Kings // c. griffin

Twenty One

Saying that Bellamy Blake was angry was an understatement. "Is this your revenge, helping the grounders kill us?" he sneered, his eyes narrowed at Murphy. His fingers twitched where they rested against his gun and Isaac eyed the weapon warily.

Murphy's eyes were only half open, his face so swollen that it took a significant amount of effort to keep his eyes from closing. "I didn't know about this, okay... I swear," Murphy's voice was weak and Isaac bit his lip, looking up at Bellamy with big eyes. He didn't know what to believe. And as much as he disliked the boy in front of him, Isaac was hoping that if he was given a second chance he wouldn't blow it.

"Stop lying!" Bellamy bellowed. "When are they coming?"

Isaac looked at Murphy, then back to Bellamy with a shrug. "Maybe he doesn't know that," he put in helpfully, earning a glare from the older boy.

Clarke sighed. "Murphy, think, alright?" she pleaded. "What can you tell us that's useful? Did you hear anything?"

Murphy shuffled against the wall and Isaac thought it looked like he was trying to shrug. "They're vicious, cruel."

Bellamy wasn't in the mood for vague answers, and he took a few threatening steps forwards. "You want to see vicious?"

Isaac quickly reached out and grabbed him by the arm, his lean fingers wrapping around his bicep as he hurriedly pulled him backwards. When Bellamy turned to glare at him, Isaac gave him a disapproving look. "Whatever this is spreads by contact, Bellamy."

The curtain behind them opened again and Finn rushed in. "Clarke?" he worried.

"Finn!" the blonde's eyes widened. "You shouldn't be in here. No one should."

Finn shook his head, unable to keep the concern out of his eyes as he looked around the room for a second, and then he went back to staring at Clarke. "I heard you were sick," he said. "Clarke, what is this?"

Clarke bowed her head. "I don't know," she admitted. "Some kind of hemorrhagic fever. We just need to contain it before--"

At this moment, Derek began retching. His body jerked and curled and shook as he coughed, and it seemed as if he were choking on something. The timing at which this happened was almost comical, had the situation not been so serious. Isaac furrowed his eyebrows, unsure if he should step forwards and help the poor boy or cover his face and back away. He did neither, instead opting to stare at him in horror as his body trembled one last time and the coughing stopped.

Derek's body was completely still. Isaac didn't want to be the one to point out what everyone was thinking, but nobody had said anything as Clarke scurried over to the unresponsive boy's side. "Is he...?" his voice was just above a whisper. He sounded worn out.

Clarke removed her fingers from the pulse point on Derek's neck, and if it was possible she looked even paler than she had a few moments ago. "He's dead," she rasped. Clarke pulled herself up before grabbing a canteen. She looked at both Finn and Isaac. "Here, alcohol. Hold out your hands." Both of them did as asked and she poured the liquid over their fingers. Isaac nervously rubbed his hands together before wiping them on his pants in a lame attempt to dry them. He sucked in a breath between his teeth, his eyes going to Clarke.

"What do we do?" Finn asked her.

"Quarantine," was the answer. "Round up everybody who had contact with Murphy, bring them here."

Finn nodded and he left the room, but Bellamy still looked skeptical. "And everyone they had contact with?"

Isaac raised an eyebrow. "We have to start somewhere," he said, but even he felt the doubt swirling in the pit of his stomach. "And if that's the case, I probably should stay here. I was the first one there, with-" his eyes widened and he felt his muscles tense, fear and panic washing over him like somebody had dumped a bucket of freezing water over his head.