by Kass Morgan
CHAPTER 16
Bellamy
Bellamy wasn’t used to sitting on his ass, doing nothing. He didn’t like feeling helpless. Useless. He was used to fighting for the things he needed—food, safety, his sister, life itself—and having to depend on other people drove him crazy. Yet that tendency was what got him into this mess in the first place. If he hadn’t been in such a rush to get on the dropship with Octavia, the Chancellor—his father—never would’ve been shot. And then a few weeks later, Bellamy could’ve come down with the second wave of Colonists, as a citizen instead of a condemned prisoner.
He sat on a wooden bench on the village green, a small grassy area in the center of Sasha and Max’s town. He watched a group of kids a few years his junior walk by on their way to the schoolhouse. Three boys punched each other on the shoulders. He could hear their teasing tone. One took off running, and the other two chased him, laughing. An older boy and girl held hands, drawing out their good-bye, sharing a private joke and a blush-inducing kiss.
But then again, he’d had no idea that the Colony was running out of oxygen and that they’d been weeks away from an emergency evacuation. And it’s not like some nineteen-year-old nobody from Walden would’ve been first in line for a spot on the dropship. Forcing his way to Earth had been the right decision. He’d been able to keep an eye on Octavia. And he’d met a beautiful, intense, intimidatingly smart girl who made him start and end every day with the same goofy grin on his face. That is, when she wasn’t driving him totally crazy.
He lifted his head and looked around for Clarke, who’d been asked to examine a kid’s broken arm. Under other circumstances, staying in this town wouldn’t suck. It was both orderly and relaxed. Everyone had a place to live and enough to eat, and there were no power-tripping guards running around, scrutinizing everyone’s movements. Sasha’s father was clearly in charge, but he wasn’t like Rhodes, or even like the Chancellor. He listened closely to his advisors, and from what Bellamy could tell, most important decisions were put to a vote. The other bonus was that here no one even thought it was weird that he had a sister—they all had siblings, lots of them.
Yet the peacefulness had an ominous quality in light of recent events. What if Rhodes came after them? What if Bellamy accidentally turned the Earthborns’ quiet village into some kind of war zone? He’d never forgive himself if innocent people got hurt because of him.
Bellamy bounced his leg nervously. His stomach had been in knots since they’d arrived here three days ago. He didn’t know what to do. Max, Sasha, and their people wanted him to stay. They wanted to protect him. And it wasn’t all that bad, staying in a place with a real roof over his head and delicious food that he hadn’t had to track, kill, and skin himself. Bellamy couldn’t deny it: A little kernel in his chest longed for a life this simple. He wanted Rhodes to forget about him, for his past to go away, for his life to be as easy as it was for those kids.
He scanned the tree line and the path leading into town, searching for signs of intruders. Nothing. He’d hardly been able to sleep since he got here. He was too busy straining his ears in the overnight quiet, listening for the sound of approaching footsteps, the rustle of leaves that would tell him they were about to be attacked—that he was about to be taken.
This was no way to live. The anticipation and dread were getting to him, and even the little town was starting to feel like a prison. Since he’d been on Earth, Bellamy had gotten used to spending hours of every day out in the woods by himself. Being confined to the village was certainly better than being stuck on a ship in space, but still.
He leaned back against the bench with a sigh and looked up at the blue expanse above. What the hell was he going to do all day? He couldn’t hunt; he couldn’t even wander off by himself. The kids were in school, so he couldn’t play ball with them. Everyone else had something to do. He looked around at the people busily going about their tasks—building, fixing, washing, tending to the animals, and so on. And they were all so pleasant; it made him kind of uncomfortable. Every single person he passed wished him a good day. He didn’t know what to say or do with his face—was he supposed to smile back? Say hi? Or just nod?
At least he knew Octavia was okay. Sasha had been back to the camp twice to check on her from afar and had gotten a message to Octavia letting her know that Bellamy was safe. For whatever reason, Rhodes had chosen not to take out his vengeance on Octavia, at least not yet. There was only so long Bellamy was willing to stay away from her, though. He couldn’t rely on Rhodes’s goodwill, if that’s what it was, for long.
“Morning.” Max had approached without Bellamy realizing it.
“Morning,” Bellamy replied, happy to be shaken from his miserable thoughts.
“May I join you?”
“Sure.” Bellamy scooted over, and Max dropped onto the bench next to him. Steam rose from a metal cup in his hand. They sat in silence for a long moment, watching the last of the children running late into school.
“How’s the shoulder?” Max asked.
“Better. Thanks for giving Clarke all that stuff to use. I know it’s pretty valuable, and you’ve done so much for us already.” He paused, wondering if it were noble or foolish to share his concerns about sticking around. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to stay here, though.”
“Where do you plan to go?” Max didn’t sound surprised, and Bellamy appreciated the lack of judgment in his tone.
“I haven’t figured that part out yet. All I know is that I can’t just sit here and wait for them to come get me, and I can’t let anyone here risk getting hurt for me.”
“I understand how you must feel, knowing that there are people out there who want to harm you. But they don’t have the right to take your life, Bellamy. No one does.” Max paused. “And no one here is doing anything they don’t want to do. The truth is, I don’t think you’re any safer out there,” Max went on, tipping his head toward the woods. “There are greater dangers than Rhodes. I’m not sure how much you know about the others?” Max raised his eyebrows. “The people from our group who left us.”
“A little.” The last time he’d been here, when he’d come to rescue Octavia, Bellamy had heard the story about the Colonists who’d come down from the ship, way before the hundred had arrived. The Earthborns had taken them in, shared their food, but not everyone had been happy about welcoming the strangers, especially since the strangers were the descendants of the people who’d fled the dying Earth in a spaceship, leaving everyone else to perish.
The two groups had established an uneasy peace, but then something happened. An Earthborn child died, and chaos broke out. There was a faction of Max’s people who blamed the Colonists, and who blamed Max for letting strangers into their home. They demanded retribution, and when Max refused to let them kill the Colonists, they split off to live on their own, outside of Max’s authority.
The craziest part of the whole story was that Clarke’s parents—who she had thought were dead, sentenced to floating from the Colony—had been among that first wave of Colonists. They had been banished along with the others after the child’s death.
Max took another sip of his drink. “I grew up with them. We raised our children together, I thought I knew them.” He paused for a moment, as if letting the memories play out in his mind before continuing. “But now they’ve become unrecognizable. They’ve become obsessed with violence and claiming as much land as possible as their own. They’re angry, and they have nothing to lose. Which makes them very, very dangerous.”
“What do they want?” Bellamy asked, not even sure he wanted to know the answer.
“I wish I knew.” Max sighed and ran a hand along his gray beard. “Revenge? Power? What could they want that we didn’t have right here?”
They were silent for a moment.
“Clarke wants to go find her parents,” Bellamy said.
“I know she does. But it’s not safe. If the splinter group is willing to hurt their own neighbors and friends, the
y certainly won’t hesitate to hurt Clarke. And if they find out that she is their daughter—well, I’d hate to think of what they might do. The Griffins had nothing to do with the boy’s death, but these aren’t rational people we’re talking about here.” Max turned and locked eyes with Bellamy. “Do you think she understands the risks?”
Bellamy shook his head. “I don’t know. But she’s not going to stay here and wait around forever. She wants to find her mom and dad. Soon. I tried to convince her to wait until it’s safe for me to go with her. We need to find out more about where they might have gone. But she’s determined.”
“I don’t blame her.” Max sighed. “I’d want to find them too.”
“Yeah.” Bellamy knew what it was like to feel a desperate, primal urge to find someone you love. He got why Clarke wanted to start tracking her parents. But was he willing to let her die for it?
Bellamy’s thoughts were interrupted as a man raced toward them.
“Max,” the man said breathlessly, coming to a sudden halt in front of their bench. “There’s a group approaching the town. They’re about a hundred meters out. They’ll be here in a few minutes. And—Max—they’re armed.”
Bellamy’s heart leapt into his throat as a wave of guilt crashed over him. They’re here for me.
Max jumped to his feet. “Send out the signal. And dispatch a group to meet them and bring them in. Peacefully.” The man nodded and ran off. Max turned back to Bellamy. “Follow me.”
Bellamy tried to remain calm, but a surge of anger and fear welled up inside of him, the same combination of feelings that generally prompted him to do something stupid. He trailed Max closely as they jogged down the path and toward the town’s main hall, where people were already gathering, many bearing guns and spears. Clarke, Wells, and Sasha ran inside a few minutes later, looking anxious but determined. Sasha joined her father at the front of the room, while Wells and Clarke wended their way through the crowd to stand with Bellamy at the back.
“Don’t worry,” Wells said to Bellamy as the crowd chattered anxiously all around them. “We’re not going to let them take you.”
But that wasn’t what Bellamy was worried about, not really. He was more worried about what would happen when the Earthborns refused to hand him over—what Rhodes would do if he didn’t get his way.
Max raised a hand, and the room fell silent.
“As most of you know, we have some visitors coming,” he called out, his voice commanding but calm. “They’re being brought in now. We will meet with them, hear what they want, and then we will decide what to do.”
A tide of murmurs and muffled questions rose up from the crowd. Max held up his hand again, and everyone quieted down. “I know you have a lot of questions. I do too. But let’s start by listening. Remember, there is no peace without peaceful exchange.”
A tense silence settled over the room. A few minutes later, a handful of Earthborns led in a group of Rhodes’s guards. They had been relieved of their weapons but not restrained in any way.
“Welcome,” Max said. The guards were stony-faced and silent, their eyes darting around the room, strategizing and assessing. “Please make yourselves comfortable and tell us why you’ve come.”
The guards exchanged glances. The eldest, a middle-aged man named Burnett who Bellamy recognized from the prison cabin, stepped forward.
“We are not here to harm your people,” Burnett said in the same cold, flat voice Bellamy had heard countless guards use before dragging someone off to Confinement, making them disappear forever. He scanned the room until his eyes landed on Bellamy. Every muscle in Bellamy’s body tensed up, and he had to fight the urge to bolt to the front of the hall and wrap his hands around Burnett’s thick neck. “We are under orders to collect our prisoner, that’s all. You are harboring a fugitive, who must answer for his crimes. Hand him over, and we’ll leave you in peace.”
Clarke grabbed Bellamy’s hand and held it tight. He knew she’d do anything to keep him safe, but at this point, all he wanted to do was spare her any more pain.
Max surveyed Burnett carefully, pausing before he spoke. “My friend, I appreciate that you have come here under orders. And it is not our intention to cause trouble in any way.” Max shot Bellamy a look over the sea of heads that separated them, his expression unreadable. “But it’s my understanding that the prisoner, as you call him, will not be receiving any sort of just sentence. If he returns to your camp, he will be executed.”
A sea of shocked gasps and whispers rippled over the crowd. An Earthborn woman near Clarke and Bellamy turned to stare at them, taking in their frightened expressions and clasped hands, and her expression changed from confusion to resolve. Three men who’d been standing near Bellamy’s side exchanged glances, then took a few steps so they were standing between Bellamy and the guards. “And we are not in the business of sending young men to their deaths,” Max finished.
Burnett shot an amused look at one of the other guards, and a small smile crept across his face. “It wasn’t a request,” he said. “You understand that there will be consequences to your refusal, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Max replied calmly, though his eyes had grown cold. “You’ve made yourself very clear.” He turned toward the other Earthborns. “I believe I can speak for everyone here when I say that we will not be accomplices to this unjust punishment. But I will allow them to decide.”
There was a long pause. Bellamy felt suddenly queasy as he looked around at the faces of these people—these strangers—who held his fate in their hands. Was it fair to make them decide—to ask them to put their own safety on the line to protect him?
He was steeling himself to rise and surrender himself to Rhodes when Max cleared his throat. “All those in favor of letting our visitors take the boy with him, please raise your hands.”
One of the guards smirked, while the man next to him cracked his knuckles. They were clearly relishing this, eager to watch the Earthborns relinquish Bellamy to his grim fate.
But to Bellamy’s shock, no one raised their arm. “What the…” he whispered as Clarke squeezed his hand.
“All in favor of letting Bellamy, Clarke, and Wells stay here, under our protection?”
Countless hands shot into the air, blocking Max, Burnett, and the other guards from view. Bellamy’s knees began to buckle as an overwhelming tide of gratitude rose within him. The adults back at the Colony had never offered Bellamy so much as a crumb of kindness. Never, not even when he and Octavia were practically starving. But these people were willing to risk everything for him—a total stranger.
That’s what made it worse. These were good people. They didn’t deserve to die for some kid who’d spent nineteen years making nothing but terrible decisions.
Clarke slid her arm around his waist and leaned into him, helping to support his weight.
“It’s okay,” she whispered into his ear.
“No,” Bellamy said under his breath, as much to himself as to her. Then, “No,” he called out, louder. No one heard him over the clamor in the room. Except Clarke and Wells. Clarke’s hand fell away from him, and she and Wells stared at him in confusion.
“Bellamy!” Clarke said, her eyes wide. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t just stand here and let all these innocent people put their asses on the line for me. They have kids; they have families. They don’t need this shit.”
Wells stepped forward and put a firm hand on Bellamy’s shoulder. “Hey,” he said. “Hey, just relax.” Bellamy tried to shake free of Wells’s grasp, but Wells wouldn’t let him. “Bellamy, I get it. You’re not used to accepting help. But this isn’t Confinement for selling stolen goods at the Exchange. This is the death penalty. Rhodes is going to kill you.”
Bellamy leaned over and put his hands on his knees. He took a few deep, steadying breaths. He knew that Max and Sasha’s people believed in something bigger than themselves. He had seen it in their kindness toward each other, in the way they welcomed three stran
gers into their lives. He had seen it in Max’s leadership. But he didn’t know how he could ever bear the burden of their generosity.
Clarke took Bellamy’s hand again and looked into his eyes. “Even if you won’t do it for you, will you do it for me? Please?” Her voice was trembling, and something in Bellamy’s chest shifted. He’d never heard her sound so vulnerable, so scared. He’d never heard her beg anyone for anything. Anything she wanted, she went after herself. But that wouldn’t be enough this time. She needed help.
“And for me.” Wells clapped his hand on Bellamy’s good shoulder.
Bellamy turned from Clarke to Wells. How had this happened? When he and Octavia had left the Colony, it’d been them against the universe. And now he had people who cared about him. He had a family.
“Okay,” he said with a nod, fighting back the tears threatening to make an appearance. He forced a smile. “But just this one time. Next time I’m sentenced to death for being a hotheaded idiot, you have to let them take me.”
“Deal,” Wells said, stepping back with a grin.
“No way. You’re my hotheaded idiot.” Clarke rose onto her toes and kissed him. Bellamy wrapped his arm around her and kissed her back, too moved to be embarrassed by the prickle of tears in his eyes.
CHAPTER 17
Glass
Glass shoved the cabin door open with her shoulder. Both her hands were full, one with a bucket of water from the river, the other with a sack of berries she’d found growing nearby. She dropped the food on the uneven wooden table and carried the water over to the basin. Without having to think about it, Glass reached up and took down a small bowl from the shelf. After just two days, she was already so comfortable in their little house that it felt as if she and Luke had been settled there forever.
Their first morning in the cabin, they had stepped outside cautiously, scanning for signs of Earthborns. But there was no hint of any other human life. Slowly their comfort and confidence grew, and they trekked a few meters away in an attempt to find food.