Wounds [Bellamy Blake]

Hold On To Hope [Chapter 39]

                Though Murphy’s scream revealed that he was alive, his eyes were dead. How long had he been subjected to this?

                “Stop!” I screamed, “I’m telling you the truth!”

                But it was too late; the finger had been severed.

                Anya pulled away and looked at me, studying my expression, though there was no way for me to make it look like I was telling the truth more than I already was.

                “Where I am from, we thought Earth was still toxic!” I screamed, sobs breaking my speech. “Our home is dying, what they did to us was a form of population control.”

                She eyed me, and then Murphy, who was nodding.

                “So, you come from a line of fools.” She remarked, “It’s a miracle that you have survived this long.”

                “We were sent here to die, and we beat the odds.”

                “It’s not over yet.” Her tone suggested fury, anger, and confidence.

                She grabbed Murphy’s bloody and shaking hand again, pressing her blade to another finger. Murphy whimpered, looking at me with pleading eyes this time. I knew that I needed to say whatever to stop the mutilation.

                “When I’m done with the fingers and toes, I’ll move to the nose, ears… and perhaps some lower extremities.”

                I stared her down then, waiting for her questions.

                “Are more coming down?” She asked.

                I nodded, “We are in contact with them, they have decided to bring the rest of us down; there are over two thousand.”

                She frowned, but believed me. “Your kind, they are hostile, vicious… We have seen what you can do to one of our own, but one of us is a very different story than all of us.”

                I took that as some type of threat, but nodding politely which seemed to please her.

                “What are they going to do when they come down?”

                This was a question I was unsure how to answer.

                “They have no told us.” I started, “My guess, as I was simply a lowborn criminal, is that they intend to start a life here, build homes, a town, start over. I cannot say if they will be hostile towards you and even us.”

                My wide eyes stared at her in front of me, her blade flush against Murphy’s ring finger. With my breath hitched, I waited for her to take another one of his fingers, but she lowered the blade and nodded towards Dani.

                “Take them to the ward.” She commanded, “Bandage him and keep them secured in there. I want no rogue captives.”

                We were brought back to the ward, where we found less patients than before. Many of them who had endured harsh wounds such as an arrow to the shoulder or a large gash on their legs had left, and I wondered just how tough these Grounders were; far more than those of us from the Arc. An ankle wound had put me out for over a week even after it had been cauterized, and Bellamy’s hand had been damaged pretty badly. I still wore a scar from the blade that we used to cut down Murphy; though Octavia had healed her knee quite well. Perhaps the Grounders had very efficient means of rehabilitation and medication.

                “Murphy… How long have you been here?” I asked when we were told to sit and stay; food was going to be brought to us.

                “Days… maybe weeks?” It was clear he had no true identification of time.

                “Since you were banished?”

                “A day or two after.” He told me.

                “I’m sorry this happened to you.” I wanted to cry for him, but I had to stay stronger than that; if I showed weakness to Anya she would kill Murphy without a second thought.

                “Sure.” He didn’t believe my words.

                Felicity joined us in the room, Dani behind her with two metal bowls. The red head crouched down in front of Murphy and gently took his hand, applying a black piece of cloth to his fingerless joint, slowing the blood slightly. Once the cloth was soaked through, Felicity added another one, and until the blood stopped, she held it there. When it seemed to become more like molasses than water, she bounced off to begin warming a blade to cauterize the wound.

                “Eat.” Dani said, placing a bowl of charred meat in front of us. Next to the flesh was mushrooms, carrots, and something that resembled cherries.

                I picked up the flesh with a disgusted face and plopped it into Murphy’s bowl, who eagerly accepted the food. I picked at the remaining food under the intense glare of Dani; her harshness seemingly increasing when I denied the food. The way Murphy savoured the food made me think that they had been starving him; he was quite thin. Though I should have taken all that was given to me, I wasn’t planning on staying for long; my goal was to either escape or to be rescued.

                “Can you hold his hand?” Felicity asked me. I was in the middle of chewing a mushroom, but nodded, surprised that she was even asking for my help.

                “Sorry about this.” I grabbed Murphy’s hand and held it tight while Felicity burned the exposed flesh and nerve endings. Murphy pulled his hand back, but I had a firm grip. The young girl finished the harsh task and handed the hot dagger to Dani, who sunk it in a bowl of water, chilling it before sheathing it.

                “We’re all dying.” Murphy said after ours meals had been finished and only Dani remained at the door; everyone else gone to do their business, whatever that was.

                “No, we aren’t.” I said, “Most of us are still kicking, and the people on the Arc are going to come down.”

                “We cannot survive them.” He said, “And there are people worse than them.”

                “What? How?”

                “They call them Reapers… Savage people who torture, kill and even eat them.”

                “Cannibals?” I asked, having read about cannibalism being prominent in some ancient cultures, or even some desperate situations.

                He nodded, “And they have spoken of the Mountain Men before.”

                “And?”

                “That’s all I’ve heard them say.” He explained. “I think they fear them, though.”

                I wanted to shake more information out of him, but the boy looked far too worn out to be pressured. He looked like he was about to crack, if he hadn’t already.

                “We’ll get out of here.” I told him, “They won’t let me… us die here.”

                Bellamy would easily come back for me, I hoped. But I hardly thought he would accept Murphy back to camp.

So, I got mixed results from the question I posed yesterday! I am still considering exactly what I want to do with my story, and since I will have to do original writing once I reach the end of the season, I would like to have some things set up for that. Currently writing chapter 42 right now, any messages or comments with insight and motivation is awesome!