The 99

Chapter Four: Bellamy

The dropship chamber was flooded with people. Dozens and dozens of kids between the ages of twelve to eighteen stood in clusters, packed together alongside a smatter of guards that were stationed nearby, watching them with an almost feral gleam.

Bellamy gripped the gun so tightly, he felt the blood drain from his fingers. Not five meters away stood the dropship, the entrance to it gaping like a giant maw, consuming every delinquent to step inside. He stood back, allowing the bodies in front of him to shield him from view, until he was just a guard, blending in with the background.

His heart hammered in his chest and Bellamy found it difficult to hold on to the gun; he was surprised when it didn't slip through his sweaty hold. Already his insides were revolting against his plan, his conscience whispering from every recess of his mind, steadily rising in volume. But he silenced it with the reminder of his sister, locked away in that metal stomach, with nothing but a flimsy harness to keep her from smashing against the sides as it hurdled through space and to the Earth's surface.

Bellamy cast a glance at the dropship, just in case Octavia wasn't on board yet. A part of him wanted her to catch sight of him so she'd at least know he was here. So that she'd know her brother hadn't forgotten and that he was coming for her. But it could also blow his cover so Bellamy stayed back, not sparing a moment before he was shoving his way through again.

Not enough time, his mind berated him. Not enough time, not enough time.

More people clamored through the door, some going willingly, others having to be forced by a guard or two and Bellamy found himself counting down the minutes, practically shoving people out of the way to get to the other side of the room, where his target was waiting for him. If Bellamy made it onto the drop ship, his first step on Earth would be taken as a murderer.

"If you want to save your sister," Commander Shumway's words echoed in his ears, as if the man were here now, extending the gun to him. "You have to kill Jaha."

Bellamy's breathing grew shallow, until they left his lips in panicked gasps. He moved around the clusters of persons, taking the occasional elbow, but when they raised their eyes to meet his, he caught the spike of fear in them.

Bellamy had been on the other side of that look. He used to be the one looking up, sensing the presence of a gun and imagining a bullet burrowing itself inside him if he didn't do the right thing. A shudder of resentment ran through him, at the thought of becoming the very type of person he had learned to be terrified of. The type of person he'd grown to hate.

"Five minutes to launch," a bionic voice hummed from overhead.

Bellamy pushed through the final throng, until his eyes landed on the other door, lining the opposite wall. Behind its wide, transparent window he glimpsed Jaha, approaching from its corridor. No concern weighed in the older man's features. He had no idea of what was coming, and for a second, Bellamy could almost convince himself that it was okay. After all, this was the man who had sentenced hundreds to death. The very person who had condemned his own mother. Who, just last year, had shoved his little sister into a cell just for the crime of being born.

The warning of his conscience dimmed and Bellamy moved swiftly to the door. Not soon enough, he stood before it, access card in hand. The only thing separating him from the Chancellor was a few inches of fiberglass and steel, that disappeared the moment he pressed the access card into the scanner. Then he dropped the card onto the ground, allowing the image of Wyatt Tate to be lost in the current of moving feet behind him.

Fire and run, Bellamy instructed himself as his vision tunneled, darkening at the edges until there was only Jaha in his line of sight. Bellamy stepped forward, waiting, watching. He gripped the gun impossibly tighter, until he was sure the force of it would fracture the bones in his hand. Just fire and aim.