When Songbirds Fly | Bellamy Blake

Chapter Fifteen: Sting

TW// Insects, a little bit of injury detail (nothing too gory), someone being sick

—

It's been days since the bombing of the bridge. Patrols have doubled, the wall has been strengthened, we've prepared ourselves as best we can. And yet we all know it won't be enough. All we can do is hope for the best.

I've been working tirelessly to keep our water supplies up. Surprisingly, it takes a lot to keep over eighty kids hydrated and relatively clean. Especially after the outbreak. Our trips to the waterfall and river are becoming less frequent as the Grounder threat looms, and the rain doesn't come as often as we need. We're running out of options.

Sitting by the fire, my elbows resting against my knees, I begin to scrape at a small piece of charred wood with my knife. Lumps of black powder fall away into the pot that sits between my legs.

I hear footsteps as someone approaches, taking a seat on the log beside me. Looking up, I return Jasper's friendly smile. He digs his hands in his pockets and nods towards my soot stained hands. 'What are you doing?'

'Making some charcoal. Would be activated, but I can't remember the specifics,' I reply. Chuckling at his confused expression, I gesture to the splinters of wood that lie on a small metal lid on the ground. 'Wood burnt without the presence of oxygen,' I explain cheerfully, 'gotta file off the charcoal and grind it up into powder. Need it for my filters. And — if you ever get food poisoning — this'll do the trick. The special stuff'll work much better but we'll have to make do.'

'Look who was listening in Earth Skills.'

'Nah. If I wasn't skipping I was busy throwing paper at the back of Pike's head.'

Grinning, he shakes his head and takes one of the bits of charred twig, following my lead. He begins to speak but before he can get a chance to, there's a loud whoosh from behind us as the smoking house goes up in flames.

The two of us race towards them, grabbing some nearby containers on the way. It takes a few tries to put out the fire and at least four bucket's worth of water. Still, the flames refuse to retreat, stubbornly clinging to the wooden walls of the small shack.

'This is all your fault,' I hear Murphy yell from behind us, 'we told you it was too much wood!'

Turning on my heel, I have just enough time to see him lunge towards Del. The boy holds his hands out, shouting desperately. 'Get the hell away from me!' he snaps, punching Murphy square in the jaw.

I roll my eyes, walking past them to help Octavia to her feet. The shouting continues as someone intervenes.

'Hey,' I hear a familiar voice call, 'stop! Save it for the Grounders!'

Quickly striding past as Bellamy holds the two away from each other, I can feel his gaze burn into the back of my head as I snatch another bucket from the floor. A few more kids have come to help Jasper and I, using blankets and water and even wet leaves to keep the flames at bay.

Octavia groans, staring defeatedly at the destruction. 'Now what the hell are we gonna do? That was all the food!'

—

It takes another five minutes to fully extinguish the flames. By that time, the smoking house has been reduced to charred rubble.

Nudging a beam of blackened wood aside with my boot, I approach Clarke and Bellamy with a quiet sigh of frustration. 'Took too much water to put the fire out. We're gonna need to organise another trip to the waterfall, tomorrow at the latest.'