by Kass Morgan
Glass looked down at Luke, whose chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. No matter how scared she was, no matter whether they made it back to camp or not, they were lucky to be alive right then, right there. That moment was all they had. If they wanted more, then she was going to have to fight for it—for both of them. She squatted down and slipped the rope over her shoulders again, a renewed energy coursing through her body.
They had to get back to safety. There was no way she was giving up now.
Glass pushed her way through a particularly thick copse of trees, then saw something that made her stomach flip. It was a lake. But could it be…? Surely all lakes on Earth looked somewhat similar. Suddenly, in the distance, she saw it. The remains of the charred dropships.
Glass let out a whoop and would’ve jumped up and down if she hadn’t been bone-tired. She was almost there. She couldn’t be more than a few miles from the camp. But as she stared up the steep incline on the far side of the lake, her heart sank. It would take hours to drag Luke around the water and back up to camp. Would he even make it that long? If not, she could only hope that her own body would quickly succumb to grief. She’d rather lie with Luke, still and peaceful in the forest forever, than spend the rest of her life with an even heavier burden than the sled—the weight of a broken heart.
CHAPTER 25
Wells
Wells stumbled into camp behind Clarke and Bellamy. His hands were numb from the cuffs that bound them behind his back, and his face stung from the branches and thorns that had scratched him as they trekked through the woods.
They stood outside the prison cabin. One of the guards removed the fabric gags from their mouths. Wells moved his jaw in a slow circle and opened and shut his mouth a few times, trying to regain sensation.
“Wait here,” the guard ordered. He scuttled inside while another man posted by the front door kept an eye on them. Wells, Bellamy, and Clarke all took the opportunity to look around. The camp sprawled out before them, and Wells could tell at a glance that it wasn’t the same place they’d left behind just a few days before. One look at Bellamy and Clarke’s wide eyes told him they saw it too.
Although it couldn’t have been much later than eight or nine at night, the camp was ominously quiet, except for the sounds of footsteps on the dusty ground and logs clattering on the pile. Two kids carrying firewood toward the pit wore tense, pained expressions. A boy hauling a water bucket looked near tears. A group of adults sat silently together by the fire, shooting nervous glances at the trees. No one spoke. No one laughed or gave one another a hard time. No one smiled. It was as if all the energy and camaraderie—all the life—had been sucked from the very air.
A breeze swept through the trees, and a putrid smell wafted into Wells’s nostrils. He suppressed his gag reflex, and he saw Clarke and Bellamy doing the same. Wells looked around and took a few steps toward the tree line. Sure enough, a rancid pile of animal skins, bones, and organs lay on the ground, covered in flies and slowly rotting. It was disgusting—and unsafe. Not only would the odor attract predatory animals, but the bacteria growing in that pile would be enough to sicken everyone in camp.
“What the hell…” Bellamy said hoarsely. At first, Wells assumed he was looking at the animals as well, but when he turned his head, he saw that Bellamy’s eyes were fixed on something else in the distance. A group of the original hundred were hard at work on a new cabin; he could hear their low grunts as they struggled to place an enormous log at the top of the growing wall. A few adults stood to the side, holding torches to illuminate the site, suggesting that they were planning to work long into the night.
That wasn’t remarkable in itself. With so many people crammed into the camp, it made sense to build new structures as quickly as possible. But then the moon slid out from behind a cloud, and Wells finally saw what had caught Bellamy’s attention.
As the moonlight shined down on the half-completed cabin, it glinted on their friends’ wrists, reflecting off something metallic. “No,” Wells breathed, blinking rapidly, unable to believe his eyes.
Each of them had a thick metal band clasped tightly around one wrist.
“This is madness,” Clarke said, a note of confusion in her voice, as if her scientist brain didn’t trust the image being transmitted through her eyes.
When they’d been taken from their cells in the detention center, each member of the hundred had been fitted with a tracking device. Ostensibly, they were meant to transmit vital signs back to the Colony, to let the Council know whether Earth was indeed survivable, or if their test subjects were slowly succumbing to radiation poisoning. However, within their first few days on Earth, most of them had either removed the bracelets or purposely damaged them beyond repair.
“Do you think Rhodes brought them down to Earth with him?” Wells asked.
“He must have,” Clarke said. “But why? It’s not like he has the technology to actually track any of them.”
Bellamy snorted. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Who knows what he brought on that dropship with him?”
“So… they’re prisoners again?” Clarke said, her voice disbelieving.
“So much for our ‘contribution’ and ‘sacrifice’,” Bellamy said, his voice thick with bitterness.
A few moments later, Wells, Bellamy, and Clarke were all yanked roughly into a line, standing shoulder to shoulder, with a guard behind each of them. Wells clenched his teeth as Vice Chancellor Rhodes approached, flanked by two armed guards of his own.
“Welcome back. I hope you three enjoyed your little holiday.”
“I see you’ve been busy making my friends play dress up,” Bellamy said with a sneer. “That’s quite the collection of bracelets you brought with you.”
Rhodes made a show of looking behind him. The kids who’d been busy building the cabin had stopped what they were doing and were staring at the prisoners in wide-eyed horror. Molly lowered her hammer and took a few steps forward, staring at Wells. Even from a distance, he could tell it was taking all her self-control not to run to him. He shook his head slightly, warning her against it.
“Ah, yes,” Rhodes said. “I do have a few extras, but it seems like a waste to give them to people who’ll soon have nowhere to wear them.”
“Really?” Bellamy managed one of his signature smirks. “Because I heard my trial is going to be the social event of the season.”
“Trial?” Rhodes repeated. “I’m afraid you must be mistaken. There’s not going to be a trial… for any of you. I’ve already found all three of you guilty. Your executions are scheduled for dawn.” He made a show of looking up at the sky. “Though, that does seem like a rather long time to wait. If any of you are in a rush, I’d be happy to expedite the proceedings.”
Wells’s heart froze in his chest, like an animal that’d just caught sight of the hunter’s drawn bow. What was Rhodes talking about? They hadn’t done anything meriting execution.
But before he could say anything, Bellamy made a sound that was half-shout, half-moan. “What the hell are you talking about? They didn’t do anything. I’m the one you wanted. I’m the one you need to kill.”
“They aided and abetted a fugitive. The punishment for that is perfectly clear in the Gaia Doctrine.”
“Fuck the Gaia Doctrine,” Bellamy spat. “We’re on Earth, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“I see no reason to abandon the guidelines that have allowed humanity to flourish for centuries just because we’re on the ground.”
Wells had never felt such raw, pure loathing for anyone, or anything, in his entire life. “That’s not what my father would say, and you know it.”
Rhodes narrowed his eyes. “Your father isn’t here, Wells. And in case you were too busy seducing other little criminals”—he shot a glance at Clarke—“to pay attention during your civics tutorial, the Chancellor’s son doesn’t factor into the chain of command. I’m in charge, and I’ve sentenced the three of you to die by firing squad at first light.”
Wells
heard Clarke gasp next to him, and his whole body went numb. He waited for another surge of fear or anger to kick in, but neither came. Perhaps there was a part of him that had expected this to happen. Perhaps there was a part of him that knew he deserved it. Even if Rhodes had no idea what Wells had done back on the ship, Wells was the reason their friends, their neighbors, were all slowly dying of oxygen deprivation. At least this way, he’d never have to face what he did. He wouldn’t have to look up every night, trying to picture the ship that would soon be filled with silent, still bodies.
“Oh my god, Bellamy!” The sound of Octavia’s voice pulled Wells back. She was running toward them, her face streaked with dirt and tears. Two guards stepped in front of her, blocking her path and holding her back. She fought against them but couldn’t get through. Bellamy called her name and lunged toward her, but a guard jabbed a gun to his ribs and he keeled over. “Stop it,” Octavia sobbed. “Let them go, please.”
“It’s okay, O,” Bellamy said hoarsely, struggling to catch his breath. “I’m okay.”
“No. I’m not going to let them do this to you.”
Other people had begun to gather around them. Lila walked up next to Octavia, and for a moment, Wells thought she was going to pull her away, but instead she put her arm around the younger girl and glared at the guards defiantly. She was joined by Antonio, Dmitri, then Tamsin and others. Even Graham came over to stand among them. Soon, there were nearly fifty people standing in a large semicircle around the prison cabin.
“Everyone, back up,” Rhodes commanded. When no one moved, he signaled to the guards who stepped menacingly toward the crowd. “I said move.”
But no one retreated. Not even when the guards raised their guns to their shoulders, half of them aiming at the prisoners, half out into the crowd. Some of the younger ones looked nervous, but most of them were staring at Wells, Bellamy, and Clarke with a mixture of rebellion and something else. Something like hope.
No matter how this ended, they needed to see how a real leader bore defeat. Wells would be honored to sacrifice himself if it meant no one else got hurt, and he certainly wasn’t going to face death like a coward. Wells turned back to Rhodes, raised his chin, and fixed the hateful man with his stare.
Bellamy moved even closer to Wells and stood shoulder to shoulder with him. Wells could tell by the set of Bellamy’s jaw that he was thinking the same thing. Clarke moved next to Bellamy, and the three of them stared down the Vice Chancellor together. Wells pushed away an image of the three of them lying bloodied on the ground, taking their last breaths in unison. Bellamy and Clarke both looked at him. Bellamy’s muscles were tensed, his body charged with energy. He was the embodiment of a resolve and strength Wells had never seen before. Clarke’s eyes were practically alight with emotion. They were filled with a fierceness and determination that stunned him.
“Okay, get moving,” a guard said. Someone reached from behind and tied a blindfold around him. Guards grabbed on to Wells’s arm and began to drag him away.
“Where are you taking me?” Wells grunted, digging his heels into the ground. With the blindfold covering his eyes, he focused as hard as he could on what he could hear, but the grunts and shuffling sounds told him nothing about what was happening to Clarke or Bellamy.
Wells struggled against his captors, but there was nothing he could do. He gritted his teeth and fought against the panic flooding his body. At least the last thing he’d seen were Clarke’s and Bellamy’s brave faces—that would be enough to get him through the next few hours. Wells knew he’d set sight on Earth for the last time.
By the time they removed the blindfold, there would be a bullet in his brain.
CHAPTER 26
Bellamy
There was no way to know if Rhodes had waited until dawn to send for them. With the blindfold on, Bellamy couldn’t tell if the sun had risen, though by the scent of dew clinging to the grass, his guess was that it was still dark out. Apparently, Bellamy had already seen his last sunrise. By the time the sky turned pink, he would be dead. All three of them would.
Bellamy had spent a hellish, agonizing night straining his ears for any sign of Clarke, who’d been locked away somewhere else. He wasn’t sure what would be worse: listening to her scream in pain or cry out in despair, or hearing nothing but silence and wondering whether she was already gone.
The quiet had turned out to be unbearable, as Bellamy’s brain filled it with horrific sounds of its own: Clarke sobbing as she felt her last hours slip away, knowing that she’d never set eyes on her parents again. The sound of a gunshot ripping through the silence, tearing apart Bellamy’s heart.
With a guard on either side of him, Bellamy was marched to what he assumed was the center of the clearing and pushed up with his back against a tree. A tiny, twisted part of him almost had to laugh. After all the near misses he’d had in his life, all the rules he’d broken, this was how it was going to end. He should have guessed it’d be something dramatic, like a public execution on a dangerous planet. Nothing boring for him. His only regret was that Octavia would have to see this. It was hard enough to think she’d have to go on without him, but she had proven her grit in the last few weeks. He knew deep down she could take care of herself now. No, mostly it was that she would have to watch. Bellamy could hear the guards moving through the camp, dragging everyone—adults and kids—out of their cabins to witness what Rhodes probably viewed as the most momentous event on Earth in three hundred years. The moment order would be restored to the wild, untamed planet.
It was monstrous. No one should have to see this, his sister least of all. He only hoped that his unbowed head would make his sister proud of him. He wanted to show her how to live, even after he was gone.
Bellamy wished he could reach out and grab Clarke’s hand. Why hadn’t they brought her out yet? Had something happened? Or was she silent, her heart in her throat as she struggled against the ropes? He couldn’t believe this beautiful, brilliant girl was about to be executed. It was inconceivable to think that someone so full of life, whose green eyes lit up in wonder every time she spotted a new plant, who went days without sleeping in order to care for her patients, was about to be shut off like a piece of machinery.
“Clarke!” he shouted, unable to contain himself any longer. “Where are you?” All he could hear was the anxious whispering of the crowd. “Clarke!” he screamed again, his voice echoing throughout the clearing, but not loud enough to reach her if she’d already…
“Calm down, Mr. Blake,” Rhodes commanded, as if Bellamy were an overexcited child instead of a condemned prisoner moments away from death. “I’ve decided to show your friends mercy. Neither Officer Jaha nor Ms. Griffin is going to die today.”
A sliver of hope pierced the dread that had been building in his chest, allowing him to take his first real breath since leaving the cabin. “Prove it to me,” he said hoarsely. “Let me see them.”
Rhodes must’ve nodded, because a moment later, someone was fumbling with Bellamy’s blindfold.
He blinked as the world came back into focus. A line of guards stood about ten meters in front of him. The entire camp was gathered behind them, with Wells, Octavia, and Clarke in the front. They’re still alive. Relief poured through him. That was all that mattered. He didn’t care what happened to him anymore as long as they were safe.
Wells and Clarke still had their hands bound, but Octavia was struggling against the guards holding her. “Bellamy!” she shrieked.
He met her eyes and shook his head. No, he communicated silently with a sad smile. There was nothing she could do now. She stared at him, her big blue eyes filled with panic and tears.
I love you, he mouthed. It’s going to be okay.
Through her sobs, Octavia managed to force a smile. “I love you. I love you…” But then her face crumpled, and she turned away. Graham said something to the guard, and he released Octavia’s arms, letting Graham hold on to her instead. But even from a distance, it was clear he was being gent
le. He even wrapped his arm around her, shielding her from the horror that was about to take place before her eyes.
“Guards, at the ready!” Rhodes shouted.
Bellamy turned to Clarke. Unlike his sister, she’d refused to look away and was staring at Bellamy so intensely, for a flickering moment, he felt the rest of the world melt away. It was only him and Clarke, just like it’d been when they first kissed or that magical night in the woods when Bellamy had felt that Earth was far closer to the heavens than the Colony had ever been.
Just look at me, he could feel her saying to him. Just look at me, and it’ll all be okay.
Sweat was pouring down his face, but he didn’t look away from her. Not even when the guards cocked their guns, and his heart began beating so fast, he was sure it’d explode before the first bullet.
Just look at me.
He tilted his chin higher and clenched his fists, inhaling sharply through his nose. It would happen any second now. He tried to slow down time for a moment. He deepened his breathing and willed his heart rate into a steadier rhythm. He inhaled the scents of camp and Earth: cold ashes, wet dirt, crushed leaves, and air—the crisp, clean, delicious scent of the very air they were breathing at that moment. He’d had the chance to be here, and that was enough.