Warrior ‣ Bellamy Blake

Seventy-One

BOLD = Trigedasleng

***

Archer Kane could only watch and listen in horror as the sight of too much blood and the pained wails he was forced to hear throughout the day continued after the sun had set. For the longest time, he never considered himself neither Grounder nor Skaikru since his only affiliation with either was his mother, but to hear his people dying was intolerable. For a fleeting moment when he stepped back onto Earth for the first time in six years, he hoped the cycle of death would break, but that notion was impossible and he finally understood it.

It never ended, did it?

War was among them every day and they were not the first to come into conflict. War had been around since the concept of conflict was first discovered. Cain killed Abel and set the world on a dark path of self-destruction. It made Archer wonder if war, death, and destruction were just human nature. It would make sense, then, why the cycle never broke. It was just built into them.

Torches illuminated the people around them, most of them clutching wounds or their deceased loved ones, refusing to let them go. Archer tried to avoid looking, knowing he would see many things that would burn onto the backs of his eyelids, but it was impossible to evade what war truly looked like.

Jackson was frantically attending to anyone in need that was still clinging onto life meanwhile Monty and Harper, the two that somehow managed to find light in the fact that they were doomed, were handling the bodies. Archer learned that Monty and Harper were innocent. They had done atrocious things, but they still managed to put their humanity before survival, something even he was struggling with. To see Monty's normally bright or, at least, neutral face turn dark and solemn was one of those things that he would never unsee.

Archer's medical training was minimal at best, but he tried to help. He learned off of Jackson. Though his suture skills were subpar and would undoubtedly leave disgusting jagged scars, he was one of the few that could help. Everyone else was either in the gorge, dead, or both.

Miller was scoping out what people they had left and his eyes became glassy. Sure, Archer didn't know Miller half as well as Aella did, but Blodreina's soldier hardened by hardship was now understanding how doomed they all were and he was openly wearing his vulnerability. He was scared.

Miller approached Jackson and the group congregated around them, Monty wiping the blood off his hands from the bodies he and Harper piled on as he stated, "We can't stay here."

Archer tried to focus on Monty's words, but the agonizing sounds of the wounded screaming in pain until their throats burned distracted him enough.

"We need medical supplies," Monty continued, looking around at the wounded who were most likely not going to see tomorrow. "There's no food. There's no water. And the rain isn't drinkable from the ash. It's time to surrender."

"The people who tried to surrender were slaughtered in the gorge," Miller reminded. "The enemy, they don't want prisoners. They want us dead."

"That's what they're gonna get if we don't do something," Harper urged. "We have to fight. The longer we wait, the harder it's gonna be."

"Nobody's gonna follow me back into that gorge!" he exclaimed through gritted teeth.

"Then we're already dead," said Monty.

The sound of a rover's engine alerted them all to a new presence in their camp. Miller ordered gunners to surround it and to only shoot on his command. He worried that it could be the enemy here to wipe the rest of them out, but was more than relieved when his friends stepped out.