I Loved Him**Bellamy Blake [2] (Completed)

The 48

Sam's POV

White. The only color that was in my room besides the colors of a painting that hung on the wall.

I wore a white tang-top with white shorts and no shoes. The cold ground against my feet startled me but I didn't let it show. The camera by the door was always watching me.

The bullet wound on my leg was all healed. I have no idea how long I've been out but it must have been long enough for them to fix my leg.

Soon enough, once I got tired of waiting, a person in a hazmat suit came in with two guards. It was like I was back on the Ark. the guards roughly grabbed my arms and dragged me into a room.

I looked around and saw Clark handcuffed to a bed. Her arm was stitched up and her white clothes had blood on them.

The door behind us beeped and someone came in. I didn't recognize him but he looked important. He was old and wore a nice suit. A woman also came in with him. She looked like a doctor but by the looks of it Clark didn't recognize her.

"Hello Clark." The woman's voice was clear and loud. "How's your arm?" Clark stayed silent only moving to look at me then back at them. "Not much of a talker, is she?"

"A skill picked up from the savages, no doubt." The older man spoke. Savages? Did he mean the grounders? "Maya has something to say first anyway."

The girl who stood next to the man only looked like a teenager. She was nervous and in a patient gown. "You were the next one to be cleared through quarantine. Another 10 minutes and you would have..."

"Ahem."

Maya composed herself. "I'm not pressing charges."

"Thank you Maya. You can get your treatment now." The older man turned to the guards. "Restraints aren't necessary."

"Yes, Mr. President." They both responded before releasing her.

Clark jumped off the bed and pulled me into a hug. "Are you okay?"

I wrapped my arms around her. "No."

We pulled away and she gentle rubbed my arm before turning back to the old man.

"Dante Wallace." He stuck his hand out but I was covered in black. Clark shook his hand and lifted it up to see it. "Oil Paint. That's right. You're an artist too." He motioned to Clark. "And you're a nightblood." He motioned back to me.

"Who told you that?" Clark asked not very nicely.

"You're people did. They also said that you two were their leaders. Looks like we have a lot in common, kiddos."

"Where's my watch?"

"I'm sorry, but we can't let contaminated items inside Mount Weather. We couldn't risk it. Our protocol is very strict. We prioritize safety over sentimentality."

"How many of us did you capture?" I was the one asking questions now.

"Forty-eight, including you two. But Sam, you've got it all wrong. You're not prisoners. We saved you."

"Well in that case, you won't mind if we leave. If there are 48 of us here, we still have people out there."

"The patrol brought in who they could find."