𝐃𝐔𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘 ── bellamy blake ¹ ✓

[ 21 ] live to see another day

Out of the blue, Bellamy twists his way behind a tall barrel that marks the dead end of our escape, pulling me in to hide with him. Silently, he forces me to stand against the wall in the corner, sandwiching me between himself and the barrels and blocking me from the viewpoint from around the corner. My hearts slams agaisnt my ribcage until the sides of my head are painfully pulsing with the same force and my eyes suddenly blur; if it's caused by the sharp start of quick movements or an unexpected wave of unshed tears -- I have no clue. Nonetheless, I stare at him incredulously, a silent storm raging behind my eyes, "We can't blow it up while we're here."

"That's why we're leaving," he whispers back in quick explanation, pausing for a moment to listen for any approaching threat, before his eyes flicker back towards me, "See that vent? You're going in first."

I raise on the tips of my toes, peaking over his shoulder. Bellamy points at yet another hole in the wall, nodding curtly as if confirming to himself that it is the only way we can escape. I lower myself back down, attempting to steady my breathing and quietly protesting, "They are literally standing just down this way, with guns."

"I know!" Bellamy retorts begrudgingly, words spewing out in barely legible statements due to the volume of our voices and the urgency to leave, "That's why I'm distracting them so I can follow you later."

I begin shaking my head frantically, narrowly missing the corners of steel beside my head, "No, no way. We go together."

"We might not make it at the same time," replies Bellamy, beginning to unclip his vest, "Then take this."

"Fuck no! No, you need it more. Look, let's just run. We have to do it at the same time otherwise they'll expect one of us to follow and will shoot us," I struggle to level my whisper due to the flame in my lungs that can only be tamed by deep and steady breaths, yet there is no time as the fee guards begin approaching the barrel we're hiding behind.

"Show yourselves! Hands first," one of the guards demands, voice audibly coming closer in the matter of seconds. It's now or never.

"On three," curtly nods Bellamy, swallowing heavily and positioning himself opposite of the hole in the wall, gesturing for me to stand on his left; his right side will face the hall, "Three, two, one!"

We leap across the narrow path that stands without cover, shoulder tightly pressed to shoulder in an attempt to stay as far out of potential gunshot trajectory as possible; surely enough, as the two of us reach the wall on the other side and we are able to hide behind a large pipe that momentarily blocks us from the guards' viewpoint, Bellamy pushes me into the confined space first and then follows himself, barely giving me time to free him some room as several gunshots thunder through the air and bullets clutter to the stone floor. My forehead slams against a corner of the entrance as I make my way in but I don't complain as I'd favor this minor injury over a gunshot wound any day.

The force of our heavy limbs crawling deeper into the vents rattles the metal slates all around us, and the loud thud of my gun falling out from the waistband of my pants overpowers the gentle trembling; I leave it to Bellamy, who grips it along with his own weapon and points at the real guards of Mount Weather that have reached the end of the vent -- I deduce so when I halt right after I've entered an intersection that obscures me from their view and Bellamy fires four, no, five shots of warning. For a second, I only hear the sound of my own racing heartbeat, as violent in my ears as the following shots Bellamy fires a mere moment later, heralding the threat of destruction that echoes throughout the vents. Suddenly, the two guns only release two soft clicks and, terror-filled, I jump to descend further down the vent as I realize what those mean; Bellamy is out of ammo.