by Kass Morgan
He stood up and walked over to Asher’s grave, running his fingers along the wobbly capital letters carved into the wood. He paused, wondering why they seemed strangely familiar. The writing on all the markers was different, yet he was sure he’d seen block letters like that before.
“Good-bye,” Wells whispered before swinging his pack over his shoulder and stepping into the woods.
He crossed the tree line and took a deep breath of the cool forest air. He was surprisingly calm about setting out on his own, more relaxed in the woods than he’d been all morning at camp. The sound of the wind rustling through the leaves was a welcome change from the malice-tinged whispers.
He’d indulged fleeting fantasies of setting out on his own before, although in those scenarios, Clarke had always been with him. Or, more recently, Sasha. His heart lurched in his chest as he thought about her returning to the camp and finding him gone. What would she think when the others told her that he’d left? Would he ever see her again? And what would happen if his father came down? Would he try to find Wells, or dismiss him as a disgrace?
“Wells,” a voice called out to him through the darkness. He turned and blinked as Kendall’s slim outline appeared in the shadows. “Where are you going?”
“I’m not sure yet. Away.”
“Can I come with you?” she asked with a mix of eagerness and wistfulness that made it clear she already sensed what his answer would be.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said carefully. “You’ll be much safer if you stay with the group.”
Kendall took a few steps closer. Hardly any moonlight filtered through the thick canopy of leaves, yet her large, luminous eyes were looking at him so intently, he almost shivered. “Are you going to find Sasha?”
“No… I have no idea where she went.”
In the darkness, Wells could see Kendall nod. “That’s good. She’s dangerous, you know. Just think what those Earthborns did to Priya.”
“That had nothing to do with Sasha,” Wells said, unsure why he was defending her.
“What kind of person would do that to someone?” Kendall continued, as if she hadn’t heard him. “Hang someone from a tree? Carve a message into her feet? You’d have to really want to make a point.” Her voice had taken on a strange, almost singsong quality, and a chill danced down his spine.
“You can’t trust the Earthborns, remember that.” She took another few steps forward, until she was standing less than a meter away from Wells. “I know she’s pretty, that girl. But she’s not one of us. She doesn’t understand you. She won’t do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
Wells’s breath grew shallow as an icy realization seeped into his brain. That was why the writing on Asher’s grave seemed familiar. The block letters—they looked a lot like the ones carved into Priya’s feet.
What if the Earthborns hadn’t killed her? What if—
“See you,” Kendall said with a smile as she bounded off to camp. Wells froze. Should he go after her? Warn the others? Was the dread in his stomach a real warning, or just paranoia?
A branch snapped up ahead and Wells whipped around, his heart racing. It’s probably just an animal, he thought, wishing that he’d swallowed his pride and asked Bellamy to teach him how to shoot. He hadn’t even brought a spear with him.
But then the shapes ahead resolved into three distinctly human figures. Wells tensed, scanning the ground for something he might be able to use as a weapon. A large stick, or maybe even a rock. He could fight hand to hand if it came down to it—he’d been at the top of his officer training class in combat—but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle all three if they came at him at once.
He found a sharp-looking rock and ducked behind a tree, holding it at the ready. And then, as the strangers moved closer, laughter rang out through the trees.
“Clarke?” he called out in shock, dropping the rock with a thud. The moonlight shimmered on her hair like a halo, illuminating her wide, delighted smile. Bellamy was with her… and was that Octavia?
When they spotted Wells, all three grinned and hurried over to him, talking at once. Slowly, he pieced together what had happened: Octavia’s capture, Bellamy and Clarke’s visit to Mount Weather, and everything Sasha’s father had told them.
Wells’s heart sputtered at the sound of her name. “So, you saw Sasha? Is she okay?”
He and Clarke locked eyes as understanding dawned on her face. She’d always been good at noticing the small details, seeing things before anyone else—it was what made her such a good doctor, he thought. She flashed him a meaningful smile, and Wells knew that she understood what Sasha meant to him, and that she was okay with it. “Sasha’s good,” she said. “She’s going to come visit soon, after she’s had time to convince the rest of the Earthborns that we don’t mean them any harm.” She paused, as if trying to decide how much information was appropriate for her to share. “I think she wants to see you.”
“Are you going somewhere?” Octavia asked, reaching over to tug at Wells’s pack.
Bellamy and Clarke exchanged glances as Wells told them what had happened that morning, how everyone was furious that he’d let Sasha go, how he had decided to leave before they could kick him out.
“That’s ridiculous,” Bellamy said with more indignation than Wells ever thought the Waldenite would muster on his behalf. “You can’t just leave because Graham and a few of the others threw a hissy fit. They need you. We need you.”
“Please, Wells,” Clarke interjected. “Everything’s going to be fine. Especially once we tell them how you were right about Sasha. If you hadn’t let her go, we never would’ve gotten Octavia back.” She shot a glance at the younger girl, who was already setting off down the slope, eager for her big entrance.
“I guess…” He shifted his pack from one shoulder to the other, then turned to Bellamy. “Congratulations, man. I’m really glad you found her. You never gave up on her, and it paid off.” He glanced at Clarke, then back to Bellamy. “I think we all have a lot to learn from you.”
Bellamy shrugged. “I don’t really know how to live any other way. I’ve always been taking care of her. It’s like… we aren’t born for ourselves alone. You have to take care of other people.”
Wells looked up sharply. “What did you just say?” Bellamy had spoken casually, as if that were a phrase that people used all the time. But Wells had never heard anyone say it on Earth. In fact, it had been years since he heard the saying spoken aloud, but that didn’t mean he didn’t think about it every day.
There were some things you never forgot.
CHAPTER 30
Bellamy
Bellamy stared at Wells, wondering if the kid had finally cracked under the pressure. Why was Wells looking at him like that?
Bellamy shrugged. “It’s just something my mom used to say about Octavia and me. How we were lucky to have each other, and how it was my responsibility to take care of her.” He snorted as the bitter memories stirred inside of him. “My responsibility, because she sure as hell wasn’t going to do it.” He fell silent for a moment. “I think it’s something my father used to say, though he used it to explain why he was never able to see us.”
Wells seemed to pale at these words. “Hey… are you okay?” Bellamy asked, shooting a glance at Clarke to see if she’d noticed how strange Wells was behaving. But before she had time to react, Wells continued.
“Was… was your mom’s name Melinda, by any chance?”
The word landed with a thud on Bellamy’s chest. He hadn’t heard anyone say his mother’s name in years. Not since the day the guards came inside their flat and found her lying cold and still on the floor. “How—how did you know that?” Bellamy asked hoarsely, too stunned to inject a note of hostility or suspicion into his voice.
In a strangely calm voice, Wells told Bellamy about his father’s secret past, his affair with the Walden woman and his long-standing commitment to her family. “We live not for ourselves… it’s what my fathe
r always said to justify the sacrifices he had to make, like not spending enough time with me and Mom… or not marrying the woman he loved. But I never knew they had a child together.”
The world around Bellamy seemed to spin, melting into a blur of shadow and starlight as his brain reeled. The only thing that kept him tethered to the ground was the sensation of Clarke’s hand on his arm. The Chancellor—the man who’d been shot because of him—was his father? He couldn’t talk. Couldn’t breathe. But then he felt Clarke’s arm around him, and he took a deep breath. As he exhaled, his surroundings came back into focus. The dark outlines of the trees, the patches of star-filled sky, Clarke’s stunned expression, the nervous face of the kid Bellamy had once thought he hated, but now seemed to be… something else entirely. “So that makes you…”
“Your half brother.” Wells let the final word hang in the air, as if giving both of them time to examine the shape of it before they claimed it for their own. “I guess you and Octavia aren’t the only siblings in the Colony anymore.”
A laugh escaped from Bellamy’s lips before he had time to stop it. “Half brothers,” he repeated. “This is insane.” He shook his head, and with a grin, extended his arm and reached for Wells’s hand. “Brothers.”
CHAPTER 31
Clarke
“Half brothers,” Clarke said for what was probably the twenty-ninth time that night. She reached over and ran a finger along Bellamy’s cheek, as if she might find some sign she’d overlooked that he and Wells were related.
Bellamy smiled as he gently removed her hand, then brought it to his lips to kiss it. “I know it’s hard to believe. I’m just so much better looking.” But then his grin faded. “Does it weird you out?”
Clarke turned to look at Wells and Sasha, who’d returned to camp even earlier than expected. They were sitting on the other side of the campfire, a little apart from the rest of the group. Through the flickering flames, she could see Wells smiling at the Earthborn girl, who seemed to be blushing. A few people were looking at them warily, but now that Octavia was back, it’d been fairly easy to convince the group that she’d been telling the truth about the rogue Earthborns, and most had been quick to forgive Wells for letting her go.
Clarke sighed and rested her head on Bellamy’s shoulder. “The thing is, the fact that you’re related to my ex-boyfriend isn’t even the weirdest thing about you.”
Bellamy wrapped his arm around Clarke’s waist and tickled her stomach. She laughed, and reached around to retaliate, but Bellamy sat up sharp as something on the other side of the fire caught his attention.
“It’s true!” they heard Octavia cry, flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder. She’d spent the past hour regaling the group with tales of her time at Mount Weather.
“And how do we know you didn’t come back to spy on us?” a voice asked. Clarke’s muscles tensed as Graham strode over toward Octavia, the fire casting a flickering light on his smirk.
His voice was a mix of playful condescension and hostility, but Octavia didn’t let that faze her. She tilted her head to the side and gave Graham a searching look from under her dark lashes.
“You might find this hard to believe, Graham, but there are far more interesting things to see on Earth than your little spear collection. If I had to spy on you, I’d fall asleep.”
The people sitting near Octavia laughed, and to Clarke’s surprise, Graham actually smiled, though even in the darkness, she could see it didn’t extend to his eyes. “Oh, trust me, my spears are about as big as anyone can handle,” he protested. Octavia giggled.
“Should I go punch that kid in the face now, or later?” Bellamy growled.
“Later,” Clarke said. “I’m comfortable sitting here.” She’d only joined the group around the fire a few minutes earlier, having spent the past hour in the infirmary cabin, making sure Molly, Felix, and the others were well on their way to recovery as the wintershade left their systems. The look of relief on Eric’s face when Clarke helped Felix to stand for the first time since he’d gotten sick was enough to make Clarke forget that she had walked nearly twenty kilometers in one day.
Clarke shifted so she was leaning against Bellamy. He wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned back, so they were both looking up at the sky. The roar of the fire was enough to muffle the voices of everyone around them, and with their eyes tilted upward, it almost felt like they were the only two people on Earth.
She wondered if her mother and father were looking up at the same sky, feeling the same way. Earlier that day, Bellamy had told her that once Octavia had recovered from her ordeal, they’d both go with Clarke to help her look for her parents. The Griffins had nearly a year’s head start, but it didn’t matter, Bellamy promised. They wouldn’t stop until they found them.
The thought was both thrilling and terrifying, almost too much to wrap her head around. So for the moment, she contented herself with leaning against Bellamy, letting the sound of his steady heartbeat temporarily drown out the rest of her thoughts.
“Look at that,” Bellamy whispered in her ear.
“What?”
He took her hand, gently extended one of her fingers, and pointed it toward a pinpoint of light moving quickly across the sky. “Did you ever make wishes on meteors on Phoenix? Or was that just a Walden thing?” he asked, his breath warm on her skin. “You probably already had everything you wanted.”
“I definitely didn’t have everything I wanted,” Clarke murmured, snuggling against his chest. “Though I think I might be getting close at the moment.”
“So you don’t want to make a wish?”
Clarke looked up again. The speck of light was moving awfully fast, even for a meteor. She sat up a little straighter. “I don’t think that’s a falling star,” she said, unable to keep the note of anxiety out of her voice.
“What do you mean? What else could it be?” But then she felt him grow rigid behind her, a sudden realization settling into his bones. “You don’t think…” He trailed off and tightened his hold around her.
They didn’t have to say it. While the rest of the group sat around the fire in blissful ignorance, Bellamy and Clarke knew the truth. The spot of light wasn’t a star—it was one of the dropships.
The hundred would soon be the hundred no longer.
The rest of the Colony was coming to Earth.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am deeply grateful to everyone at Alloy for being a part of this adventure. I’d never hijack a dropship without any of you.
Huge space hugs to my brilliant editors, the staggeringly clever Joelle Hobeika, and the endlessly creative Katie McGee, for their unfailing dedication to this series. It’s also a great privilege to work with Josh Bank, Sara Shandler, and Les Morgenstein—people whose vision takes storytelling to new heights.
Many thanks to my editor, Elizabeth Bewley, for her keen guidance, and to the publishing wizards at Little, Brown for their hard work and enthusiasm for The 100.
It takes a village to keep an author sane during the writing process, and for that I am eternally indebted to my friends for their unwavering support. Thank you for the coffee, encouraging texts, glamorous viewing parties, and for reminding me to be excited when I could barely remember to do my laundry. And special thanks to my Scholastic colleagues for making the office a constant source of inspiration, wisdom, and bookish mirth.
Above all, I’m grateful to my family. Every word I write is shaped by the stories you gave me, stories tucked into piles of books, shining out from late night movies, and swirled into choruses of raucous laughter. I love you more than all the stars in the galaxy.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Welcome
Dedication
Chapter 2: Clarke
Chapter 3: Glass
Chapter 4: Wells
Chapter 5: Bellamy
Chapter 6: Clarke
Chapter 7: Glass
Chapter 8: Wells
Chapter 9: Clarke
Chapter 10: Bellamy
Chapter 11: Wells
Chapter 12: Glass
Chapter 13: Clarke
Chapter 14: Wells
Chapter 15: Bellamy
Chapter 16: Wells
Chapter 17: Glass
Chapter 18: Clarke
Chapter 19: Bellamy
Chapter 20: Glass
Chapter 21: Wells
Chapter 22: Bellamy
Chapter 23: Clarke
Chapter 24: Wells
Chapter 25: Bellamy
Chapter 26: Glass
Chapter 27: Clarke
Chapter 28: Glass
Chapter 29: Wells
Chapter 30: Bellamy
Chapter 31: Clarke
Acknowledgments
Copyright
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by Alloy Entertainment
Key artwork © 2014 Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Cover design by Liz Dresner
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.