“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Clarke asked quietly. “You were shot, Bel. You have a long way to go before you’re fully recovered.”
“Save your breath, Griffin,” he said as he began rooting around for arrows. “You know there’s no way in hell I’m letting these people risk their lives for me while I sit around twiddling my thumbs.”
“Just be careful.” Her face was pale, and her eyes were red. In the few minutes they’d had together, preparing for the fight, she’d told him about speaking to her parents. But there was no time to celebrate that small miracle; they both had to focus their attention on the task at hand—making Vice Chancellor Rhodes regret he’d ever set foot on Earth.
“Careful is my middle name,” he said, placing a few arrows that had passed his inspection to the side.
She smiled. “I believe you’ve also said the same thing about Danger and Victory.”
“That’s me. Bellamy Careful Danger Victory Blake.”
“I’m jealous. I don’t even have one middle name.”
“Oh, I can think of a few that would suit you,” Bellamy said, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Let’s see, how about Clarke Know-It-All… Bossy…” She rolled her eyes and smacked him playfully on the chest. He smirked and pulled her closer, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “… Brilliant… Sexy Griffin.”
“I’m not sure all that will fit on an office door, but I like it.”
“Everybody ready?” Wells asked, striding toward them. His whole demeanor had changed. Although he was only wearing a faded, stained T-shirt, and ripped, slightly too-short pants, he moved like he was still wearing his officer’s uniform. A few weeks ago, Wells’s bearing might’ve irritated Bellamy, but right now, he felt grateful that his brother was so capable.
“I’m more than ready,” Bellamy said, trying to psych everyone up. He reached over to bump fists with Felix, who was pale and shifting from side to side nervously. “I can’t wait to kick some Colony-Guard ass.” Bellamy shot Wells a devilish grin.
“I wish I had your confidence,” Felix said.
“It’s not confidence,” Bellamy quipped. “It’s arrogance. There’s a big difference.”
“Whatever it is, it’s a good thing,” said Wells to Bellamy’s surprise. “We’re going to need it.”
At Max’s nod, Wells stepped to the front of the room, which quickly fell silent, although the tension was so thick, the air practically buzzed with it.
“Friends,” Max began, his tone grave. “We have news that there are about two dozen Colonists approaching Mount Weather. In just a moment, we will go to our appointed positions and prepare to fight. They have arrived much more quickly than we expected them to, but rest assured, we’ll meet them with all our might. And remember: Our goal is not to inflict harm, but to prevent them from committing senseless acts of violence against others. If we need to use strength to protect ourselves, then so be it. But that is not our purpose.”
He turned to nod at Wells, who cleared his throat as he prepared to address the crowd. “As we expected, they’re carrying guns… lots of them, so be careful and don’t take any unnecessary risks. But although they might have firearms, they’re not infallible.” He went on to explain a little about how the guards trained, the formations they used, and the tactics they were most likely to employ—it was a good thing they had insider information from Wells’s days as an officer, Bellamy realized.
“The thing to remember,” Max said, “is that we’re not just fighting to protect these young people who’ve turned to us for help, we’re fighting to protect our way of life. We’ve tried to reason with our new neighbors, but it’s become increasingly clear that peace and cooperation is not their priority. If we don’t deal with them now, there’s no knowing what they’ll try next time.” He paused, scanning the room. “I’ve already lost my daughter… I couldn’t bear to lose any of you.” He took a breath, and a new fierceness crept into his voice. “Our people have struggled against enormous odds, but we have persevered. Others might’ve left Earth to burn, but we stayed behind and fought to keep it our home.”
A few shouts rose up from the crowd, and Max smiled.
“This is our land, our planet, and now’s the time to decide how much we’re willing to risk to protect it.”
Wells grinned and reached to shake Max’s hand. The older man clasped it in his, then pulled Wells toward him and clapped him on the back.
“Is everyone ready?” Wells asked, turning back to the crowd.
A battle cry shook the rough stone walls as everyone raised their fists in the air and gathered up their spears, arrows, and knives. They headed for the exits, growing silent as they slipped outside and took their positions in the darkened woods just outside Mount Weather.
Clarke slung a bag full of medical supplies over her shoulder and reached for a long knife. “Where are you going?” Bellamy asked, his excitement giving way to cold fear.
She raised her chin and gave him her most determined stare. “People are going to get hurt out there. They need me.”
Bellamy opened his mouth to protest but shut it when he realized how selfish that would be. Clarke was right. As the person with the most medical experience, it made perfect sense for her to be on the ground. “Just be really, really careful, okay?” he said. She nodded. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
Bellamy put his hand under her chin and tipped her face up to his. “Clarke, whatever happens, I just want you to know—”
She shook her head and cut him off with a kiss. “Don’t,” she said. “We’re going to be fine.”
He smiled at her. “You’re getting the hang of this arrogance thing.”
“I learned from the best.”
He kissed her again, then grabbed his bow and started walking toward the stairs.
“Bellamy,” Wells called, jogging over to him. “Listen, I know you’re not going to like this, but we think it’s best for everyone if you stay inside.”
“What?” Bellamy narrowed his eyes. “You can’t be serious. There’s no way in hell I’m staying in here. I’m not afraid of Rhodes, or any of them. Just let them try to bring me down again.”
“That’s the thing. You’re too much of a target. You’ll endanger everyone around you. I know you’re a great fighter, one of the best we have, but it’s not worth the risk.”
Bellamy stared at Wells, fighting the anger and indignation bubbling up from his stomach into his chest. What the hell was Wells thinking, trying to keep him out of the battle? As if dating the Earthborn leader’s dead daughter somehow made him Max’s second-in-command. But the vile thoughts taking shape in his brain disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived. Wells was right. This was about a lot more than Bellamy and his revenge. He needed to do what was best for the group, and in this case, it meant lying low.
He shot Clarke a rueful smile as he set his bow on the floor, then turned to Wells and held out his hand. “Be careful out there, man. And give Rhodes hell for me.”
Wells grinned as he took Bellamy’s hand and pulled him in for a hug. “I’ll see you soon.” Wells stepped back and glanced at Clarke.
She nodded at him, then turned to Bellamy. He wrapped his arms around her waist, held her close as she rested her cheek against his chest for a long moment while he kissed the top of her head. “I love you,” he said as she pulled away.
“I love you too.”
“Take care of her, Wells,” Bellamy called as he watched them make their way toward the stairs. Wells turned to meet his eyes and nodded.
“And take care of him, Clarke,” Bellamy said, a little softer this time. “Take care of each other.”
A moment later, they were gone.
Bellamy wasn’t sure how many miles he’d logged, pacing the hall, but it was impossible for him to stand still. He had to keep moving. The bunker was eerily silent. Fifteen minutes passed, then twenty. Bellamy couldn’t take it. He slipped out of the room, ran up the circular stairs, and cracked
open the door to Mount Weather. He stood in the shadows of the hallway, listening for a sign that the battle was about to begin.
Finally, a long, low whistle echoed across the hilltop, followed by three short chirps. Rhodes’s men were close. Bellamy held his breath. Seconds later, the first shot rang out, then another, then too many to count. The night sky lit up with gunfire, and dozens of spears and arrows whizzed down from the trees in a blurred swoosh. Agonized cries and shouts rose up as if from the earth itself. Then, as if they were materializing from thin air, wounded men and women began stumbling out of the forest, into the clearing outside Mount Weather. Some were Colonists, others were Earthborns. All were covered in blood and writhing in pain. It was instant carnage, as bad as anything Bellamy had seen when the dropships crashed.
Without thinking, Bellamy bolted through the door. He snatched up a club from the hand of a fallen Earthborn and began swinging it wildly in every direction. He was doing some pretty good damage too, until three Earthborns swooped down on him, grabbing him by the arms and practically lifting him off his feet. They hauled him backward into the entrance to Mount Weather. Bellamy kicked and tried to break free. “Let me go,” he yelled. “I want to fight!”
“You need to stay out of sight,” one of the women admonished, and Bellamy instantly felt remorseful—how had he let himself get carried away again?
He stopped struggling and began running toward the door. The Earthborns circled him for protection and ran alongside him. Just steps from the safety of Mount Weather’s walls, a man to Bellamy’s right let out a cry and fell to the ground. Bellamy froze and looked down in horror. Blood poured from the man’s chest, but he raised his arm and gestured for Bellamy to keep moving. Bellamy did as he was told, leaping forward in a full sprint. It was just a few feet. He felt the attackers closing in from behind, practically breathing down his neck. He pushed his muscles harder than ever, his legs burning and his fists and elbows pumping up and down as he ran.
Before he could reach the safety of the bunker, though, everything suddenly went silent.
“Stop, Blake, or I’ll shoot them all,” a man barked from behind him. Bellamy came to a halt. Panting for breath, he turned to see a group of bloodied and bruised Colonists approaching, guns raised and pointed right at him. The two Earthborns guarding Bellamy stepped in front of him and raised their spears. Bellamy clenched and unclenched his fists. His heart pounded so hard, it shook his whole body.
A Colonist in a guard’s uniform stepped to the front of the group. It was Burnett, Rhodes’s second-in-command. His eyes lit up when he saw Bellamy.
“Step aside,” Burnett commanded the two Earthborns standing between him and his prey.
“Not going to happen,” one of the men replied, shifting his club from one shoulder to the other.
“What does this boy mean to you?” Burnett growled. “Why would you die to protect him?”
“To keep Earth from being overrun by assholes like you,” the Earthborn said calmly. “Get out of here!” he called over his shoulder to Bellamy.
Bellamy backed slowly toward the door. More Colonists gathered behind Burnett, guns raised. Bellamy turned to run. He heard two sharp pops, then the dull thud as two bodies dropped to the ground. He gasped but stumbled forward. Just as he wrapped his fingers around the handle of the bunker door, a voice called after him.
“We have your sister.”
Bellamy froze. His chest constricted, as if Burnett’s words had formed a noose around his neck. “What are you going to do to her?” he asked as he turned around slowly, his voice strangled.
“For a boy so fixated on protecting his sister, it didn’t take much for you to leave her behind, did it?”
“She had a life there,” Bellamy said slowly, unsure if he was talking more to Burnett or to himself. “She was starting to know what it meant to be happy.”
Burnett smirked. “And now she knows what it means to be under arrest.”
White-hot anger surged through Bellamy’s veins. “She hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“Don’t worry. We haven’t hurt her… yet. But I suggest you come along with me, quietly. Or else I won’t be able to do anything to assure Ms. Blake’s safety.”
Bellamy winced at the image forming in his mind. Octavia shackled in the prison cabin, just like he’d been. Her tear-stained face gaunt and pale as she cried out for help, cried out for the brother who’d left her alone with the enemy after swearing to keep her safe.
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Bellamy asked, stalling for time while he tried to figure out his next step.
Burnett raised an eyebrow, then turned and let out a shrill whistle. Moments later, he was answered by the stomp of boots and a muffled cry. Four guards appeared from behind the trees, dragging two figures between them. For the briefest moment, Bellamy was relieved to see that neither was Octavia.
But then a fresh wave of cold horror ran down his spine.
They had Clarke and Wells.
Each was flanked by two guards. Their hands were bound tightly behind their backs, and someone had placed gags over their mouths. Clarke’s eyes were darting back and forth wildly, wide and blazing with fear and fury. Wells was thrashing from side to side, desperately trying to escape his captors’ grip.
“So what I need you to do,” Burnett said, “is come with us. Otherwise, you’ll force us to do something we don’t want to do.” Like hell you don’t, you sadistic bastard, Bellamy thought.
His eyes locked on Clarke’s. They held each other’s gaze for a long moment. She shook her head ever so slightly, and he knew what she meant. Don’t do it. Don’t give yourself up for us.
But it was too late. Rhodes and Burnett had won. There was no way Bellamy was going to put Clarke and Wells in any more danger. They’d already risked far too much for him.
“Let them go,” Bellamy said as he dropped his bow and started walking, hands raised, toward Burnett. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
Burnett’s men lunged forward and grabbed Bellamy by the elbows, then quickly restrained his hands.
“I think we’ll take all of you,” Burnett said.
The guards shoved Bellamy next to Clarke and Wells. He could feel the warmth of Clarke’s body next to his, and he shifted his weight so their arms brushed together. Burnett signaled his men to move out, and they pushed Bellamy, Clarke, and Wells toward the path.
They walked single file, Bellamy behind Clarke and in front of Wells. Despite the awkwardness of walking with her hands bound, Clarke’s chin was held high and her shoulders were thrown back. She’s fearless, Bellamy thought, feeling a surge of admiration despite the grim circumstances. The weird thing was, Bellamy didn’t feel afraid either. He’d done the right thing. No one else was going to die on his behalf, and if that meant his final hours were fast approaching, then so be it. He would rather face a thousand bullets that night than spend another day wondering who else would end up suffering because of him.
He craned his head back to look at the stars glittering in the patches between the leaves. The years he’d spent living in space were starting to feel like a dream. This was his home now. This was where he belonged.
“Hope you’re enjoying the view,” Burnett called from behind him. “Your execution is set for dawn.”
This was where he was going to die.
CHAPTER 24
Glass
Nothing about Earth seemed beautiful anymore. Every mile of tree-covered land was simply another mile she’d have to cross in order to save Luke, who was growing weaker by the moment.
Maybe we should have just died up there, with the rest of the Colony, she thought grimly. Maybe we never should have come here at all. But no, she wouldn’t allow them to die this way either: alone and terrified. Luke twitched in his sleep. She stood up, her legs shaky beneath her. Glass ran her hand down his stubbly cheek and touched his lips. The thought of his body shutting down made her chest seize with sadness. How could Earth just go on existing if
Luke were gone? How could she? No. She couldn’t just let him fade away out here in the woods. She owed him more than that.
With every meter, Glass grew more adept at traveling this way, but as her muscles grew sore and her mind grew tired, she worried more and more that she was moving in the wrong direction. The compass told her she was heading south, but nothing looked familiar. Had they passed this way at all?
By midday, Glass was soaked in sweat. Her back ached, and her limbs were shaky with exhaustion. She had no idea how much farther it would be to camp. She had to rest. She stopped, pulled the harness over her head and nudged the sled up against a tree. Luke grunted in pain and stirred. She knelt down to his side.
“Hey,” she whispered, dropping a kiss on his forehead.
She could feel with her lips that he was still burning up. He’d had a fever for days. A wave of uncertainty crashed down on her again. How could she do this? How could she get him all the way back by herself? She was barely strong enough to lift him, let alone hold him up and fend off violent predators. If they were attacked again, she knew it would be the last time.
Glass stood with her hands on her hips and looked up at the sky. She exhaled slowly, trying to bring down her heart rate. She could do this. She had to do this. As she summoned her strength, her eyes ran down the trunk of the tree behind the sled. A few feet above her head, she saw something—an indentation paler than the ridged wood around it. Glass stood on her tiptoes and strained her neck to see. She squinted and pushed herself up as high as she could go. When she finally grasped what she was looking at, she let out a gasp of surprise, then laughed out loud right there in the forest, with no one but an unconscious Luke to hear her. In the middle of a landscape so wild and untouched it was as if people had never even walked the Earth, there was a message, carved into the bark by a human hand. She just could just make it out: R S.
It was as if a voice had reached out of the past to whisper to her, telling her everything would be all right. R and S had loved each other, right here under this tree, where Glass now fought for the boy she loved. Under other circumstances, she and Luke could have carved their initials just like them. But who were R and S, and how long ago had they sat here together? Were they young or old? First love, or old married couple? Maybe it was a couple from before the Cataclysm, who probably didn’t survive. People who probably didn’t know the extent of the horrors that awaited the human race. All they knew was that they loved each other enough to leave behind a symbol of their affection for generations to come. The sight of that long-forgotten emblem stirred something in Glass’s chest. This couple could never have known that one day a girl from space would stumble upon their carving. Would it have mattered to them? Probably not. Their love was all they cared about. All they should have cared about.