DISCORDIA

[ 36 ] drawn quartered

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       DRAWN QUARTERED

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       AFTER ABOUT TWENTY MINUTES of walking, Finn finally brought them to a halt. There was a metal hatch in the middle of the path and Jinny went forwards to pull it open with a low creak. She gestured for Bellamy and Finn to bring their prisoner in, then waited for the others to climb down the ladder before following. There was a faint smell of vanilla masking the underlying mildew in the bunker, mixed with the scent of smoke from various candles that Finn was already lighting around the room. Jinny looked around the shelter in awe, taking in the various shelves stocked with jars and supplies. There was even a bed, dining table and kitchenette lining the right side of the room. It could have accommodated two people comfortably, but for how long?

       She picked up a little metallic figure of what resembled a deer, sitting on top of some sketching paper and pencils. Her fingers traced the expertly hand drawn portraits of various animals and flowers. At the very bottom of the pile, she caught sight of long dark hair and the angle of a square jaw just visible of the paper's edge.

       "Art supply store," she mumbled. Finn looked at her, having heard it, and she glanced back to him. "I remember Clarke mentioning it before."

       "How long do we have to wait?" Murphy asked as he sat on a chair and looked down at the Grounder on the floor.

       "As long as it takes," Bellamy answered, grabbing some wires from a bucket. He used them to tie the Grounder's hands together behind the back.

       "And how are we gonna do this?" Murphy continued to question.

       Bellamy glanced at Jinny as she was inspecting the inventory nearby, pulling out plastic containers and taking whiffs from the contents of old mason jars. "Jin's gonna do what she does best."

       "Making your life a living hell?" she asked, turning around to grin at him.

       "No, the other one," he replied.

       "Making other people's lives a living hell?" Her grin turned into a sly smirk.

       "How do you put up with her?" Murphy asked incredulously.

       Bellamy shivered suddenly. "I just had a rush of déjà vu."

       He walked over and started to rummage around the junk surrounding the room with Jinny, finding a few boxes of matches that he pocketed. Monroe and Sterling were sitting on the couch with their eyes closed and heads leaning against the wall in rest. Finn was brooding in the opposite corner, his dark eyes boring holes into the Grounder's impervious head as his thumb stroked the face of Clarke's watch.

       "We can't wait for him to wake up," he said after a while.

       "It's not like we can ask him politely," Murphy replied with a snort.

       "The longer we sit here, Clarke and the others could be running out of time," Finn told them agitatedly.

       "What do you want us to do, Finn?" Bellamy asked. "Hit him over the head again?"

       "Ooh, looks like we might not have to wait," Jinny said, grabbing a small vial from a shelf and holding it up for them to view. "Smelling salts."

       She went to the Grounder and uncorked the vial, waving it underneath the man's nose. Almost immediately, he jerked awake and gazed blearily around at them. Jinny took a step back, closing the small tube and slipping it into her pocket. "Good morning. Now tell us where our friends are," she demanded.