For those of you who haven't read the actual series, I do use some places on the Ark that are only included there. (The tv show is so much better than the books.) I'm sorry if this scene does not coincide exactly with the show. I tried! I even read transcripts...But seriously, how did Bellamy shoot him? Jaha still made a speech, there was no gun sound, so he must've been shot and THEN delivered the speech which is...somewhat hard to believe. Since he almost dies, you know? Anyway, please review because this chapter was so hard. Thanks, All!
The dropship chamber was flooded with people. Dozens and dozens of kids between the ages of twelve to eighteen stood in clusters, packed together alongside a smatter of guards that were stationed nearby, watching them with almost a feral gleam.
Bellamy gripped the gun so tightly, he felt the blood drain from his fingers. Not five meters away stood the dropship, the entrance to it gaping like a giant maw, consuming every delinquent to step inside. He stood back, allowing the bodies in front of him to shield him from view, until he was just a guard, blending in with the background.
His heart hammered in his chest and Bellamy found it difficult to hold on to the gun; he was surprised when it didn't slip through his sweaty hold. Already his insides were revolting against his plan, his conscience whispering from every recess of his mind, steadily rising in volume. But he silenced it with the reminder of his sister, locked away in that metal stomach, with nothing but a flimsy harness to keep her from smashing against the sides as it hurdled through space and to the Earth's surface.
Bellamy cast a glance at the dropship, just in case Octavia wasn't on board yet. A part of him wanted her to catch sight of him so she'd at least know he was here. So that she'd know her brother hadn't forgotten and that he was coming for her. But it could also blow his cover so Bellamy stayed back, not sparing a moment before he was shoving his way through again.
Not enough time, his mind berated him. Not enough time, not enough time.
More people clamored through the door, some going willingly, others having to be forced by a guard or two and Bellamy found himself counting down the minutes, practically shoving people out of the way to get to the other side of the room, where his target was waiting for him. If Bellamy made it onto the drop ship, his first step on Earth would be taken as a murderer.
"If you want to save your sister," Commander Shumway's words echoed in his ears, as if the man were here now, extending the gun to him. "You have to kill Jaha."
Bellamy's breathing grew shallow, until they left his lips in panicked gasps. He moved around the clusters of persons, taking the occasional elbow, but when they raised their eyes to meet his, he caught the spike of fear in them.
Bellamy had been on the other side of that look. He used to be the one looking up, sensing the presence of a gun and imagining a bullet burrowing itself inside him if he didn't do the right thing. A shudder of resentment ran through him, at the thought of becoming the very type of person he had learned to be terrified of. The type of person he'd grown to hate.
Five minutes to launch, a bionic voice hummed from overhead.
Bellamy pushed through the final throng, until his eyes landed on the other door, lining the opposite wall. Behind its wide, transparent window he glimpsed Jaha, approaching from its corridor. No concern weighed in the older man's features. He had no idea of what was coming, and for a second, Bellamy could almost convince himself that it was okay. After all, this was the man who had sentenced hundreds to death. The very person who had condemned his own mother. Who, just last year, had shoved his little sister into a cell just for the crime of being born.
The warning of his conscience dimmed and Bellamy moved swiftly to the door. Not soon enough, he stood before it, access card in hand. The only thing separating him from the Chancellor was a few inches of fiberglass and steel, that disappeared the moment he pressed the access card into the scanner. Then he dropped the card onto the ground, allowing the image of Wyatt Tate to be lost in the current of moving feet behind him.
Fire and run, Bellamy instructed himself as his vision tunneled, darkening at the edges until there was only Jaha in his line of sight. Bellamy stepped forward, waiting, watching. He gripped the gun impossibly tighter, until he was sure the force of it would fracture the bones in his hand. Just fire and aim.
Murderer, his mind suddenly roared back at him, instilled with a new-found ferocity. You will be a murderer.
But even if Bellamy did end up regretting it, there was no alternative he could conjure into existence; there was nothing else that would get him what he wanted and he let that small fact marinate inside him, as he raised the gun with shaky fingers. This was his sister. His responsibility.
He took a breath, just as his eyes locked with Jaha, pools of onyx staring straight into him. Time froze, and an expression of confusion passed over the Chancellor's face, one that quickly morphed into alarm.
Then Bellamy pulled the trigger.
Screams broke out. But Bellamy could barely hear them over the ringing in his ears. He kept his gaze forward, just long enough to see the small stain of red against Jaha's shirt that grew rapidly, turning the fabric a brilliant red. The man's knees buckled and guards swarmed around him, but Bellamy was already running.
Three minutes to launch, the robotic voice chimed.
Bellamy's facade dropped as quickly as Jaha had. He shed the pretense of his uniform and threw himself into the crowd. People stepped back, away from him and the glimmer of fear he'd seen in some of them just seconds ago instantly transformed into terror, eyes asking the silent question if they were next.
"Move!" he shouted at one of them, a scrawny girl who wasn't getting out of his way fast enough. He didn't care; the drop ship door was too close now. Too close for him to allow anyone to risk his chance of making it inside.
"Arrest him!" the command broke out behind him and he heard the few guards charge through the crowd after him. Bellamy shoved harder until he was hurdling through arms and hands and people who couldn't get away, like rodents trapped in rising water.
Two minutes to launch.
Almost there, he mentally screamed when he saw the thick frame of the Exodus ship, just feet away and beckoning him forward. Octavia was just inside and Bellamy could almost hear her surprised gasp as she spotted him, could feel her embrace. Had she grown much over the last year?
A shot fired and instinctively, Bellamy ducked, dropping and maneuvering through the dying havoc as the remaining juveniles rushed the ship. A few even knocked him off course, but he pushed back. He just needed to get a little farther. Just a little farther...
Another shot burst from somewhere and Bellamy felt a force slam into him. A splattering sound that reminded him of spilled paint flooded his ears and he looked down, just enough to see the beads of blood, his blood, decorating the floor in a constellation of red.
49 seconds to launch.
Bellamy pulled himself towards the dropship door, just feet from him, taunting him. But a moment later, the pain finally registered, and fire licked at his shoulder blade, screaming at his every slight movement. He felt sweat collect on his forehead and brows, trickling down the nape of his neck. He felt the world spin uncontrollably and Bellamy dug his nails into the floor, searching for purchase, for something to just hold on to until it stopped.
10 seconds to launch.
Bellamy pulled himself to his feet. He ignored the sudden explosion of black dots that bombarded him, scattering over his vision like stars. He stole a glance behind him, at the approaching guards, coming closer and closer, hands reaching for him, barrels seeking a body to fill with bullets. In a room stuffed with bodies, perhaps he could've made it. But those bodies had loaded onto the Exodus ship, leaving him exposed with a target on his back.
Another gunshot pierced the air and Bellamy dove to the side, just between the wall and the Exodus ship that offered a small cover. His back slammed against it and he hissed at the sharp pain that bit into his shoulder.
Five, the voice counted down.
Panic bubbled up inside him and Bellamy looked back at the door, both too close and yet, still exponentially far. It was morbidly comical at how close he really was. Cruel in every sense of the word and the panic rose until there was nothing else. Maybe's filtered through his head, but Bellamy's mind had already understood what his heart was in denial of, that still recklessly urged him on, forward, to death.
He wouldn't make it.
For one, fleeting second, Bellamy wanted them to shoot. He wanted the fatal bullet, as clearly as it wanted him. That would've been better. To die than to leave Octavia at the mercy of the Earth. Without him. Without anyone.
But that thought faded as quickly as it had come, as something in his peripheral vision caught his eye. Somehow in the pandemonium, the access card had found its way back to him, lying just a few feet away. He looked back at the door.
Already, the dropship door was descending, sealing Bellamy off from his sister. And though he felt it like a physical weight, bearing down in his chest and crushing him from the inside out, he knew the risk would be his life. And he was no help to Octavia dead.
Three.
Bellamy's eyes fell back to the access card, staring up at him just beyond his small cover. He glanced up, at the circadian lights and aimed his own weapon at them. He fired, and they exploded in a shower of sparks, raining to the floor before flickering and going out.
Two.
Bellamy reached for the access card and darted forward, flinching at the rain of bullets that pinged against the dropship, beside the door where they anticipated him to be, as if they expected him to walk straight into them and die reaching for the ship taking his sister far, far away.
But Bellamy wouldn't be. Instead, he was reaching for the other door that would take him back into the belly of the Ark.
He scanned the card and the gunfire shifted over to him, but he had already ducked beneath the rising door, and into the corridor stretching before him. He spared a final glance at the dropship, its entryway now sealed and something stabbed at his heart, worse than the bullet wound.
One.
Bellamy didn't wait. He just disappeared back the way he'd come, vaguely aware of the pain that erupted over his shoulder. Something wet clung to the insides of his sleeve but Bellamy dismissed it, ignoring the blood that had soaked through his shirt and was now dripping down his fingers.