When I hit the ground, there was no pain in my body. Some screams came from around me, and when I opened my eyes, a blur of commotion made me feel dizzy, sick even. When I found I could sit up, I knew that I had not been shot. As my pupils focused in on my surroundings, I could see Lincoln slaughtering the shooter in a single slice of his blade. The man fell down the cavern, out of sight and out of mind.

                Lincoln turned, blood on his face, looking at me with a grave expression that suggested the worst.

                 When I finally tuned in to the immediate surroundings, I spotted a black lump that was Bjorn.

                A groan came from him, and I knew that he was still alive. Fumbling to reach him, I crawled through the rocks and the ashes, my hand catching on something sharp and nicking my skin. I ignored this as I reached Bjorn; he was lying on his side. Placing my hand on his shoulder, I began to roll him onto his back, but a painful cry emerged from his lips and I knew that he was wounded beyond what I could even imagine.

                “Not you too.” I whispered, feeling tears sliding down my filthy cheeks.

                Lincoln was beside me in a flash, and the others began to crowd around. I could feel bruises forming on my arm and hips where I had hit the ground. Lincoln managed to roll Bjorn onto his back, ignoring his groans of pain and agony. Even through the black clothing he covered himself with, I could see the blood seeping through. Red and taunting, it began to cover much of Bjorn’s chest, and soon my own hands as I gently touched just outside his bullet wound.

                The Grounder coughed some blood and I swiftly wiped it away from his lips, as if would make him feel any better.

                “What the hell did you do that for!?” I cried out, hearing my voice crack pitifully.

                Bjorn cracked a smile, then croaked, “I’ve seen Earth; you haven’t.”

                “I’ve seen enough.” I said, “You can’t leave me too.”

                “Move.” Abby’s voice cut through the obvious tension and sorrow in the air.

                Lincoln rose, giving her room to check the wound.

                “Abby, please save him.”

                “I have nothing…” She told me. “No anesthetic or tools.”

                “Clarke saved many people without those luxuries!” I cried.

                “I will do what I can.” She sighed.

                “Don’t you die on me.” I placed my hand on Bjorn’s cheek. “I’ve already lost so much.”

                Octavia grabbed my arm and pulled out of Abby’s way. The woman grabbed Bjorn’s dagger and cut open his shirt, revealing his body to everyone. His entire chest was covered in blood, and more was seeping out of the bullet wound dead center; between his ribs, right where his heart was. Abby pulled off her jacket and began to wipe away some of the excess blood, but more continue to spill down his body. I could see him gritting his teeth, eyes focused on the bright blue sky.

                “More will come.” He said. Even after Abby told him to be quiet and to stop moving, he still spoke, “The gunfire will alarm them. Take the tunnels, and leave.”

                “I won’t leave you to their savagery.”

                “I didn’t tell you the truth…” He coughed, sitting up and pushing Abby’s hands away from his body. “I knew why Sonja was in the river.”       

                “Why?” I asked, sobbing now. It amazed me that I could still cry after all the tears I shed for Bellamy.

                “They took her.” He said, forcing himself to his knees and then to his feet. Lincoln allowed Bjorn to lean on him, “Tested on her. Turned her mad.”

                “She killed herself.” I realized.

                He nodded, “I wasn’t enough to save her.”

                “You saved me.” I told him, looking up at his strong frame; the strength seeping through his wound, all the life in his body draining quickly.

                A smile formed on his lips, lips I had once kissed. “Go, more will be coming.”

                “And you’re staying…”

                “Might as well take out as many…” he coughed for a moment, “As many as I can.”

                “I won’t forget you.” I said, “And what you have done for me… for everyone.”

                Octavia had slipped away moments before, and alongside Sinclair, they rushed towards us, “He’s right, there is at least a dozen.”

                “Shouldn’t we try to talk to them?” Abby asked.

                “You saw what they did to Bjorn, without a moments hesitation.”

                “Maybe they aren’t targeting us, but him?” Abby sad, desperate for something as she knew these people had her daughter.

                “They shot at me, remember?” I reminded the woman.

                Lincoln stepped back from Bjorn and the large Grounder, eyes blue as the sky, pulled out dual swords. Just when I thought he was going to choose them as his weapons, he placed them on the ground in front of him, then pulled out four daggers along the edges of his boots. Lincoln handed him some throwing blades and patted him on the shoulder before nodding at him. The gesture was thoughtful, and though I knew Bjorn was going to die here tonight, I couldn’t seem to get myself to hug him. All I could do was look into his eyes.

                “Get goin’, kiddo.” He said to me, reminding me of the first nickname he had given me back at the Grounder camp before he helped me break free.

                His large muscles were now glimmering with blood; the sunlight was drying the fluid, caking it to his body, though more pulsed from the wound. The blood flow had lessened, however, which revealed that he had lost a good amount of blood and it could now hardly be pumped through his body.

                “Ava, let’s go.” Octavia tugged my arm and I stumbled slightly before falling into step with her.

                Lincoln was up ahead, guiding everyone to the tunnels. They were our last chance of escaping the Mountain Men, and if we made it, we could never come back to this location ever again. There was too much pain and death here. It was no longer a home, but a graveyard.

                I could hear Bjorn’s war cry; a carnal roar that seemed to shake the world, or at least me. Just before the edge of the tunnel, I glanced back, but was forcefully pushed in by Octavia. The gunfire and screams were all that could be made out as I ducked into the small tunnel; only my imagination could create what sort of slaughter had happened that day.

Currently writing Chapter 70, the final chapter. Really, really excited to see what you guys think of it. I haven't actually written in a very long time, and endings are really hard for me. I am trying my best to make a conclusive, balanced ending. Comments and votes are adored!