Cloaked Heart (Silent Moments Series: Book 3)

Chapter 10

 Time stretched on, and the room remained cloaked in a heavy silence broken only by my occasional efforts to free myself. The minutes turned into hours, and I found myself lost in the labyrinthine corridors of my thoughts, replaying every decision that had led me to this point. When the door finally swung open, it revealed Bellamy, his presence filling the room with tension. His eyes betrayed a complex mix of emotions—anger, doubt, and a hint of sorrow. Without a word, he proceeded to attach one end of the handcuffs to the table, securing me in place. The palpable reluctance in his actions was mirrored by his avoidance of eye contact, leaving a chasm of unspoken words between us. With his departure, I was left alone in the dimly lit room, my mind churning with regrets and unresolved questions. The handcuffs served as a stark symbol of my predicament, a stark reminder of the choices that had led me here.

Hours dragged on, the seconds echoing in the silence, and my determination remained unbroken despite the odds. I continued my futile struggle, fueled by a relentless desire to break free. It was only when a guard arrived to escort me down a dimly lit hallway that my fortunes took an unexpected turn. The guard, seemingly unaffected by my presence, suddenly collapsed to the ground. As I stood there, bewildered, Octavia materialized before me, her appearance a beacon of hope in the depths of my despair. Her unexpected arrival held the promise of a new beginning, and I couldn't help but wonder what role she would play in my uncertain future.

Bellamy's voice thundered with disbelief, "You can't just hit a guard!" His eyes were wide, mirroring his shock.

Unfazed, Octavia retorted with fierce determination, "I just did. Now let him go," her stance unwavering, hands clenched in defiance.

"I can't do that," he responded, his tone laced with a mix of frustration and resignation.

In that heated moment, I exchanged a knowing glance with her. Her distraction of Bellamy was my golden opportunity for escape. Octavia's bravery had shifted the balance. With my heart pounding, I seized the moment: I lunged for Bellamy's shock lasher, which hung loosely at his side. My fingers wrapped around the cool, metallic handle, a surge of adrenaline empowering me. With a swift, calculated movement, I wielded it for its intended, electrifying purpose. The shock lasher came to life, crackling with energy, and I delivered a stunning shock to him.

"Come on, Kegan, hurry," she whispered urgently, her voice barely rising above a hush yet laden with a mix of fear and resolve. In the dim, flickering light of the corridor, her eyes darted anxiously around, vigilant for any sign of pursuit. My hands, slick with a cold sweat, fumbled with the handcuffs, the metal clinking softly against itself. The lock finally gave way with a satisfying click, freeing me from its iron grip.

As we turned to flee, I couldn't help but cast a lingering glance back at Bellamy. His figure, now a silhouette against the sparse light, stood motionless. The look of profound betrayal etched on his face pierced through me, embedding itself in my memory. His eyes, usually so full of command and certainty, now mirrored a heart-wrenching mix of hurt and confusion. Our escape was a blur of shadowy corridors and echoing footsteps. The cold, sterile walls of the facility rushed by in a monochrome blur as we hastened toward our only route to freedom. My chest heaved with each breath, a mix of exertion and a gnawing sense of guilt. Bellamy's pained expression haunted me, stirring a turmoil of regret and self-doubt. 'I never should have come back. I can't save anyone,' the thoughts pounded in my head, a relentless drumbeat of despair. Bursting into the hatch area, we were greeted by the anxious faces of Abby, Clarke, and Kane. They stood under the harsh, artificial light, their expressions painting a complex tapestry of relief, concern, and unspoken questions. Their presence was a stark reminder of the gravity of our actions and the uncertain path that lay ahead.

"Mom," I murmured, the word laden with a mix of relief and desperation as I enfolded her in a hug. Her familiar warmth briefly shielded me from the cold, harsh realities we faced. Her arms, a safe haven in our uncertain world, tightened around me.

"We know everything. We know what Pike did. Is there anything we can do to stop the attack?" Her voice trembled, each word heavy with fear and the weight of unspoken hope. Her eyes, pools of worry and love, searched mine for an answer I wasn't sure I had.

Octavia cut in with a fierce resolve that resonated in her voice, "We came here to give them Pike." Her stance was as unyielding as her conviction.

Kane, his face a tapestry of conflict and wisdom, responded with a grim realism. "He's the Chancellor. Our people knew what they were voting for. He has the guard, he has the guns; we can't get close to him." His words fell like stones, hard and unyielding.

Abby interjected, her voice a beacon of our moral compass, "And that's not how we do things." Her eyes held an unspoken plea for us to remember who we were, despite the chaos.

"Well, maybe we need to change the way we do things," Octavia retorted, her tone edgy, challenging the status quo.

"You two need to go now," Kane whispered, urgency underpinning his hushed tone. He scanned our surroundings, his eyes reflecting the peril of our situation.

"What about Lincoln?" The question burst from her, laced with a blend of fear and hope.

Kane handed her a radio, his movements precise and calculated. "If you want to help him, help him from the outside. The range isn't great. Stay close and wait for my contact." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

"Clarke, go with them," Abby's command was stern yet tinged with maternal concern.

"Are you sure?" Doubt flickered across Clarke's face, mirroring the turmoil swirling within her.

"I'm sure. Keep her safe." Abby's gaze locked with mine, her eyes imploring me to protect what she held most dear. I nodded solemnly, the weight of her trust settling on my shoulders.

Octavia and Clarke disappeared into the hatch, their silhouettes vanishing into the darkness. Their exit was swift, a silent dance of survival.

"Come with me," I whispered to Abby, my voice a mix of hope and resignation.

Her hand tenderly caressed my face, a bittersweet gesture of farewell. "I wish I could," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "May we meet again." Her eyes held mine, conveying a world of unspoken love and fear.

With a heavy heart, I nodded and dashed away. Emerging from the hatch, I sprinted into the dense woods, the underbrush whispering secrets of the night. Ahead, the fleeting shadows of Clarke and Octavia beckoned. Together, we hastened through the forest, the Grounder camp our beacon in the enveloping darkness.