Authors note: I'm so sorry this took so long to update. It was just really hard to write. Really really hard. I have the final chapters already written so the next update should not be as long.
One again thank you to everyone who is readying. The writing lark is much harder than I thought it would be.
Chapter 13 Bellamy ATM
At first light the air was cold and crisp as Bellamy roused everyone from their sleep. He'd already been in touch with base camp and established that Clarke had not returned to Camp Jaha, and unsurprisingly was also not in the Mountain. Chancellor Abby had just finished an emergency surgery when she spoke to him. Her voice was tired and scared when she asked him to find her daughter. Bellamy reassured her best he could that Clarke would be okay and she knew these woods well. But the truth was he didn't feel so confident.
Mr Monty had spoken to his son while they ate breakfast. Both were anxious to be reunited, and not least because Monty had found the in-house laboratory to be very well stocked. Not just with equipment but also with tomes of textbooks and hard copies of research papers which contained knowledge that had been lost to the people of the Ark. All stored on something called a microfiche, apparently an invention of the 19th century of all things. Both men were very excited to begin working together. Mr Monty beamed with pride when he spoke of his son. It transpired that although Jasper had been the chemical genius and Monty the engineer in their little side-line, Monty was at home in a wet lab as computer lab. Bellamy was left with a niggling suspicion that maybe Monty's had not been the first generation in the "family business", simply the first to get caught. When he cautiously suggested as much the older man had wrinkled his expression into one of aghast, and then winked at him and laughed. It was good to hear laughter.
After breakfast they made a stretcher for Ben by strapping the material of one of the tents over some sawn-off redwood branches. Ben was slid into the a pocket made of the material. It wasn't especially warm but it did keep the wind out. They padded the pocket with anything insulating they could find. They'd initially planned to carry it between them, but it soon became obvious that combined with walking in the snow, that would be too strenuous, and in anycase it dragged along the ground very smoothly, with only minor modifications.
The sun was still low in the sky as they headed out. Bill and Bellamy each pulling an arm of the stretcher as Mr Monty led the way guided by his compass. That was all they had to go on now. The snow had completely transformed the forest into a new and alien landscape. It could have been another world. The branches of the trees bowed under the weight of the snow. The trunks themselves jutting out of dimples in the ground. Based on them Bill estimated that over four feet of snow had fallen. Bellamy was dubious. When they'd learnt about snow their teachers had spoken of inches of snow falling, not feet. But Bill was adamant that Bellamy simply wasn't looking hard enough and that he still needed to learn how to see. Bellamy laughed to hear Lincoln's words fall from Bill's mouth as if they were his own. Maybe his sister wasn't the only one going Grounder. Instinctively he looked round for her, then stopped and continued on, heart heavy a deep ache in his chest.
They didn't make as much progress as he'd hoped. Their feet sank into the snow knee deep sometimes deeper. Stopping for lunch after a few hours had meant a cold meal and brief rest sitting atop the remaining tent. They hadn't found any better shelter. Bellamy knew there should be a stream nearby that would eventually wind down into the ravine, but it was hidden by the snow. When they did their radio check-in Sinclair advised them not to head for the Mountain base. He said the ground was unstable and that they'd already lost some people in snow slides. They should keep heading to the lower ground and Camp Jaha. The snow there was apparently not as deep because the storm had fallen as rain for a bit before it turned to snow. There were already reports that it was beginning to melt.
They reconfigured the roping on the stretcher so that they could pull it in single file. This allowed them to step in each other's prints, which was easy on those who followed. The sky remained clear and as they walked small clumps of snow would occasionally drop from nearby branches. But apart from that the landscape was eerily quiet. The sun was low in the horizon as they reached the River. It was somewhere near here that Jasper had been speared by the grounders. The first time they had learned that they were not alone on the earth. It was only a few months, but it felt like a lifetime, several lifetimes.
It was frustrating to be so close to camp but they knew they wouldn't make it before dark. Bellamy briefly thought about making for the cover of the Dropship, but even that would be pushing it. In the end they set up camp next to the River. Bill impressed everyone by finding dry wood for the fire. He climbed down into a tree dimple and and pulled dead branches and twigs from the tree close to the trunk. Dinner was at least hot, if not particularly tasty, emergency rations from the Mountain, and they had tea to drink. Ben had slept most of the day but the swelling on the side of his head was going down and he sat with them finally enjoying the snow from the warmth and comfort of a camp fire.
When they contacted the camps they learned that Indra's army had retreated but that she and a small "delegation" from the commander had remained at Camp Jaha. She had indicated that this much snow so early was very unusual but was keeping her own counsel on what she thought it meant for the oncoming winter.
Monty was working down in the labs with Harper and had simply relayed a message that he'd speak to his dad tomorrow as he couldn't stop what he was doing right then but that there was nothing new to report.
Bill and Abby discussed Ben's condition briefly, but overall she felt that because he had stopped getting worse and was showing signs of improvement that his was a positive sign, but that he should continue to be stretchered back to camp. Ben objected to this strongly but quieted when Bill gave him a stern look that said there would be no nonsense.
As night settled Bellamy and Mr Monty sat outside the single tent that the Bob's were sleeping in watching a large moon rise above the trees. The faintest wisps of clouds obscuring it. It was still weird to look at the moon through the haze of the atmosphere. He decided he liked it. Despite the harsh weather they'd just been through he appreciated the protective layer surrounding him in a way he didn't think people who hadn't spent their whole lives surrounded by the harsh vacuum of space would understand.
He looked up towards the Mountain where baby Maya was hopefully sleeping and realized for the first time that his might well be the last generation of humans to visit space for hundreds of years. He breathed in the cold mountain air, not as harsh on his lungs as before, the smell of pine needles filling his nostrils. This is what home smelled like. That, and the musky smell of skin in the nape of a neck, and the mass of brown hair and big brown eyes smiling up at him adoringly. His heart ached, he didn't think he'd ever feel whole again.
Bellamy turned at the ripping sound behind him, he expected to see one of the Bobs emerging from the tent. The shock of the unexpected delayed his reaction long enough for the shadowy figure to throw a lit torch into the tent. The camp erupted into flames and chaos. Bellamy stepped back instinctively as the shadowy figure lunged for him out of the dark.
"Where is she?' It snarled as it pushed him off the bank and into the fast flowing river. "Where is that bitch?"
Bellamy shrieked as the icy water assaulted his warm skin. Soaking instantly through his clothes. Then a weight crashed into his chest, submerging him further into the fast flowing river. He floundered arms flailing wildly behind him as he tried to keep his head out of the water. But even as his mouth and nose broke the surface and he instinctively gasped for air a rough hand pushed his head back under.
Then he was flipped onto his stomach as he tried to pull the hand out of his hair. His face barely broke the surface.
"Where is Clarke?" The rough voice demanded again. Before dunking Bellamy back under the water.
Adrenaline running through Bellamy's veins was all that gave him the strength to plant his feet into the River bed and throw his attacker off his back, bloody hair still grasped in his hands.
Bellamy turned angry, eyes blazing ready to kill the Grounder. His eyes opened wide in shock. He recognized that uniform, that face, Emerson.
Emerson's fist connected with Bellamy's jaw throwing his head back and taking his body with it into the water.
When Bellamy surfaced there was gunfire and yelling in the air. A bullet whizzed past his face hitting Emerson Squarely in the shoulder. He spun and landed feet up in the water. Bellamy watched as the strong current took him away into the night and out of sight. Bellamy didn't think they'd seen the last of him. Some people refused to die. He should know, he was one of them.
He waded back to shore and Bill pulled him up onto the bank. The camp was completely destroyed. All they had left was the fire. Monty was applying some snow to burns on Ben's arm and face. When they turned to look at Bellamy, he could see that Ben had lost an eye to the flames.
"We need to move now!" He barked at his friends. Rattled by the encounter and filled with the need to be doing something.
But Mr Monty shook his head as he got up and walked towards him. His face serious and determined. "No Bellamy, you'll freeze to death within an hour. You stay by the fire and we move at first light, when you are dry.
It was only then that Bellamy realized how violently he was shivering. The adrenaline leaving his system he could once again feel the bite of the wet cold on his skin. He nodded and headed to the fire.
They spent the rest of the night each sat with their backs to the fire, surrounding it, keeping watch. Eventually the moon disappeared behind cloud and the night actually began to feel warmer. Then just at dawn it began to snow. Out of any other options they strapped Ben back into the stretcher. They way he quivered as they secured him was the only indication of his pain, but everyone knew from looking at his burns.
Bellamy was reminded of another time, another friend covered in burns. Then he hadn't been strong enough to offer Atom mercy, Clarke had done that. It was the first time he'd begun to realise who she really was, not the spoiled stuck up princess he had wanted her to be. As he looked at Ben a truth settled on him. He still wouldn't be able to offer Ben mercy if it came to it. He didn't have the courage it took to kill a friend.
Bill took the first turn at the front, insisting that he had at least got some sleep last night. Bellamy followed in his footsteps with Mr Monty next and Ben following in the stretcher them behind. He seemed to have passed quickly into unconsciousness for which Bellamy was grateful.
At first the snow fell softly and Bellamy thought they were going to be okay. A few hours more walking and they'd be warm and dry. But steadily the clouds above got darker and the snow began to fall so heavily that it was hard to see far into the distance. Bellamy was glad he knew this part of the forest fairly well, he'd hunted here a few times, animals were easy to pick off when they came to drink. He could follow the river until the banks began to slope up, this would take them to the Ravine, and the bunker was very close by.
The wind began to pick up about midmorning, Bellamy knew they were close to the bunker, but he was getting tired and would have stopped to rest, except there was no shelter until they reached the bunker, so they had to press on. They switched positions on the rope with Bill slipping in behind Mr Monty so he could keep an eye on Ben. Then the snow began to mix with sleet drenching their uniforms and the wind whipped everything into a white-out Frenzy, Talking became impossible as the force of the wind kidnapped every sound carrying it off to somewhere ahead of them.
Bellamy pressed on, one footstep at a time, but time itself began to lose all meaning and Bellamy became sure that they were hopelessly lost and walking in circles. At times he could barely see his own hand held up in front of him. The sleet had soaked through his clothes and his skin burned from the cold.
Blind and deaf Bellamy dragged himself through the howling snowstorm. Every fibre of his being begged him to stop and rest but he knew he could not. To stop would be to die. His leg sunk knee deep into the biting cold and for a moment he lost his balance and clung to the branch of a bowed over tree. The blood rushed through his ears as his heart pounded. He had to get up.
Behind him the rope went slack as Mr Monty caught up to him. The older man leaned in and helped the younger rise. Bellamy clung to the tree a moment longer to steady himself, definitely not resting, as his head drooped wearily. He was roused by Mr Monty pounding his shoulder and pointing into the distance excitedly, but whatever it was Bellamy couldn't see it.
A sharp tug on the rope and the shock on Mr Monty's face were all the warning he had. Instinct made him cling to the tree just as the rope threatened to drag him after whatever disaster had violently yanked Monty's dad away. The ground beneath him shuddered.
Bellamy searched the wind vainly but the cries he could hear were so faint they could be just his imagination. He tried to move forward so that he could get enough slack to secure the rope around a branch and go back to investigate but it was too heavy. Behind him three men were in danger and he was helpless even to save himself, except to cling for dear life onto a tree with increasingly numb arms.
Then for a moment the air was still and Bellamy could see down. He was standing on the edge of the ravine. Dangling beneath him were his friends. He could see the fear in all their eyes and the pleading that he not let go. Bellamy heaved again, He only needed to move a little and Monty's dad might be able to find a foothold. He was laying against the cliff at least, while the two Bob's dangled free and helpless. He tried, every sinew in his body crying out to move, but his feet slipped closer to the edge. Beneath him Monty's dad looked up and started making a motion with his hand that he didn't understand, until he did and then he felt sick to his stomach. Cut us loose he was saying. Below he could see Ben trying to climb out of the stretcher, but he was tangled in the rope.
Then the snow was back blinding him and Bellamy was alone with the howling wind and the pain in his arms. His feet and hands slipped again. He crooked his elbow around a branch slipping further back as he did and numbly reached into his boot, could he do this, kill Monty's dad and the Bobs. He could just let go, fall with them into the chasm below, maybe if there was enough snow at the bottom they'd all be okay. Yes just let go a voice whispered in his head. He held the knife against the taut rope, it began to fray against the sharp edge. Everything hurt. If he cut the rope he would be alone in the storm, he'd just be delaying the inevitable. Perhaps the only choice left was how he died.
The rope had frayed to it's last strand when the air cleared again. He glimpsed Monty's dad now swinging free, knife in hand sawing against the rope. Then the tension was released and rough bark of the tree slammed into his face and chest, knocking the air from his lungs. The remaining rope coiled loosely at his feet. The moment of shock passed quickly and then his anger and angst filled the air. He screamed until his lungs ran out of air and then filled them and screamed again. He pushed himself away from the tree towards safety but fell to his hands and knees in the snow. Get up, he screamed to himself, up. But he was too weak, so he crawled. He knew he was going to die, but not here, not where everyone would know what he had done to his friends.
He had to get away, from himself. His hair flew from his face as his slid down a bank into a deep drift of snow. It covered him head to toe his lungs screamed at him and he realized with mounting panic that he was going to suffocate. Not like this, not like this he thought as dark spots danced in front of his eyes. He thrashed his arms and legs but he couldn't free himself. He wasn't even sure which way was up. An unexpected warmth suffused his body and his last thoughts were of Octavia and just before oblivion claimed him a golden haired angel.
