Haunted || Octavia Blake || 1 ||

60: R e a p e r T u n n e l s

Suddenly, Lincoln's words from earlier replayed through my mind: "Anyone who walks through here dies."

I shivered at the thought. Shaking such things from my cobwebbed brain, I pushed myself to my feet and wrapped my arms around my waist.

"We have to keep moving," Lincoln told us. "C'mon."

Finn and I exchanged worried glances as we started after him.

"Why are you helping us?" I piped up, my quiet, wavering voice piercing the thick stillness of the air around me. "It can't just be because of Aidan."

Lincoln sent me a dark look.

"Fine. Don't tell us then," I muttered, kicking aimlessly at a stone on the ground near my feet.

"What my people are doing to yours is wrong," Lincoln suddenly spoke.

He didn't say anything more, but he didn't need too.

In that moment, as Lincoln and I looked into each other's eyes, we both knew, deep down, that we were more than just mere acquaintances with similar goals for the future. We were allies. We were friends. And we were going to win this war ... together.

"Let's go," Lincoln gave me a firm nod before taking off. The bright flame of his torch illuminated an orange glow on the path before us and cast long black shadows across the walls.

The earthen floor was below me and the rocky walls were all around me, but for the first time in my life, I didn't feel trapped, I didn't feel scared, I didn't feel like the girl under the floor.

I felt like a grounder.

We all pressed on for a few more minutes, going deeper and deeper into the dark, wallowing abyss. Trickles of dirtied water escalated down rows of ragged rocks. Splatters of mud decorated the large, towering walls. The occasional pile of bones and skulls littered the floor, festering maggots and rotting the air with its smell. The further we went, the worse the stench became and the more dead faeces and remains I saw.

"This place is so creepy," Finn whispered in my ear as Lincoln came to an abrupt halt up ahead.

Before I got a chance to reply, Lincoln waved Finn over and handed him the torch he'd been holding. Then, he dug into the pack that was strung across his broad, bulky back and took out a crinkled, brown map.

Finn and I looked over Lincoln's shoulder as he studied it. "Wait. So, if you've never been down here, how'd you map it?"

"Spoils of war," Lincoln returned gruffly.

As Finn and Lincoln examined the area, I slowly walked away from them, venturing deeper into the darkness.

The distant noises of hoots and shouts reached my ears. Drawing back, I breathed, "What is that?"

Lincoln jerked his head up and listened to the sickening, spine-tingling battle cries.

"Reapers."

Ripping the torch off of Finn, Lincoln hastily put it out and cast it aside. Cutting off Finn's words of protest, he stated, "We can't risk having them see us."

"Which way do we go?" I queried in a low tone, my eyes straining to see in the deep darkness that had enveloped us.

"Towards the Reapers," Lincoln replied as he reached over and grasped my hand. "Octavia, grab Finn and don't let him go."

I nodded wordlessly, fumbling around until my fingers brushed against Finn's.

"This can't be the only way, check the map," Finn argued.