Wounds [Bellamy Blake]

Our People [Chapter 65]

                Some silence passed as Bjorn thought about how to tell me about the Mountain Men. When he finally came out with it, my nerves were completely shot. The suspense was the only thing keeping me going; forcing back the idea of Bellamy into the back of my mind to ease my pain.

                “We know little about the Mountain Men.” He admitted. “They hide up on Mount Weather, rarely coming down to trifle with the likes of us, or the Reapers. They are dangerous, they care nothing for the well-being of others, only to snatch up our young and we never see them return.”

                “Are they like us?”

                “In stature, yes. Smaller than me, though.” Bjorn said, though he was a very large person to begin with.

                “Why do you fear them?”

                “As I said, they take some of us, and do not return.” He said, “They have weapons… Unimaginable weapons. Similar to those that you had.”

                “Guns?”

                “Yes.”

                “Maybe they are survivors from the Cataclysm…” I began, “Well, of course they are. But maybe they have supplies like they do on the Arc, medicine and, and… We should go to them, I can tell them who we are, they might accept us.”

                “They took your people.”

                “You don’t know that…”

                “I do.” He said, “Just as they have taken my people.”

                “Tell me about the woman you spoke of before.” I changed the subject, though I still had hope that these Mountain Men were humane folk like those on the Arc.

                “No.” Bjorn had said enough, or at least more than he wanted to.

                “Bjorn…” I needed distraction. Though I had hope that Bellamy was still alive on Mount Weather, it was a small fraction of hope in a world that had drained me everything.

                “I found her body, face down in the calm water of the river.” He told me, “The river ran red as her body bumped against the large rocks, trying to move down the current. I still have no idea what happened to her, nor will I ever.”

                “What was her name?”

                “Sonja.”

                “That is a beautiful name.” I smiled, though I knew that my words would not bring her back or ease his pain.

                We arrived back where Lincoln and Octavia were; the brunette was asleep in the Grounders arms, her leg wound wrapped. Lincoln met eyes with Bjorn and then cast them back down to Octavia. Brushing her fringe out of her eyes, he gently woke her, though no smile touched his lips when she smiled up at him. As he assisted her up, she glanced at me and widened her already large orb.

                “Bell…?” Her voice shook when she spoke.

                “I have no idea.” I admitted, “They are all gone.”

                “Gone…” She echoed sadly. A spark lit in her eyes then, “We saw the Arc.”

                “What?”