Daylight |Bellamy Blake

Four

The first thing I hear when I wake up can only be described as chaos. People shout, scream and squeal as they race past each other. I open one eye and am immediately blinded by the extreme brightness of the sun, now that will take some getting used to.

I close my eyes again and sit up rubbing them and then when I open them I am more accustomed to the bright sun so I can see clearly. But all I can see are people messing around everywhere, as much fun as I had yesterday, it had gone too far. Now we needed to get more serious, if we want to survive here we need to start getting organised. We needed water and food and to start to set up some shelter for us.

I get up and try to convince some people to help me get us all settled and get our necessities, but Bellamy's little 'whatever the hell we want' was the majority of my answers. I sigh in defeat as I decide I'm done begging for these kids' help, perhaps if I talk to Bellamy he can make them listen.

However that task proved more complicated than I initially thought, it was as if the guy had walked off the face of the earth. During my search, some kids had made some drums and were currently making such a racket it was making my head begin to ache, that joint with my dehydrated state wasn't great.

As I approach the drop ship, my purpose intertwines with Wells' path, and my desire to bridge the gap becomes clear. The rush of my hasty actions from the previous night, fueled by newfound freedom, had left a bitter aftertaste. It was time to make amends, to recognize the value of unity over division. Wells stands before me, his features initially marked by scepticism, but as I speak, his countenance softens.

"I'm sorry," the words tumble out, laced with genuine remorse. "For last night, I got too caught up in the fray and in Bellamy's words. I shouldn't have been so rude to you, after all, you were right."

His response is understanding, a bridge extended between us. A smile emerges on my lips, a relief to know that my impulsive actions hadn't entirely soured our relationship. "You can make it up to me by helping," he suggests, turning the situation into an opportunity for cooperation.

"Sure, we have a lot to do. Where did you get those clothes anyways?"

"I buried the two kids who didn't make the landing."

The somberness of his words strikes a chord within me, a reminder that amid our newfound liberation, there was still a stark reality of life and death to contend with. But our conversation transitions swiftly, threading the conversation with the practical necessities of survival. Setting up camp, sourcing water, the immediate demands of our circumstances command our attention. "Oh"

"I figured we could share them by necessity"

"That's a good idea, and we need to start setting up camp," I say to him and he nods. "We will have to find some water and pray what the others bring back from Mount Weather is good"

"Yeah" He says as we round the drop ship towards the entrance but are stopped in our tracks as a boy named Atom stands in our path.

"Hey, where'd you get the clothes?" He says eyeing up the pile in Wells' arms and I step forward protectively, not liking the glint in his eyes at all.

"Buried the two kids who died during the landing" Wells answers him.

"Smart" Atom says nodding his head. "You know, I'll take it from here. There's always a market for..." He reaches out and tries to pull the clothes from Wells' arms, I push him back as Wells steps back tightening his grip on the bundle of clothes.

"We share based on need, just like back home" Just as Wells says it I see the tarp to the drop ship open and Bellamy walk out and damn...

Bellamy is shirtless and I can see his perfectly toned muscles on his tanned skin. He seems to have a gun tucked into the waistband of his trousers, I don't know where he got that from. A cocky smirk is on his freckled face and his hair is all tousled, now that the hair gel has worn out his dark hair has formed into a mess of curls.