𝐃𝐔𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘 ── bellamy blake ¹ ✓

[ 14 ] don't move

1.14. | DON'T MOVE

___

WHILE OTHERS ARE putting up landmines, I spend the whole night between four walls of the dropship, sleeping on the floor beside a wounded Myles and thinking about our three lost friends. Thousands of questions float through my mind, clouding every other minor thing that isn't related to their disappearance. What happened? Were they all captured by the Grounders?

I keep brainstorming theories about where they've gone and how to find them until I am too tired to do keep up with my own ideas. I redress Myles' wounds sorrowfully, wincing once I see the swelling and the discoloration worsen. It's infected, but we don't have any antibiotics. He will likely die soon and I can't even do anything about it as he moans in half-conscious agony, tossing and turning when I clean off the pus and blood. I'm not Clarke, I can't put an end to his misery, so, when I secure some of our last bandages over the arrow wounds, I feel bile rise up in my throat, so I exit the ship to get some oxygen.

As I heave over some ditch, a gunshot is fired and disturbs the peaceful evening. Unluckily enough, I am just by the gates, so I don't have to head that far to see what exactly is going on. When I burst out of the camp, I come face to face with a group of my friends staring at some boy in one of the guard posts, fumbling to secure his rifle back into his steady hands while Bellamy runs toward him, "Hey, what the hell is the matter with you?"

I slowly step forward, noticing the distressed look on the delinquent's face as he utters an apology, "I'm sorry, man, I fell asleep, I've been on watch all day."

When I see the look in Bellamy's eyes, I immediately march toward them, not taking my eyes off of the older man that shoves the teenager into a tree, yelling right in his face, "We've all been on watch all day! That bullet was one less dead Grounder!"

Thankfully, Octavia decides to cut in, while I stop a couple of feet behind Bellamy, "Bell, you're scaring people."

Her brother still doesn't step away from the boy he lunged at, merely turning his head to acknowledge his sister, "They should be scared!" Then, he finally releases him, stepping back to address the people that have gathered around, stopping for a second when he notices me standing almost next to him.

After a moment of stunned silence, he speaks again, "The bomb on the bridge bought us some time to prepare, but that time is up! The Grounders are out there right now, waiting for us to leave and picking us off one by one when we do! Clarke, Finn and Monty are gone, probably dead, and if you want to be next, I can't stop you, but no guns are leaving this camp! This camp is the only thing keeping us alive. Get back to work!"

It's as if his words materialize and deliver a harsh punch to stomach, cutting off all the oxygen. I swallow hard, my eyes trailing after his retreating figure. Clarke, Finn and Monty are gone, probably dead. What if he is right? It's either death or ripped off fingernails and a hemorrhagic fever, and right now, I can't even decide what would be the better outcome for both our missing friends and the rest of the camp.