Experiment of Fate ~ A Bellamy Blake story

Chapter 11 - Written in the Stars

The days had bled together, each one dragging Isla deeper into a shell of herself. Locked up with Lincoln in the dim, damp cell, the betrayal gnawed at her soul. Bellamy's face haunted her mind—how could he do this? After everything? And now, back in captivity, the walls felt closer each day, like they were suffocating her. Memories of Mount Weather whispered cruelly in her ear, breaking her down with every breath.

Her eyes were swollen, red and puffy from endless nights of crying. Sleep never came easily now, and when it did, nightmares tore through her dreams. She had lost track of how long they had been trapped—days, maybe weeks. Every second stretched into eternity. The only comfort was Lincoln's steady presence by her side. But even that was a cold comfort, a flickering light in the darkness.

The cell door creaked open, jarring Isla from her thoughts. Her head barely lifted from where it rested on her knees, arms wrapped tightly around herself in a weak attempt at protection. She heard the shuffle of someone being pushed inside, but she didn't care anymore. None of it mattered.

"Isla?"

The voice was familiar, but Isla couldn't bring herself to respond. She didn't need to look up to know who it was.

"Isla, please... just look at me." Bellamy's voice trembled slightly, as if he was pleading with her to see him. But she couldn't. She was too tired. Too broken.

Bellamy's presence hovered there, heavy and painful. But Isla remained curled up, her eyes staring into the void, her heart somewhere far away from this moment. He eventually left, but the hurt stayed behind, gnawing at her like a wound that would never heal.

Another day passed, but it felt like a lifetime. Isla had stopped counting the days since she and Lincoln had been locked up. Just like Mount Weather. Time blurred into one continuous loop of despair, punctuated only by the occasional footfall outside the cell.

The door swung open suddenly, startling Isla. Abby stood there, her eyes wide with urgency. "Run," she whispered, barely above a breath. "You have to run."

Isla and Lincoln exchanged a brief glance, then sprung into action. They helped the sick grounders to their feet, guiding them out of the cell. Alarms blared, the shrill sound echoing through the halls. "All available guards to lock up," the PA system crackled.

They ran, adrenaline coursing through Isla's veins. Every step felt heavier, weighed down by exhaustion and fear, but there was no choice but to keep going. They burst through the corridors until they reached the Rover, where Pike sat, bound and gagged. Isla's eyes narrowed as she stormed toward him, fury burning in her chest.

Without thinking, she punched him square in the face. The force sent Pike's head snapping back, a grunt of pain escaping his lips. Isla smiled sweetly for a moment, a dark satisfaction coursing through her, before her expression hardened into a glare. She turned away, helping the sick grounders into the Rover before sitting down.

The Rover sped through the camp, but their freedom was short-lived. The vehicle jerked to a stop, and within moments, guards swarmed them. Isla and Lincoln were slammed to the ground, handcuffs biting into their wrists. Isla's heart pounded in her ears, but she knew this wasn't the time to go quietly.

With a sharp motion, Isla jerked her head back, cracking it against the nose of the guard holding her. The man stumbled, blood pouring from his face, but before he could react, another guard grabbed Isla, slamming her to the ground with brutal force.

Pain exploded across her face as a fist connected with her cheek, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. Bellamy's voice cut through the chaos. "Stop! Stop it!"

He knelt beside her, his face pale, concern etched into his features. "Isla, are you okay?"

She looked up at him, her lip curling in a bitter, sarcastic smile despite the pain. "Great, thanks for asking." Without warning, she spat blood in his face.