Raise Hell || The 100 [sequel to Hell and Back]

13 | Breakdown

A low, pained groan flitted from my dry lips as the guard's hand wrapped around my left bicep tightened his grip. The two guards carried my upper torso while the toes of my boots dragged across the dirt pathway. The lights of the Ark blurred together up ahead as we neared the massive camp of our people.

My body craved to fall back into the dark abyss of my unconsciousness, but I fought harder agains the temptation, despite the cloudy haze in my head and the searing red, stabbing pain in my arm. I struggled to keep my eyes open through it all.

"Secure the perimeter!" A woman's voice loudly cut through the air, shouting toward the front of the group. "Teams of three! Hundred yard buff!"

A bright flash of light momentarily blinded me as a guard swung the light around in different directions. I blinked through the black spots in my vision until I noticed giant, metal doors protecting the Ark from the outside.

"Open the gate!" The woman demanded.

A grimace formed on my facial features at the intense sensation of my skull filling with cement. My neck felt too weak to hold my head up as it rolled back and forth with every step the guards took, only briefly catching sight of what laid ahead of me when it rolled far enough to the side.

The blonde woman leaned down close to Clarke's face— who was held up by two other guards as well. "How many of you are there?" She demanded in a rough voice. She glanced between the two of us.

Our people treated us as if we were the enemies and, to them, we were. They couldn't recognize our faces through the dirt and blood caked on our faces. My face was barely covered, but I wasn't well known on the Ark. No one recognized my face because no one had ever seen me. I was trapped in a cell all my life.

I was a nobody and I still was.

The woman looked back and forth between us, waiting for a response until she realized she wouldn't receive one. My tongue weighted down in my mouth like a small piece of lead. The thought of speaking or even attempting to make a proper sentence seemed impossible to do from the excessive pounding in my head.

"Let's go!" The woman shouted after our lack of response.

They shot at us and killed Anya because they believed we were Grounders. I've witnessed firsthand what our people were capable of when interacting with Grounders and I knew this wouldn't end well for the two of us if we weren't able to tell them who we really were.

All I could think about at the moment was the bleeding bullet wound in my bicep and how the guard on my left side continued to inch his fingers closer to the hole. If I had the strength, I would have punched the guard by now and slipped out of their hold. I didn't have my usual strength, though.

"We gotta get them to medical! Move! Move!"

The voices sounded muffled, almost as if they were heard through a wall and talking in low voices. My body continuously tried to fall into a deep slumber, one where I no longer felt pain. All I wanted to do was sleep, yet one thing kept me fighting against the urge.

"Be..." My lips refused to form the word and work properly. Everything was too foggy.

The guards carried our bodies through the gate and stopped halfway through the camp to the Ark. I sensed our people standing off to the sides, simply watching the two of us be dragged through their new home.

"— they're not prisoners!" A new voice broke through the mix. "That's my daughter!"

My head and neck radiated with pain as I peered over at a brunette woman running over to Clarke's slumped figure. My vision blurred until my eyes refaced and I was able to recognize the woman as Abby Griffin.