THE FREE FALL ⇘ Bellamy Blake. [1]

| xi. REPERCUSSIONS

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CHAPTER ELEVEN;

REPERCUSSIONS.

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"BRING OUT THE GIRL, BELLAMY!"

The thunderous rage beneath Murphy's demand seemed to shake the air of camp itself. Haven tensed, shuddering involuntarily from the impact. Her ears were ringing. Her shoulder was practically dead weight. Any semblance of sanity was long gone–abandoned the very moment that Murphy was hung from the tree. Adrenaline was all that sustained her now; without it, she had nothing.

Following Charlotte's admission of killing Wells, Haven had been the first to move to his aid; a sign that hell certainly must've frozen over. Exploiting the aftershocks, she deftly navigated through Connor's cronies, utilizing the keen edge of her blade to sever Murphy's noose. It was ironic, in a way. The very weapon that had once been used to threaten him now served as his saving grace.

Until he regained consciousness.

        Now, he was back on the warpath.

        Tension hung thick within the confines of Bellamy's tent. Like the acid fog all over again–except instead of lethal radiation, there was a cloud of sinister ambivalence. Haven, Bellamy, Clarke, and Finn gathered there once more–all huddled frantically around Charlotte. The young girl stood trembling between Bellamy and Finn, while Haven and Clarke leaned as far away as possible.

        "Why, Charlotte?"

Bellamy's face was stained in disbelief, an all consuming need to understand Charlotte's motives festered in the crease between his brows. As if some reasonable explanation would magically materialize and suffice for a twelve year old committing actual murder. Yet, Haven noticed an unusual lack of anger in his expression; rather, panic seized him, betraying itself in the way his hands clutched at each other, fingers intertwining in a subconscious search for answers.

        No one else looked close enough to notice.

        "I was just trying to slay my demons!" Charlotte exclaimed, staring into Bellamy's eyes as though seeking salvation within their depths. "Like you told me!"

        Shit.

        Haven stiffened. All color drained from her face as a harrowing realization settled within her belly. Her recollection of their time in the cave surfaced in a flood, and suddenly everything made sense – the signs, the unshakable feeling of unease. She knew her instincts had been right to warn her about Charlotte carrying a knife. She knew she had been right upon witnessing the ominous look on her face. She knew, she knew, she knew–and yet, did nothing to stop it.