Psychopath | | Bellamy Blake

Murphy

By the time they had arrived back at the campsite, James was ready to fall down and never get up. Octavia had run off somewhere, which left him leaning against a tree as he gazed around the campsite.

He had yet to see Dax since he was back, which should have been a good thing, but he felt like at any moment, the boy would pop back into his life and hurt him again.

At least most delinquents around the camp had stopped ridiculing him; some of them had even made an effort to be nice to him. Others just couldn't let what he had done go - including himself.

Ridding himself of the thoughts, he smiled as he saw Jasper telling a story to a few girls by the campfire. He also noticed Monty and Octavia talking as they both leaning up against the giant fence they had built around the camp.

Suddenly a clattering sounded, followed by a shout, "Somebody hit the tripwire!"

Numerous yells of confusion, fear, and excitement soared through the air as James put his hand on the ground, prepared to run if anything came near him. He was not going back to that prison.

"Something moved!"

"There, there, there!"

One of the gunners shot three bullets in the direction of the tripwire, trying to hit whatever was outside the barrier.

As the two gunners moved toward the exit of the barrier, Octavia followed them.

James stayed sitting against the tree, nervously waiting for the guards' return but ready to move if something really was attacking the camp.

After a few minutes of waiting for the guards and Octavia to come back, three figures emerged from the tree. The two guards seemed to be dragging a limp body as they headed in the direction of the dropship.

Curious, James got up with a groan as he weakly walked toward where they had disappeared under the flap.

As soon as he entered, he surveyed the surroundings, trying to find the body. His eyes landed on a figure bunched up against the wall, caked in blood and dirt. Guards stood beside them at the ready.

At first, he assumed his eyes were playing tricks on him, that maybe he was dehydrated and hallucinating things - but when he rubbed his eyes and looked again, the image stayed the same.

"Murphy?"

The only response he got was ragged breathing. James dashed over and kneeled to the ground, his gaze drifting over the numerous cuts and gashes over the boy's body.

"I thought you were dead." He whispered as he reached out to touch a cut but retracted his hand as Murphy flinched.

"I thought you were dead too," Murphy croaked out as their gaze met. Before they could continue the conversation, he heard two more pairs of footsteps enter the tent.

His head snapped around as he saw Bellamy standing there, gun in his head as a glimmer of hurt swarmed in his eyes. Clarke stood behind him, shocked at the state of the boy.

"Everyone but Conner and Derek out... now!"

James stood up but didn't leave his place beside Murphy.

"He claims he was with the grounders," Derek - one of the guards- spoke, obvious distaste for the injured boy laced into his words.

"We caught him trying to sneak back into camp," Conner - the other guard - said.

"I wasn't sneaking," Murphy muttered. "I was running from the grounders."

"How did you get away?" James questioned fear in his eyes at the prospect of going back into the cell.