XX

[PREVIOUSLY: Octavia takes the shot and blows the bridge but suffers from the aftermath of such a decision in the sick ward. Murphy makes an appearance and informs her of the state of the camp and Octavia is left wondering how much longer the grounders will stay away].

It had been two days since the bridge explosion.

In that time, sickness had riddled the entire camp. Everyone had been affected by the contagious virus, everyone, that is, except for Finn and I. For some reason, our immune systems were strong enough to reject the threatening germs.

Along with Murphy, the three of us laboured long into the night, rinsing wet cloths over feverish bodies, providing buckets when the urge to throw up showed itself and handing out water to quench dry and thirsty throats.

For most, the virus wasn't life-threatening, but for the weakest, it was a different story. Within a matter of hours, we lost five people to the disease and another three later the next day.

If the grounders were to attack us now, we'd be ripe for the picking. The ones who pulled through the sickness were too weak to even stand while the others who didn't make it were dumped outside the camp in our 'burial ground'. As for Murphy, Finn and I, we were so exhausted, we, too, would've been unable to defend ourselves from any forthcoming attack.

The long shadows of the evening where falling upon our camp as the second day wound to a close. Finn was replenishing our water supplies down by the river. Murphy was making the rounds on the lower level of the drop-ship. And, on the upper level of the ship, I, alongside a recovering Jasper and Harper, were making maps of the surrounding area.

"Oh geez," Harper suddenly let out a groan as her hand flew to her forehead.

"Harper, are you okay?" Jasper queried anxiously as he glanced up at her.

I followed suit and studied her features closely. "Your face has gone as white as a sheet," I murmured, pushing back my chair and stepping over to her. I placed the back of my hand on her forehead and sighed. "It seems like you're having another hot flush. Let's get you downstairs and into the fresh air. When Finn gets back with the water, then you can rest."

Harper nodded and shrugged in agreement as she staggered to her feet. Slowly and painstakingly, I assisted her down the ladder. With Harper's arms wrapped limply around my waist and her face pressed into my neck, I shuffled slowly across the floor towards the drop-ship door.

My eyes travelled over of the rows of coughing, spluttering youths, their skin shining with sweat and their bodies shaking in feverish sleep. I pressed my lips firmly together as Harper and I passed by them. I couldn't believe how brutal and cold Anya was to have infected Murphy with such a horrible disease. I knew I never really had a chance to get through to her, but the breaking point with Lexa had been this close ... And then ... I closed my eyes as I remembered the explosion.

I shook my head, clearing the cobwebs from my brain.

"We're nearly there," I grunted out an encouragement to Harper as her weight starting to bear down on me. "C'mon ... oomph!"

Harper's head lolled to one side and her body careened sharply against mine. Unable to hold her up, my slight frame went tumbling to the floor.

"Oh my god," I gasped out as I landed flat on my back. Propping myself up on my elbows, I glanced over towards an unconscious Harper who was sprawled across the ground a few metres away. "Harper? Oh geez. Harper!" I leaned forward and grabbed one of her shoulders, trying to shake her from her stupor ... But it didn't work.

It looked like she'd had a relapse! I had to get to Finn and the water ... right now!

Leaping to my feet, my eyes darted wildly throughout the room. Then, I paused.

Cautiously, I approached a nearby hammock upon which lay the large and motionless form of a dark-skinned African boy. As I gazed down at him, I recognised him as one of Bellamy's loyal followers. His big build and sharp features reminded me of Wells.

Just thinking about the way Wells met his end made my heart sink in sadness. Maybe it was a good thing that he had been the first one to die. Now he didn't have to endure what we were going through.

A slight, sheepish smile tugged at my lips as I grabbed the boy's blankets and pulled them up over his chest.

Suddenly, a frown creased my brow. Tentatively, I placed my fingers against the vein in his neck. Nothing. With wide eyes and a panicking mind, I ripped back the blankets and stared, in horror, at his chest - that wasn't moving. As my hand, once again, found its way onto his face, I jerked back. His body was cold.

He was dead.

Gasping for breath, I stumbled backwards. Whirling around, I dashed out of the drop-ship and rushed towards the camp gates.

"Finn!" I screamed. "Finn!"

"Octavia? What the hell is the matter?"

With a startled jolt, I spun around, coming face-to-face with ...

"Bellamy?" I breathed. "Bellamy, what are you doing? You're sick! You're supposed to be in bed."

Bellamy shook his head, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. "No. I'm fine. Now, tell me what's wrong."

I hesitated before confessing, "Another one's dead."

Bellamy froze. His face drained of all colour and his jaw clenched in anger. "No. No. Who?"

I shrugged. "I don't know his name, but I think he used to run around with you and the other boys. Tall guy, defined nose, African ..."

"Conner," Bellamy groaned as he passed a hand over his face. "Crap. Crap!" So saying, Bellamy turned and slammed his fist against the wooden frame of the gate we were standing in front of.

I bit my lip, tears trembling in my eyes. "I - I'm so sorry, Bell, truly I ..."

I was cut off mid-sentence by the sound of crackling static that erupted from the walkie-talkie hanging on Bellamy's belt.

Surprised, I glanced down towards it, just as the muffled voice of Murphy broke through the speaker, "You know what will happen to me if you tell Bellamy."

Bellamy and I exchanged confused glances as he plucked the walkie-talkie from his belt. "Tell Bellamy what?" he demanded sharply, his forehead creased in concerned concentration.

For a moment, only silence met his statement. Then, Murphy's twisted tone spoke again, "Give me the radio, Jasper."

Murphy? Jasper? Together? In the drop-ship? What was going on?

"Murphy's got a gun! He killed Conner!" Jasper's frantic voice pierced the air before a loud CRACK cut him off.

"Murphy! What the hell are you doing?" Bellamy shouted into the walkie-talkie.

Before he or I had any chance to react, the loud grinding sound of metal scraping against metal filled the air.

Oh no.

Murphy was shutting the drop-ship door!

Bellamy and I broke into a frenzied run, hoping to catch the door before it completely closed ... But by the time we got there, it was too late. The door was sealed and the compartment was locked from the inside.

"Murphy!" I screamed. "Murphy, open the damn door!"

"Murphy!" Bellamy bellowed as he pounded his fists against the drop-ship walls. "Let us in! NOW!"

The reply we heard was short, sharp and to the point: "Either of you try to be a hero and Jasper dies!"

Gif: Octavia as she leans over Conner.

XX