Chapter One

Bellamy cursed to himself as he climbed up the steep rocky mountain edge. His face was swollen and badly bruised and hurt much more than he had led Finn to believe.

Finn, who was climbing about ten feet behind Bellamy, had an ugly burn along his right side, starting at his forearm and worsening as it wormed its way up to the right side of his neck. Bellamy knew Finn was the reason he was even still alive, after that horrific grounder battle that had taken place at their camp site.

Bellamy had been receiving a deadly beating at the hands of a very large Grounder when Finn had come to his aid. Finn had distracted the grounder, giving Bellamy ample time to punch him hard and knock him back, before he and Finn barely limped away as the fiery inferno their friends had unleashed engulfed the enemy.

Finn had received his burn just as they were exiting the reach of the blaze and Bellamy had heard the sizzle of his skin as they threw themselves into some nearby brush. It was the last thing he remembered before he blacked out.

When he had awoken, Finn was lying next to him still, though unconscious; the visible scorch marks along his side still fresh.

Bellamy's head felt fuzzy and disoriented. Last he had remembered it was night and here now it was daylight. He gingerly put his fingertips to the throbbing areas of his face and hissed and grimaced as the pain intensified when he did. He placed his hands on the ground to rise and almost fell back down immediately due to dizziness and nausea.

"Finn," he said, attempting to rouse the motionless boy next to him. "Wake up, Finn."

Finn made no movement and Bellamy feared the worst. He dragged himself closer to the boy and put his fingers on his next, hesitant. His pulse was steady and Bellamy took a moment to look closer at the burn along his side, feeling pity and remorse remembering that Finn had helped him and had thus received such a nasty looking wound.

He sighed and attempted to stand again, much slower this time and the wave of nausea that hit him was much less intense. He put his hand on a nearby tree for support and squinted in the filtering sunlight through the leaves, surveying the area. He could see their ship of course but heard nothing, save the sounds of morning time on Earth from critters, birds, and the like.

He took another look at Finn and decided he could leave him for a moment to go see what had happened to everyone else.

He walked slowly with an unintended limp that he couldn't quite help. He wanted to call out for the others but something told him he'd better not. He reached the main camp site where he had been fighting with that Grounder and he was greeted with the vision of a mass grave. Dozens of skeletal remains, still smoking and littered with ash, flooded what had once been their camp.

He looked at them, elated that their plan had worked and yet panicked that the bodies were unidentifiable, hoping they belonged to no one he knew.

He looked around, remembering the last time he saw his friends. The drop ship had still been open and he knew most of them were inside waiting for the doors to close. Clarke had screamed out his name above the din, over and over again, but he couldn't look at her. The Grounder was too strong and he knew he would never make it to the ship. Looking at Clarke's face would have only made things worse and on the off chance he somehow conquered the Grounder, he needed all his concentration on escape from the flames.

The memories flooded back to him and he recalled his departure from his sister, Octavia. She had been badly injured and the lone friendly Grounder, Lincoln, had promised to take her to safety. How could he say no to that when they were probably all going to die here? If there was any chance that Lincoln could save her, he had to let him take it.

The drop ship was open now he noticed but from what he could tell, this place was empty; a true graveyard. He heard a weak cough from somewhere nearby and he whirled around in surprise, though he immediately regretted it. Nausea hit him so hard he would have thrown up on the spot had he had anything to eat in the last day or so. He closed his eyes and waited for it to stop; slowly inching his way over to the sound he'd heard. Had Finn awoken and made his way over? The cough sounded almost feminine he had thought.

There. He saw a body, moving slightly, half hidden under some debris. He reached his hand out slowly and coaxed the body over so he could see their face.

It was Anya, the leader of the Grounders who had tried to kill them. She was semi-conscious and babbling whispers that he could not make out. He felt a surge of anger upon seeing her face and with the uncertainty of where his friends were; he grabbed her clothes and put his face close to hers growling, "Where the hell are my friends you crazy bitch?"

She was not completely alert and still babbling words he didn't understand. One phrase he could make out, though it was one he had never heard before, filled him with a sense of unsettlement.

"Mountain Men."

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