HUNDREDS OF PRISONERS - AGAIN.

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LOST IN FIRE (book three).
°•        CHAPTER THREE        •°

"        WHAT THE HELL DO WE DO?       "

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Harley felt warm all over as she smiled, so graceful and comforted at the idea that she couldn't find the words to express it. The mechanic had worked nonstop for a year, and now, there was more than hope they would return home. She had watched Raven nearly lose her mind trying to find a way down, every single day. It felt great that she had discovered a newfound solution but it couldn't compare to the overwhelming relief and happiness that Harley had nearly forgotten was like. She was going to see Octavia again at their planet they hadn't walked upon in years. It buzzed through her veins, desperate to break free.

"That's not all we have," Monty added. Harley turned her head to see his gloved hand flicked a switch and something new popped up. A waved line appeared in an oval, being followed with a static noise. "Lasercom," Monty explained to them.

"I mean it, McCreary. I'm not losing any more men today."

Every emotion Harley had deflated at the voice she didn't recognize coming from the radio's speaker. It was a woman but she couldn't pinpoint it. "Is that one of the prisoners?" She questioned.

"Has to be," Monty responded, focused. "Our radios were blocked by the residual radiation on Earth, but lasercom was designed to cut through worse atmospheric conditions than that."

Eagerly, Murphy jumped out of the chair. "Well, can we talk to them?"

"Wait," Bellamy stopped him. "We don't know who we're dealing with." He was right. Harley wanted to shout into the radio, search for any living information that Octavia was alive, but they didn't know who these people were. They more than likely had no idea who Octavia was. The only thing they had in common was being prisoners, or in Harley's case, in which she was just a delinquent. And she knew how dangerous their days at the dropship camp were. There's no telling how deadly these people were just yet.

A deeper voice, clearly male this time, spoke next. "Movement to the northwest."

"McCreary, do you see it?"

"I've found something better than movement. I've got tracks."

Softly gasping, shaking her head, Raven whirled to snap Bellamy out of his shocked gaze. "They're hunting our people."

"We don't know that," Murphy said, unsure.

"Yes, we do," Harley countered. There wasn't any other explanation. "There's no one else left on the ground except Octavia." Clarke was... Gone. They've all accepted that a long, long time ago although it still sent a pang to her heart that she lost another friend, a close one at that.

At her name, Echo turned her head, cautioning Harley and Bellamy. "Whatever this is, Octavia can handle it," she reminded them.

"So we just sit here?" Harley asked angrily.

"We don't have another option," Echo said calmly.

While the pair argued, Raven nudged Monty aside. "Move over." He gave her more room and she leaned forward, taking over his keyboard and screen.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Bellamy questioned her, stepping behind her.

"Finding out who we're dealing with," Raven answered simply. He backed off.

"All units, be advised. Subject is armed and dangerous," the commanding female voice declared. "We are in her backyard. She knows the terrain. Keep your eyes open."

There was a pause before new panicked voices chimed in. "I see her! Moving in! There she is, on the ridge!" Her? She? Harley squeezed her eyes shut, the only image in her head was Octavia, running for her life even if it could be anyone that was inside of the bunker. Octavia must have been the leader. They would want her most of all, Harley could only hope they wanted her to be alive. "We're closing in!"

A few cracks. Then, the same commander. "McCreary, we heard gunfire. Report." Nothing. Only a beat of silence. "I said report, McCreary."

The dark male finally responded. "Relax, Colonel. I told you we'd get her, and we did. She's a feisty one. Pretty too," he drawled out. Harley clenched her fists at her side so tightly her skin turned white, becoming taunt. She felt as if she was going to lose her mind at the unknown.

"Good work," she said. "Bring her to me. We got a lot to talk about."

Bellamy seemingly had a change of heart. For a moment, Harley thought he looked like the one she remembered on the ground, long before the ring as his features underneath the beard he had grown over the years turned hard. "We have to get down there," he declared. "Now."

"That's the plan," Raven said, holding her hand up, too relaxed for Harley's liking.

"That's been the plan for the last year," Harley cut in seriously. "Now we're here. So what the hell do we do?"

Before either Raven or Monty can speak, the woman who was called Colonel spoke darkly. "Change of plans, ladies and gentleman. No more prisoners. Shoot to kill."

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Wheels squeaking echoed through the empty halls by how quick Murphy was helping Monty in pushing along a tank they found for Raven. Harley tried to block it out, the comfort of her sword still in her sheath enough to keep her calm as they slowly walked back to the control room. She still couldn't shake away the hunch that there were eyes on her, but her mind was distracted, wandering to thoughts of Earth and who was down there. Surely Octavia was out of the bunker along with the rest? Harley knew they were the only people left on Earth, not since there were no real nightbloods left. And Clarke died saving them all. So it only made her think in worry Octavia and everyone else was most likely being hunted.

"Go slow, Murphy." Monty's warning made Harley look over. "This stuff's combustible."

"No kidding," Murphy drawled out dully. "Just tell me we're going the right way. This place gives me the creeps."

Monty nodded. "We're almost back to the docking bay."

"You're afraid of an empty ship?" Echo asked from beside Harley, eyes locked on the trail in front of them. "You should be more worried about what's waiting for us on the ground."

"What's new?" Harley retorted. "The cycle doesn't stop. What's the point in worrying?"

"I worry about more than one thing at a time," Murphy piped in. "It's called multi-tasking."

For once, Murphy sounded more alive than he ever had on the ring. Harley thought for a moment that maybe he was actually excited to return to their planet and considered he truly was, after being depressed for so long. Even Echo noticed, who slowly grinned. "Well, the old Murphy's back," she noticed. "I, for one, missed your stupid little jokes."

Grinning back, Murphy called out. "Thank you, Echo!"

"Please, don't encourage him," Monty pleaded.

Murphy rolled his eyes, smile dropping. "He just misses his algae farm."

Taken off guard, Monty squinted his eyes in Murphy's direction. "What's that supposed to mean?" He demanded.

"It's pretty clear you'd rather we stay on the ring," Murphy said.

"You mean where we were safe, well-fed, plenty of water, friends, people we love?" Monty listed off the bonuses of being in the ring. Harley tensed, knowing they were all safe in the ring, but the one downside of being in the ring held her from ever wanting to go back. Octavia. "Why would anyone want to stay there?" Monty finished with sarcasm.

"Come on, man, we were stuck in a metal tube for two-thousand, two-hundred and one days," Murphy fired back. "But who's counting?"

But Monty only became harsher. "And while the rest of us were working every one of those days to make life better, to learn things, you sat on your ass and did nothing." Murphy bowed his head. "Pushing Emori away because she dared to find a skill that made her more useful than you."

"Hey, Monty," Harley interrupted sharply, thinking back to all the times she had deep talks with Murphy and learned more about what he felt than anyone else. "That's enough."

"No," Murphy protested. "Tell me how you really feel, Monty."

Suddenly stopping, Monty released the tank and straightened his back. "I thought I just did," he said coldly.

"You're just mad because I'm excited to go back down to the ground instead of hiding from the real world," Murphy stated.

Harley turned to join them, not noticing that Echo had wandered ahead without her. "I said that's enough, both of you," she repeated, more hardened.

"Guys?" Echo faintly called to them but going ignored.

"He doesn't like being called useless?" Monty guessed, questioning Harley before him. "Do you, Murphy?"

"I don't know. Do you like being called a coward?" Murphy challenged, stepping closer so they were face to face.

"Useless."

"Coward."

Before Harley could intervene, Echo was stopping them by grabbing her shoulder and tugging her back. "Guys!" She exclaimed, finally putting an end to the banter. The three looked to her, seeing she had an alarmed and panicked expression. "You need to see this."

Frowning, Harley was on guard at Echo's face. "See what?"

Cocking her head, Echo gestured for them to follow her without a word. Harley understood why she was so freaked when they were led to a shut door. Monty stumbled, gripping Harley's arm to catch himself, too frozen with fear like something would jump out. For a moment, she was worried someone would. They had come to a large room where hundreds of what looked like beds rested in separate lines, a frosty cover shielding them. Harley couldn't see much through the glass, but she knew what was resting there. More of the prisoners.

"I don't believe it," Monty breathed out, gaping. "Cryosleep."

"Cryo?" Echo repeated. "What does it mean?"

"Means the prisoners are still here," Murphy said before Monty could.

Harley shook her head. "Means we're all screwed."

No one argued with her. Monty instead grabbed the handle of the door, slowly turning it before gingerly pushing it open. Harley brought her hand back, her fingers brushing against the handle of her sword before Monty stopped her. "Wait." He took a few steps inside. "They're sleeping." He tilted his head in wonder. "They're full. There's hundreds of them."

"Monty," Murphy called from the open door. "We already got the fuel, man. Let's just load it up and get the hell out of here." Harley nodded tightly. There's no telling how long it would take before they all woke up. And if there really were hundreds, two swords and seven people weren't going to stop them.

"Murphy's right," Echo agreed. "Let's go."

Breaking out of his haze, Monty finally gave in, turning away and joining the three while shutting the door behind him to separate them from the prisoners. Harley's mind was whirring as they moved faster to where their pod was, attempting to shove aside the fright that the prisoners could wake up from their sleep at any moment. Not even Monty complained about moving the tank of fuel too fast, making Harley guess they all shared the same fear.

Emori was pressed against the wall, arms crossed over her chest with a defeated look as Harper put her hand on her shoulder. They were softly speaking to one another, too soft for Harley to hear either of them. "It's time to go!" Murphy called, announcing their presence loudly and startling them.

"Harper, I need the siphon," Monty hurriedly instructed her.

"Monty, can you handle the fueling?" Echo questioned. "We need to go warn Bellamy and Raven." She touched Harley's upper arm, referring to her.

Stopping in her tracks, Harper spun on her heels. "Warn them about what?"

"I'll explain," Monty reassured them, nodding to Echo and Harley. "Go."

With that, Harley took off down the ship's hall. Her boots thudded against the ground from how fast her legs pumped, her short hair flying behind her. She knew that Raven and Bellamy could handle themselves, especially after all the training they all had done, but these prisoners were unpredictable. Harley knew their guard was down, thinking they were completely alone, unaware that prisoners were still aboard the ship. Sleeping or not, they were dangerous. And they'd take care of them all.

There was a shouting coming from the bay when Harley and Echo neared the door. She burst in, her eyes landing and processing what was happening fast. Bellamy was fighting, kicking his legs and trying to get out of the chokehold that a very muscular man in a prisoner uniform had on him. "Hey!" Echo shouted.

The man dropped Bellamy, turning at the noise, a smug look at the two girls that had joined him. Harley gritted her teeth, rushing to bring her arm up and grab the handle of her sword. With one swift action, she flung her arm forward, causing the blade to spin in a circle in the air before the tip was embedding itself into the man's chest. Harley started to grin, filling with pride, until she watched his reaction.

It was like he didn't have a sword sticking out of his chest. He only brought his hand up, quickly gripping the handle and ripping it out like it caused him no pain at all. Harley's sword fell to the ground with a clatter as Raven picked herself off the ground, limping to the man and trying to attack him from behind. He spun, catching her arm and twisting it.

With Raven crying out, Echo darted forward, brandishing her own sword. "Let her go!" She brought the blade down, the sharpness bringing a deep line down his back. He hardly reacted like he had with Harley's attack, but did release Raven as he turned to kick Echo away. Harley ran to put a hand out for Echo, trying to help her while swiping up her sword at the same time.

Suddenly, Bellamy came running towards him, this time with a weapon of his own. A thick wire was brought around their attacker's neck, and he tugged as hard as he could, throwing himself on his back. The man struggled, grunting as he tried to buck Bellamy off while clawing at the wire strangling him. Bellamy slid off, tightening his grip with another pull and making him fall to his knees. His skin became a slow mix of both blue and purple as he let out one last shuddering breath before becoming limp.

Releasing him by pulling the wire back, Bellamy watched as the man he killed crumpled to the ground. He panted, attempting to hold himself up with a hand on the wall. Harley's blue eyes flickered from the dead man to Bellamy, knowing it was their first kill in over six years. She couldn't imagine how Bellamy felt after so many years of peace.

"One down," Raven said between her panting gasps. "Two-hundred ninety-nine to go."