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Heaven Can't Wait - Chapter 54
Chapter Fifty-Four - Enemies on Both Sides
Clarke follows the group back through the crowded corridors, badgering the Guards about his arrest. Bellamy tries to ignore the prying eyes of the people hiding in the halls from the storm, but the whispers get to him. He’s reminded of being a child and worrying people were talking about his family, whispering rumors that would spread to someone important.
Everyone already knows all your secrets now, though, the voice reminds him.
When they get to the Stockade, the place is packed thanks to all of the arrests in the Mess Hall earlier. David unlocks the cage but stands in front of the door, obviously struggling internally about locking Bellamy in with a bunch of people he just had arrested.
“We could cuff you out here,” he suggests.
“I can handle myself.”
David glances at the angry faces in the cage. “I don’t know, Bellamy. This could get rough. We’re already overcrowded.”
“Then start processing the earlier arrests. Let out those in here for smaller crimes.”
“We’ll try.”
David opens the door and uncuffs Bellamy. The cage is so crowded there are no more cots or seats. There’s almost no space on the floor either. There’s a group of disgruntled-looking Guardsmen that were arrested earlier in the corner watching him. They’re going to be trouble. There’s also a group of Grounders on the opposite side. It looks like the fighting didn’t end after the arrests. The groups have taken up territory on either side of Lockup with those in for other crimes just trying to stay out of the way.
“Bellamy,” Clarke whispers. “This isn’t right. You don’t have to do this.” She eyes the full lockup, brow furrowed.
Bellamy glances at David then steps closer to Clarke. The normal giddy feeling he gets this close to her is absent. Instead, the space is filled with confusion and a touch of anger. He pushes aside the building bitterness he felt in Medbay and kisses her softly on the forehead.
“I’ll be fine, Clarke. Trust me.”
She looks past him at the crowded confines, obviously not believing him. Then she surprises him with a kiss on the lips. There’s a short burst of electricity that shoots through his body, but it’s dulled by the ache of resentment in his heart. He notices the tears in her eyes a moment too late as she turns and marches out of the Stockade—no doubt ready to plead for his release with someone higher on the food chain. Poor Kane.
David gives him an equally sad look before the door clinks shut behind him, locking him in with enemies on both sides.
I figure you’ll be jumped in the next hour, the voice says.
Bellamy thinks it’s being overly optimistic as he ventures deeper into the cage in search of a space to sit. He passes a group of battered Grounders. At least two spit in his face before turning their backs to him. Others mutter foreign curses that leave nothing to the imagination.
A few yards in, the throngs of Grounders give way to a group of civilian Arkadians, stretched out on the floor. Bellamy pauses in front of a small piece of exposed wall. The civilians slide away, huddling together.
“No offense,” one mumbles when Bellamy takes a seat, “but we don’t want to get involved in whatever is going on.” The man motions to the group of Guards getting antsy in the corner while the lights flicker madly.
Bellamy grimaces. “No offense taken. Just try to stay out of the way if you can.” He leans his head back and crosses his legs in front of him—the picture of calm. At least on the outside. Inside, his stomach roils in anticipation.
The lights flicker again, dimming even more. The separate groups in the cage are getting more restless with the growing darkness, sizing each other up.
The Guards on duty have disappeared. Great. This is going to be an all-out riot if the lights go out.
When the lights go out. Because they will eventually.
Bellamy’s thoughts are disrupted by movement from the other side of the cage. Two men separate from the group of Guards, heading his way. So this is it? They’re not even going to wait for the lights to go out.
Bellamy tries to stay calm—look uncaring—even as his body tenses for the coming fight. There are at least seven Arkadian civilians and over a dozen Grounders in the cage watching him, probably waiting to see who will make the first move.
A middle-aged Guard that Bellamy doesn’t immediately recognize ambles over to join the first two men, thumbs hooked in his empty holster belt. His crew of five more forms a line behind him, blocking the potential view of the outside Guards—not that there are any left watching. Bellamy could yell for help, but considering the Guards already aren’t paying attention, it seems pointless.
If you still have a job after this, you’re going to have to clean house.
You mean if I survive the next ten minutes.
The man stops a few feet in front of him and now has the attention of the Grounders. “You know,” he says, words sort of slow and stretched, tinged with an accent that puts him in one of the ethnic enclaves of the Ark—most likely Russian. “Things were just fine before you showed up. We had our way of doing things. And it worked.”
Bellamy bristles. “Your way? Like bribery and extortion? Like forcing women into situations with sex being the only way out? The purging of, ‘your way,’ is a long time overdue.”
The man is faster than Bellamy expects. He darts forward, pinning him to the wall with a knee to Bellamy’s throat. “You forget, just months ago, you were one of us—helping Pike take care of the problems Kane wanted to ignore.” He looks to the Grounders, but they don’t react.
Bellamy shakes his head. “They already know who I am, and they’re not going to help you because they have an honor code.”
“Honor!”
“You probably wouldn’t understand since you forced girls to have sex with you to keep their parents out of Lockup.”
He has no idea if that’s true, but the fist that hits him hard in the temple says he was probably close to the mark. He tumbles into the civilians who try to scramble out of the way but get caught in the middle anyway. Bellamy’s too busy getting pummeled on all sides to protect them. All he can do is curl into a ball and wait for the end.
Then just as suddenly as it started, the beating ends. Guards rush into the cage, weapons out. Miller and his father are at the head of the group.
“Stand down now, Volkov,” David shouts, pointing his gun directly at Bellamy’s attacker.
Volkov puts his hands up, taking two lazy steps away, uncaring of the weapon in his face. The others follow suit.
Bellamy sits up, barely able to catch his breath from the pain in his chest from some probably cracked ribs. Miller offers him a hand, but he waves it away to just rest against the wall.
“What are you doing here?” he asks between gasps of air.
“Intuition,” Miller says with a snort. “Figured you’d get yourself into trouble eventually.”
Bellamy tries to smile, but his mouth doesn’t want to work right. He rubs his sore jaw.
Before he can come up with a retort, the lights finally go out. And stay out. He can feel the tension in the cage like a fog settling over his bruised skin. The Guardsmen with David Miller still have their weapons drawn, but now they can’t see their targets.
There are about ten seconds of absolute panic and uncertainty before the doors to the Stockade burst open, beams of light illuminating the tense situation.
Murphy comes in first, at the lead of a large, heavy box. “Never fear, the cavalry is here,” he drawls. He’s followed by more techs from engineering. A row of Guardsmen file in behind them, guns and lights drawn.
Miller snorts. “I never thought I’d be happy to see Murphy’s ugly face.”
A small smile pulls at the corner of Bellamy’s busted lips as he lets his eyes slide closed in relief.