Текст книги "The 100 / The Hundred"

Автор книги: Кэсс Морган

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

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CHAPTER 22

Wells

Wells broke into a sprint as Clarke’s scream ignited every nerve in his body. It had been difficult following Clarke through the woods, especially since he had to keep his distance—she would have been furious if she’d spotted him. But now he was flying over the grass and could barely feel his boots hitting the ground. He had just reached the stained-glass window when a second, louder scream filled the air.

“Clarke!” he yelled, sticking his head through the gap in the broken glass. It was dark inside the ruin, but there was no time to take out his flashbeam. Up ahead, he could just make out fingers clinging to a ledge. Wells ducked inside, landing with a thud on a wooden platform, and then slid forward on his stomach, reaching over the edge to wrap one hand around Clarke’s wrist while he grabbed on to the stone wall for leverage. “I’ve got you,” he said.

But he spoke too soon. One of her hands disappeared, and he was now supporting her entire weight. He could feel himself slipping toward the edge. “ Clarke!” he screamed again. “Hold on!”

With a grunt, he managed to pull himself up into a sitting position, then pressed one foot against the wall. His hand was sweating, and he could feel himself losing his grip. “ Wells,” she shrieked. Her voice echoed through the cavernous space, making it sound like there were a hundred Clarkes in peril.

He gritted his teeth and pulled, gasping with relief and exhaustion when Clarke’s other hand regained its hold. “You’re almost there. Come on.”

She placed her elbows on the wooden platform, and he reached over to grab her upper arm, heaving the rest of her body up over the ledge. They collapsed into a heap against the stone wall.

Clarke was sobbing as she struggled to catch her breath. “It’s okay,” Wells said, wrapping his arm around her. “You’re okay.” He waited for her to recoil from his touch, but instead, she buried herself in his arms. Wells tightened his hold.

“What are you doing here?” she asked from inside his embrace, her voice muffled. “I thought… I hoped…”

“I followed you—I was worried,” Wells spoke into her hair. “I could never let anything happen to you. No matter what.” He spoke without thinking, but as the words left his lien twe shrps he knew that they were true. Even if she kissed someone else—even if she wanted to be with someone else—he would always be there for her.

Clarke didn’t say anything, but she stayed in his arms.

Wells held her there, terrified to say anything else and end this moment too soon, his relief expanding into joy. Maybe he had a chance to win her back. Maybe, here in the ruins of the old world, they could start something new.

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CHAPTER 23

Bellamy

He’d start with letting the bastards starve. Then, maybe when they were all so weak with hunger that they had to crawlover to him and beg for forgiveness, then he’d consider going out to hunt. But they’d have to make do with a squirrel or something else small—no way was he killing another deer for them.

Bellamy had spent the night unable to sleep, watching the infirmary tent in order to make damn sure no one got anywhere nearhis sister. Now that it was morning, he’d resorted to pacing around the perimeter of the camp. He had too much energy to sit still.

Bellamy stepped over the tree line, feeling his body relax slightly as the shadows washed over him. Over the past few weeks, he’d discovered that he enjoyed the company of trees more than people. He shivered as a breeze swept across the back of his neck, and looked up. The patches of sky visible through the branches were beginning to turn gray, and the air suddenly felt different—almost damp. He lowered his head and kept walking. Perhaps Earth had had enough of their bullshit already and was initiating a second nuclear winter.

He turned and began drifting in the direction of the stream, where there were usually animal tracks to follow. But then a flash of movement in a tree a few meters away caught his attention, and he paused.

Something bright red was waving in the wind. It might’ve been a leaf, except there wasn’t anything else close to that shade nearby. Bellamy squinted, then took a few steps forward, feeling a strange prickle on the back of his neck. It was Octavia’s hair ribbon. It made absolutely no sense—she hadn’t been out in the woods for days—but he’d recognize it anywhere. There were some things you could never forget.

The halls were dark as Bellamy scurried up the stairs to their flat. It had been worth staying out after curfew, as long as he didn’t get caught. He’d broken through an old air shaft, too small for anyone but a child to crawl through, into an abandoned storage room he’d heard about on C deck. It was full of all kinds of treasures: a brimmed hat topped with a funny-looking bird; a box that said EIGHT MINUTE ABS on it, whatever that meant; and a red ribbon he’d found wrapped around the handle of a strange wheeled bag. Bellamy had traded his other discoveries in exchange for ration points, but he’d kept the ribbon, even though it would have fed them for a month. He wanted to give it to Octavia.

He pressed his thumb to the scanner and carefully opened the door, then froze. Someone was moving inside. His mother was normally asleep by now. He took a silent step forward, just enough to hear better, and felt himself relax as a familiar sound filled his ears. His mother was singing Octavia’s favorite lullaby, something she used to do all the time, sitting on the floor and singingn theht red was through the door of the closet until Octavia fell asleep. Bellamy sighed with relief. It didn’t sound like she was in the mood to scream at him, or worse, have one of her endless crying fits that made Bellamy want to hide in the closet with his sister.

Bellamy smiled as he crept into the main room and saw his mother kneeling on the floor. “Hush, little baby, don’t you cry, mama’s gonna buy you a star in the sky. And if that star can’t carry a tune, mama’s going buy you a piece of the moon.” Another sound drifted through the darkness, a faint wheeze. Was the ventilation system acting up again? He took a step forward. “And if the moon ever loses its shine, mama’s gonna buy you—”

Bellamy heard the sound again, although this time, it sounded more like a gasp.

“Mom?” He took another step. She was crouched over something on the floor. “Mom,” he bellowed, lunging forward.

His mother had her hands around Octavia’s neck, and even in the darkness, Bellamy could see that his sister’s face was blue. He knocked his mother to the side and scooped Octavia into his arms. For one heart-stopping second, he was sure she was dead, but then she twitched and started coughing. Bellamy exhaled, and his heart began thumping wildly.

“We were just playing a game,” his mother said faintly. “She couldn’t sleep. So we were playing a game.…”

Bellamy held Octavia close, making soothing noises, staring at the wall as a strange feeling came over him. He wasn’t sure what his mother had been doing, but he was sure she was going to try again.

Bellamy rose onto the balls of his feet and stretched his arm toward the ribbon. His fingers wrapped around the familiar satin, but as he tried to pull it down, he realized the ornament wasn’t just caught on the branch—it had been tied there.

Had someone found the ribbon and tied it to the tree for safekeeping? But why wouldn’t they just have brought it back to camp? He absentmindedly ran his hand down the branch, letting the rough bark dig into his skin as he traced a line from the branch down to the trunk. But then he froze. His fingers were hovering on the edge of a dip in the trunk, where a chunk of wood had been scooped out. There was something sticking out—a bird’s nest, maybe?

Bellamy grabbed on to the edge and pulled, watching in horror as the medicine he and Clarke had discovered came tumbling out. The pills, syringes, bottles—all of it was scattered in the grass by his feet. His brain raced for an explanation, anything to staunch the panic welling up in his chest.

He sank to the grass with a groan and closed his eyes.

It was true. Octavia hadtaken the medicine. She’d hidden it in the tree and used her hair ribbon as a marker so she could find it again. But he couldn’t think why she’d done it. Had she worried about what would happen if one of them had gotten sick? Maybe she’d been planning to take the supplies with them when they set out on their own.

But then Graham’s words rang in his ears. We can’t let anyone else die just because your little sister’s a drug addict.

The boy assigned to stand guard outside the infirmary tent had fallen asleep. He barely managed to scramble to his feet and mumble a quick “Hey, you can’t go in there” before Bellamy burst through the flap. He jerked his head around, confirming that it was empty except for Clarke’s sleeping sick friend, then strode over to where Octavia was sitting cross-legged on her cot, braiding her hair.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he hissed.

“What are you talking about?” Her voice was a mixture of boredom and irritation, as if he were pestering her about schoolwork like he always used to when checking up on her in the care center.

Bellamy threw the hair ribbon down on her cot, wincing as he saw horror rush to Octavia’s face. “I didn’t…,” she stammered. “It wasn’t…”

“Cut the bullshit, O,” he snapped. “Now you can finish braiding your goddamn hair while a girl is dying in front of you.”

Octavia’s eyes darted to Thalia, then shifted down. “I didn’t think she was really that sick,” she said softly. “Clarke had already given her medicine. By the time I realized she needed more, it was too late. I can’t confess now. You saw how they were. I didn’t know what they’d do to me.” When she looked up again, her deep-blue eyes were filled with tears. “Even you hate me now, and you’re my brother.”

Bellamy sighed and sat down next to his sister. “I don’t hate you.” He grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I just don’t understand. Why’d you do it? The truth this time, please.”

Octavia fell silent, and he could feel her skin growing clammy as she began to tremble. “O?” He released her hand.

“I needed them,” she said, her voice small. “I can’t sleep without them.” She paused and closed her eyes. “At first, it was just at night. I kept having these terrible dreams, so the nurse at the care center gave me medicine to help me sleep, but then it got worse. There were times when I couldn’t breathe, when it felt like the whole universe was closing in on me, crushing me. The nurse wouldn’t give me any more medicine, even when I asked, so I started stealing pills. It was the only thing that made me feel better.”

Bellamy stared at her. “ That’swhat you were caught stealing?” he asked slowly, the realization overtaking him. “Not food for the younger kids in the care center. Pills.”

Octavia didn’t say anything, just nodded, her eyes full of tears.

“O,” Bellamy sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I know how much you worry about me.” She took a deep breath. “I know how you want to protect me all the time. I didn’t want you to feel like you’d failed.”

Bellamy felt pain radiating out from a spot behind his heart. He didn’t know which hurt more: that his sister was a drug addict, or that she hadn’t told him the truth because he’d been so blinded by his insane need to watch over her. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse. “So what do we do now?” he asked. For the first time in his life, he had no idea how to help his sister. “What will happen when we give the medicine back?”

“I’ll be okay. I just need to learn how to live without them. It’s already easier here.” She reached out and took his hand, giving him a strange, almost pleading look. “Do you wish you hadn’t come here for me?”

“No,” Bellamy said firmly, shaking his head. “I ju hefull ofst need some time to process everything.” He rose to his feet, then looked back at his sister. “But you need to make sure Clarke gets the medicine. Youhave to be the one to tell her. I’m serious, O.”

“I know.” She nodded, then turned to look at Thalia and seemed to deflate a little. “I’ll do it tonight.”

“Okay.” Sighing, Bellamy strode out of the tent and into the clearing. When he reached the tree line, he took a deep breath, allowing the damp air to seep through his lungs into his aching chest. He tilted his head back to let the wind wash over his flushed skin. Now that the sky was unobstructed by trees, it looked even darker, almost black. Suddenly, a line of jagged light flashed across the sky, followed by a violent, resounding crack that made the earth shudder. Bellamy jumped, and screams filled the clearing. But they were quickly drowned out by another deafening boom, this one louder than the first, like the sky was about to tumble to Earth.

Then something did start to fall. Drops of liquid were cascading down his skin, dripping off his hair, and quickly seeping into his clothes. Rain, Bellamy realized, real rain. He tilted his face up toward the sky, and for a moment, his wonder drowned out all the rest—his anger at Graham and Wells and Clarke, his concern for his sister, the screams of the idiot kids who didn’t know that rain was harmless. He closed his eyes, letting the water wash away the dirt and sweat caked on his face. For a second, he let himself imagine that the rain could wash everything away: the blood, the tears, the fact that he and Octavia had failed each other. They could have a clean start, try again.

Bellamy opened his eyes. He was being ridiculous, he knew. The rain was only water, and there was no such thing as a clean start. That was the thing about secrets—you had to carry them with you forever, no matter what the cost.

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CHAPTER 24

Glass

As she walked across the skybridge, the terrible realization that her mother was right hung like a weight on Glass’s heart. She couldn’t risk a single misstep—not for her sake, but for Luke’s. What if the Chancellor woke up and revoked her pardon, and then Luke did something stupid and admitted the truth about the pregnancy? It was like history was repeating itself, and yet she knew she’d always make the same choice. She would always choose to protect the boy she loved.

She’d been avoiding Luke for several days, though he’d been summoned for so many emergency shifts lately that she wasn’t sure he’d even noticed. She’d finally arranged to meet at his flat this evening, and the thought of him greeting her with a smile made her chest ache. At least this time, there’d be no tricks, no lies. She’d simply tell him the truth, no matter how difficult. Maybe he’d seek comfort in Camille again, and then things would truly come full circle. The thought came with a knife-sharp pang, but Glass ignored it and kept walking.

As she approached the far end of the skybridge, her eyes landed on a small group gathered near the checkpoint. A few guards stood speaking in a tight circle, while a number of civilians whispered and pointed at something through the long, star-filled window that bordered the walkway. Glass suddenly recognized a few of the guards—they were Luke’s team, members of the elite guard’s engineering corps. The woman with graying hair who was moving her fingers rapidly through the air, manipulating a holo-diagr gmoving ham in front of her face, was Bekah. Next to her was Ali, a boy with dark skin and bright-green eyes fixed intently on the image Bekah was creating.

“Glass!” Ali exclaimed warmly, looking up as she approached. He jogged forward a few steps and clasped her hands in his. “It’s great to see you. How are you?”

“I’m… good,” she stammered, confused. How much did they know? Were they greeting her as Luke’s ex, the snotty Phoenix girl who’d broken his heart, or as Luke’s escaped-convict girlfriend? Either way, Ali was being much kinder than she deserved.

Bekah shot Glass a quick smile and then returned to her diagrams, frowning as she rotated a complicated-looking three-dimensional blueprint. “Where’s Luke?” Glass asked as she glanced from side to side. If they were still on duty, he wouldn’t be home yet either.

Ali gestured out the window with a grin. “Look outside.”

Glass turned slowly, every atom in her body turning to ice. She knew already what she would see. Two figures in space suits were floating outside, each tethered to the ship by a thin cord. They had tool kits strapped to their backs and were using their gloved hands to move along the skybridge.

As if in a trance, Glass moved slowly forward and pressed her face against the window. She watched in horror as the two figures nodded at each other, then disappeared under the skybridge. Luke’s unit was responsible for crucial repairs, but he’d only been a junior member of the team when they were dating last year. She knew he’d been promoted, but she had no idea he would be out on spacewalks this soon.

The thought of him outside—nothing separating him from the cold emptiness of space but a laughably thin cord and a pressurized suit—made Glass feel dizzy. She grabbed on to the railing to steady herself, sending up a silent prayer to the stars to keep him safe.

She hadn’t left the flat in two weeks. Not even her loosest clothes could mask the bump that had emerged with alarming suddenness. Glass wasn’t sure how much longer her mother would be able to make excuses for her. She’d stopped responding to her friends’ messages, and eventually, they’d stopped sending them. Everyone except for Wells, who contacted her every day without fail.

Glass pulled up her message queue to reread the note he’d sent her that morning.

I know something must be wrong, and I hope you know that I’m always here for whatever you need. But even if you don’t (or can’t) write back, I’m going to keep filling your queue with my stupid ramblings because, no matter what happened, you’re still my best friend and I’ll never stop wishing you were here.

The rest of the note went on to talk about Wells’s frustrations with officer training, then ended with a few cryptic allusions to something about Clarke. Glass hoped there was nothing seriously wrong—Clarke needed to realize how good she had it. She would never find a sweeter, smarter boy on Phoenix. Although the honor of the sweetest, smartest boy in the Colony went to Luke. Luke, who was no longer in her life.

The only thing that kept Glass sane was the growing presence inside her. Placing her hand on her stomach, Glass whispered to the baby, telling him again—she felt certain, somehow, that it was a bhatept Glaoy—how much she loved him.

There was a sudden knock at the door, and Glass hurried to stand up, to try to run into her bedroom and lock it shut. But the three guards had already burst inside.

“Glass Sorenson,” one of them barked, his eyes traveling to her stomach, the bump glaringly obvious. “You are under arrest for violation of the Gaia Doctrine.”

“Please just let me explain.” She gasped as panic gushed through her. It felt like she was drowning. The room was spinning, and it was hard to tell which words were coming out of her mouth and which were dashing manically through her skull.

In a flash, one of the guards grabbed her arms and wrenched her wrists behind her back while another secured them with cuffs. “No,” she whimpered. “Please. It was an accident.” She pressed her feet into the floor, but there was no use. The guards were forcibly dragging her across the room.

And then some wild, frantic instinct took over, and Glass thrashed against the guard restraining her, kicking wildly against his shins and shoving her elbow into his throat. He tightened his grip on her shoulder as he dragged her out through the corridor and into the stairwell.

A sob wrenched up from inside her as Glass realized that she would never see Luke again, the knowledge hitting her with all the force of a hammer. Her legs suddenly gave out. The guard holding her staggered back as she slid, trying to keep her upright.

I could do it, Glass thought, taking advantage of his momentary imbalance to surge wildly forward. For a brief, shining moment, Glass felt the thrill of hope pushing through the panic. This was her chance. She would escape.

But then the guard snatched at her from behind and she lost her footing. Her shoulder smacked against the landing and, suddenly, she was falling down the sharp, narrow, dim staircase.

Everything went dark.

When Glass opened her eyes again, her whole body ached. Her knees, her shoulders, her stomach—

Her stomach. Glass tried to move her hands to feel it, but they were strapped down. No, cuffed down, she realized in growing horror. Of course; she was a criminal.

“Oh, sweetie, you’re awake,” a warm voice greeted her.

Through her blurry vision, she could just make out the shape of a figure approaching her bed. It was a nurse.

“Please,” Glass croaked. “Is he okay? Can I hold him?” The woman paused, and Glass knew even before she spoke what she would say. She could already sense it, the horrible, aching emptiness inside her.

“I’m sorry,” the nurse said quietly. Glass could barely see her mouth, which gave the impression that the voice was coming from somewhere else entirely. “We couldn’t save him.”

Glass turne oice d away, letting the cold metal of the handcuffs press angrily against her skin, not caring about the pain. Any feeling was better than this, this heartache that would never go away.

Finally, the two figures reappeared from underneath the skybridge. Glass exhaled loudly as she brought her hand to the window. How long had she been holding her breath?

“Are you okay?” a voice asked, and for a moment, Glass thought with horror that she was back in that hospital room with the nurse. But it was only Luke’s guard friend Bekah, looking at her with concern.

Her face was wet, Glass realized. She’d been crying. She couldn’t even bring herself to feel embarrassed, she was so relieved that Luke had made it back safely.

“Thanks,” Glass managed, taking the handkerchief that Bekah offered, wiping away her tears. Outside, Luke was pulling himself back along the cord, placing one gloved hand over the other as he moved back toward the airlock chamber.

Around her, various onlookers started to clap and high-five one another, but Glass stayed at the window, her eyes fixed on the spot she’d last seen Luke. The thoughts that Glass had carried with her onto the skybridge seemed as distant as a long-forgotten dream. She couldn’t sever their tie any more than she could cut the wire tethering him to the ship. Without Luke, life would be as empty and cold as space itself.

“Hey, you,” his voice came from behind her, and Glass spun around, throwing herself into his arms. His thermal shirt was soaked with sweat, his curls damp and dirty, but Glass didn’t care.

“I was worried about you,” she said, her voice muffled into his shirt.

He laughed and wrapped his arms tighter around her, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “This is a nice surprise.”

Glass looked up at him, not caring that her eyes were puffy and that her nose was running. “It’s fine,” Luke said, exchanging an amused look with Ali before turning back to Glass. “It’s all part of the job.”

Her heart was still pumping too fast to speak, so she nodded, shooting an embarrassed smile at Bekah and Ali and the others. “Come on,” Luke said, taking her hand and leading her down the skybridge.

As they crossed onto Walden, Glass’s breathing finally returned to normal. “I can’t believe you do that,” she said quietly. “Aren’t you terrified?”

“It’s scary, but it’s exhilarating, too. It’s so… enormous out there. I know that sounds kind of stupid.” He paused, but Glass shook her head. They both knew about enclosed spaces, how you could feel trapped in them, even one as vast as the ship.

“I’m just glad everything went okay,” she said.

“Yeah, it did. Well, mostly.” Luke’s fingers loosened their grip around hers, and his voice grew slightly strained. “There was something weird going on with the airlock. Some valve must’ve come loose, because it was releasing oxygen out of the ship.”

“But you guys fixed it, right?”

“Of course. That’s what we’re trained to do.” He squeezed her hand.

Suddenly, Glass stopped short, turning to Luke and rising up on her toes to kiss him, right there in the middle of the crowded hallway. She didn’t care anymore who saw them. No matter what happened, she thought, kissing him with an almost desperate need, she would never let anything keep thethi of tm apart again.

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