along.
  "They're killing us all, aren't they? Reducing population to make more time for the rest of you?" Her brain spun with possibilities as she searched for answers.
  "Clarke, you are not being executed," Abby touched her daughter's frightened face, "You're being sent to the ground, all hundred of you."
  The ground.
  "What? But it's not safe. No, no - we get reviewed at eighteen."
  "The rules have changed. This gives you a chance to live," Abby replied, fighting back emotion, "Your instincts will tell you to take care of everybody else first, just like your father. But be careful," Abby was rushing, advising her daughter for what could be the last time, "I can't lose you, too. I love you so much."
  Abby held Clarke in a tight hug, cradling her head, as she and the other guards stuck the young girl with a drug, knocking her unconscious for the flight down, "Earth, Clarke. You get to go to Earth."
  The room dimmed, Clarke sunk into a dark abyss with her heart thudding in her chest.
  Earth.