Bellamy's POV
It had been roughly a week since Bellamy spoke to Monty. Despite the constant distraction of building cabins and doing chores, he still found himself looking for signs that the plan had worked. Octavia had given him a nod the other day, but it did nothing to ease his worry. What if it didn't work? What if they would be punished?
The sound of a scream snapped him out of his thoughts. Bellamy bolted from the meat station, ignoring the grounder that was yelling and chasing after him. He stopped dead at the sight of Miller tied to a tree, with a fresh whip mark across his back.
"Stop!" Bellamy yelled.
More of his people had gathered around, seeing what the commotion was about. The village's leader, Roan, turned towards him, face cold.
"You know this is what happens when we are disobeyed. We keep you alive and yet you people keep on fighting against us. Since you aren't getting the message, expect more punishments, and worse ones at that."
As Roan raised the whip yet again, Bellamy automatically moved forward to grab it. Just as he was in reach, he felt two sets of hands roughly grab him from behind. Unphased by Bellamy's pointless attempt, Roan brought the whip down at lightning speed. After Miller let out another scream, Roan slowly approached his limp body and knelt down.
Bellamy relaxed slightly in his restrained position.
"Remember this the next time you think about stealing from us," Roan whispered with a haunting calmness.
To Bellamy's horror, Miller was not being released just yet, he was about to receive one final lash. Bellamy closed his eyes as he heard the whip crack again, refusing to see his friend suffer.
"Get his back treated and then put him back to work straight away," Roan ordered one of the other grounders.
"The rest of you, get back to your stations!"