The 99

Chapter Twenty Two: Bellamy

Bellamy was dead.

Or so he thought, the moment he opened his eyes and was greeted by darkness. Maybe the galaxy had swallowed him and he was now suspended in that precarious in-between of life and death. If he was, than he wasn't passing fast enough. Or worse; maybe this was death, a place of perpetual blackness, and that was the thought that truly, truly scared him.

Bellamy was on the brink of panicking when something flickered in his periphery and he looked over. A dozen meters from him lay torn wires, frayed ends sparking with light. Death would have no use for wires and the fear of him actually being dead suddenly drained out of him. No, he was definitely alive, but Bellamy couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing yet. Who was to say how long he'd been out?

Bellamy tried to move, and became conscious of a weight pressing against his abdomen. Gingerly, he moved his hands and feet to make sure nothing was broken before shoving off the debris that had landed on him. His entire body ached like one massive contusion as he sat up.

He coughed. "Clarke?"

Silence.

"Clarke?"

A sound of something being shifted came from his right and Bellamy turned his head towards it just as a small voice said, "here."

He quickly stood up, unconcerned with the momentary dizziness and moved over to her. Clarke was lying in the middle of the corridor, encircled with more debris and...bodies. Not many; two or three, but Bellamy didn't need to look any closer to know they were dead.

Bellamy pulled Clarke out of the rubble and his hands subconsciously roved down her arms. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but feeling that she was here seemed to calm whatever it was inside him. His hands reached her shoulders. "You okay?"

The backup generator kicked in then. It wasn't much but it was enough for him to see her somewhat clearly under a ghostly light. Though grime caked Clarke's face and a thin veil of dirt dusted her hair, like him she was alive, and that made the mess of her state a welcomed sight.

She nodded. "Terrific. You?"

Bellamy smiled, but it fell from him almost instantly, very aware of the dead watching him. "Fine. Not sure how much longer that will last for."

Though she could stand on her own, Clarke didn't move away from him just yet, staying there for a moment longer than necessary until she finally drew back. "We have to find the others," she said, but Bellamy heard the implication. If there's anyone else to find.

"Yeah," he agreed. "It'll be just our luck to be the last living people on a failing ship." The words were cold and they tasted bitter, but Bellamy was entitled to some bitterness. They both were. If he'd thought the Ark was a ticking clock before, now it was a grenade. And every second, the pin came closer and closer to being pulled.

Clarke took a deep breath as she took in their surroundings, pausing on the corpses. "We haven't died yet, Bellamy," she murmured quietly. "And believe me, we've had plenty of opportunities to."

"So either we're meant to be alive, or something just really really wants us dead."

She pursed her lips, finally looking away from the bodies and towards the corridor, squinting to see it more clearly. "I prefer the first one."

"All right then." Bellamy gestured with the tilt of his head at the corridor. "Lets hurry up. We don't know how stable this place is."

As they started walking, Bellamy tried to get some grip of where he was. He knew they were close to the Mess Hall and still on Alpha, but as of where exactly, he was unable to pinpoint. It was strange how foreign the ship had become in the absence of light and people and the symphony of footsteps echoing down the corridors. Now it was just barren, as if the Ark had been turned inside out.