The crunch of each step echoed in Bellamy's ears. He was supposed to be hunting, but he didn't care really. It was just his excuse to get away for a while. The heaviness of his guilt bore down on him, and he felt the stares of people that pretended not to see him. He caught himself staring at the ground more than looking straight ahead, avoiding everyone, until he needed some space. The problem was, even alone in the forest, he was surrounded by the ghosts of those he slaughtered. He would never have peace, and he resigned himself to the fact that he didn't deserve it. He just had to hunt every few weeks to keep his sanity. Clarke and the others knew he just used it as an excuse. They never questioned it or begged to go along, knowing that he needed solitude.
He just walked along, stopping to make camp. He was usually away three or four days. When he returned, sometimes it was empty handed, no one asked.
This time his direction was more familiar. It was near sector seven. He didn't plan it, it just happened.
Birds took off ahead, he noticed a rustling in the bushes before he saw her running and terrified. He recognized Niylah immediately. Following her was a large brown bear. His eyes grew wide, its size was enormous. Bellamy immediately ran in the direction to cut the bear off and give Niylah a chance to escape. He aimed his gun and fired several shots, the bear just roared, the shots did nothing.
"Run," screamed Bellamy to Niylah.
The bear turned and ran towards him, Bellamy kept shooting. The bear didn't stop. He had just enough time to grab his ax and try and strike it on the skull, but the beast swung its claws, slapping the ax from his grip. It was on top of Bellamy in an instant. The bear bit down on his shoulder. Bellamy screamed in pain as he felt his warm blood mix with the saliva from the giant bear. He swung and hit the bear in the eye with his right hand. The bear reared back letting go of his shoulder. Bellamy tried to turn over and crawl away from him, but the bear sliced his claws across Bellamy's side and back flipping his body back over. He reached down to his hip and felt his knife. Just as the bear bit down again on his shoulder, Bellamy jabbed his knife over and over into the head of the bear. At first he thought that nothing he was doing would work. Bellamy was getting light headed, knowing he was about to pass out, until suddenly the bear dropped like lead, pinning Bellamy beneath the weight of the monster. As darkness closed in around him, Bellamy thought how fitting it was for him to die alone.
Niylah kept running. She saw Bellamy shoot at it and she heard him yell for her to run. Then she heard him scream in pain. She knew the bear had got him. She wondered why he had done it. Why did he try to save her? She knew the answer. She saw the guilt he bore when she learned the truth about the massacre. The thought that he saved her from the bear made her angry. It didn't release him from any guilt in her eyes. His saving one person, after he killed hundreds was nothing. Still she needed to go back. She had to find out what happened. Was the bear feasting on his body? She stopped and listened. Niylah didn't hear anything. No groans or crunching bones. The snorts and sounds of a wild animal when it eats its prey were not heard. Slowly she made her way and from a safe distance she saw the large back of the bear. It was still and just lying there. Red blood stained the head. Niylah knew Bellamy had killed it. She slowly walked towards it looking for him, she knew by his scream he had to be hurt even slightly. Finally she saw him, or at least a part of him. He was pinned under the bear. She thought he might be dead; his face was covered in blood. Unsure she slowly moved forward still wary of the bear, then she saw the knife sticking from its skull. She was sure it was dead, and she checked Bellamy. He was breathing slightly. Niylah shoved at the bear, it wouldn't move, she was strong but not strong enough to move it alone. Niylah ran as fast as she could. Her camp was a mile south, and she needed her horse. As she ran, she wondered if Bellamy would still be breathing when she returned. She didn't think about him killing her father, nor the other hundreds on that field, she pushed that from her mind. He was Clarke's friend, and he was a person, that's all that mattered.
She got to camp quickly and grabbed her horse and some rope a blanket and some cloth. She rode hard back. Niylah tied the rope to the legs of the bear and used her horse to pull the bear from Bellamy.
She knelt down beside him and felt his pulse, it was slow, but he was alive but very pale. She looked at his injuries. She saw where the bear had viciously bitted and tore at his shoulder. Niylah wrapped it tightly to try and stop the bleeding. She noticed the slash marks on his arm, and saw the odd angle his arm was in. Deciding it was broken, she wrapped it temporarily, knowing she would have to set it later. Finally she rolled him over and saw his ripped jacket. She cut it away and exposed the ugly gashes across his side and back. He was bleeding heavily and she used the rest of her cloth to wrap his back and sides.
Niylah split the bear down the middle. Working fast she tore out its guts. She tied each back leg to a tree branch she did the same to the front legs. She tied the two back legs to the horse with the rope and pulled Bellamy onto the bears open carcass. The bear's body that almost killed him would drag him back to the trading post.
It was a slow and rough ride, but Bellamy didn't wake. There were moments when Niylah wanted to check and see if he were still alive, but she didn't stop, she kept going. Finally she hit a bump and he moaned in pain. That told her he was alive. When she got to the trading post, she got him into her barn. She rolled him off the bear's carcass, and dragged his body to the corner away from the animals. His dead weight was heavy and she knew she couldn't carry him into her room.
Once he was inside the barn, Niylah began undressing him. He was covered in blood, some his, some the bears. She knew infection would set in if she didn't clean his wounds. She had already cut off his jacket, she removed what was left of his tee shirt, it was in pieces. Finally she took off his boots, and pants. She bathed his body with warm soapy water, noticing the muscular build he had. She had to admit Bellamy was a handsome man, but she also knew he was a troubled man. After he was cleaned up, she scooted him onto a dry blanket she had laid out on a straw bed.
Niylah cleaned the gashes on his sides and back, he groaned in pain as she closed his wounds with stitches. She wrapped him with clean gauge and rags. She gave him some tea, making him drink it when he was beginning to wake up. It kept him sleeping and still so she could keep working on patching him up. His shoulder was bad and she rinsed it out several times with extra hot water, she wanted to wash out any dirt, or saliva from the bear that may cause infection. She covered it with a poltus, and packed it and wrapped it. Finally she set his arm, the tea he drank, didn't stop him from feeling the pain of her trying to fit the bones of his arm back together. He moaned from the pain, but finally quieted when she braced it and finished cleaning and stitching the gashes left from the claw that broke it.
Bellamy had visions that clouded his mind, was he dreaming or was he dead? He wasn't sure. He would start to wake to agonizing pain, then someone forced a liquid in his mouth, and everything went dark again. It seemed to happen over and over. He let it, because when he started to wake, he hurt all over. Sleeping didn't hurt. For the first time in months he slept without seeing the faces of a dying army, of children being burned from radiation, of faceless Arkers, their bodies falling from space, of Monroe gasping for air, of Lincoln staring at him through cell bars. The nightmares that always haunted him were gone for now. Instead, it was blackness. Maybe this was death, if it was, then he welcomed it.