When Songbirds Fly | Bellamy Blake

Chapter Thirty-Five: Ye Who Enter Here

TW// Injury, hospital scene setting, flashbacks, gore, death

—

I spent the night sat on the porch, waiting hopefully for Bellamy and the others to return. They don't. Even when morning comes, there is nothing.

Then, in the distance, I see the gates open. Octavia and Lincoln rush across the empty streets, leading a horse with someone lying on its back.

'What's going on?' I shout as I rush towards them, the ice still proving difficult for my crutches to move on.

'Our friend, he's hurt. Help us.'

Nodding, I try to rush ahead of them as they lift the Grounder down from the horse, opening the door for them. A few guards already have a stretcher at the ready.

'Abby? Abby, it's Nyko,' Octavia says, breathless as the two of us burst into Medical. I hold the door open to allow the guards to carry him in.

'He said it was Azgeda,' Lincoln adds, 'the Ice Nation.'

'Where?'

He shakes his head, eyes frantic and his breath coming out in sharp pants. 'We don't know.'

While Jasper — who was having his check up — and I step back to allow them some room, Jackson runs over from the other side of the room to examine the man's injuries. 'His pulse is weak and he's burning up.'

'Clotting has stopped the flow but he's lost too much blood.'

'I'll type him.'

I try to force myself to watch as they tend to his wounds but all I can focus on is the pain that's starting to spread up my leg. Someone helps to steady me as I stumble back, slumping down on one of the beds. It's the same bed I spent two weeks lying in, the same bed in which I first realised just how much Mount Weather had changed my life.

The pain is excruciating. It burns my skin and boils my blood, like a thousand white hot pokers are being driven into my leg.

I can hear the drill, the screams, the cracking of bones.

I can see her eyes.

She's holding my hand again. Hers is cold and pale, so distorted by death that its shape is the only thing that identifies it as a hand.

I blink. When I look down again, the colour is restored to her skin and I realise that it's not her at all. It's Jasper. He smiles weakly, but when I look into his eyes I don't see much more life in them than she had.

The others are talking about blood. Something about his blood type isn't right.

Octavia pulls off her gloves. 'We're universal donors. Here, take mine.'

'No. You can't. RH Null can only take RH Null.'

Lincoln holds his arm towards Jackson who, somewhat reluctantly, takes a sample from his wrist. The young doctor shakes his head.

Nobody speaks.

Glancing around, Octavia leans over Nyko. Her desperate eyes fix on Abby's. 'I don't understand. Can you save him or not?'