Текст книги "The 100 / The Hundred"

Автор книги: Кэсс Морган

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

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CHAPTER 25

Bellamy

Bellamy stared into the flickering flames, the buzz of conversation around him mingling with the cracking of the logs. It had been a few hours since his confrontation with Octavia, and so far there’d been no sign of her. He hoped she’d return the medicine soon. He couldn’t force her to hand it over, he knew, or their relationship would never recover. He had to show that he trusted her, and she had to do the right thing to win back that trust.

The rain had stopped, but the ground was still damp. A few scuffles had broken out over the handful of rocks that had become VIP seating around the campfire, but for the most part, everyone seemed willing to tolerate the soggy grass to sit close to the warmth of the flames. A few girls had sought out a third option and were now perched on the laps of smug-looking boys.

He scanned the circle, searching for Clarke. There was much more smoke than usual, probably because all the firewood was wet, and it took a few moments for his eyes to settle on the familiar glint of her reddish-gold hair. He squinted and realized, to his surprise, that she was sitting next to Wells. They weren’t touching, or even speaking, but something had changed between them. The tension that wracked Clarke’s body whenever Wells came near had disappeared, and instead of shooting wounded, furtive looks at Clarke when her head was turned, Wells was staring placidly into the fire, a content look on his face.

A shard of resentment worked its way into Bellamy’s stomach. He should have known it would only be a matter of time before Clarke went running back to Wells. He should never have kissed her in the woods. He’d only ever really cared about one other girl before—and he’d gotten hurt that time too.

The clouds were thick enough to block out most of the stars, but Bellamy tilted his head back anyway, wondering how much warning they’d have before the next dropship arrived. Would they be able to see it tearing toward them—a warning flare in the sky?

But then his eyes fell on a figure moving through the darkness toward the fire: the shadowy outline of a tiny girl with her head held high. Bellamy rose to his feet as Octavia stepped into the pool of light cast by the dancing flames, sending a ripple of whispers around the circle.

“Oh, for the love of god.” Bellamy heard Graham groan. “Who the hell was supposed to be watching her tonight?”

Wells shot Clarke a look, then stood to face Graham. “It’s fine,” he said. “She can join us.”

Octavia paused, looking from Wells to Graham as the boys glared at each other. But before either of them had time to speak, she took a breath and stepped forward. “I have something to say,” she said. She was trembling, but her voice was firm.

The excited whispers and confused murmurs trailed off as nearly a hundred heads turned to face Octavia. In the flickering firelight, Bellamy could see the panic creeping across her face, and felt a sudden urge to run over and hold her hand. But he forced his feet to stay rooted to the ground. He’d spent so long trying to take care of the little girl in his mind that he’d never gotten to know the person she’d become. And right now, this was something she had to do on her own.

“I did take the medicine,” Octavia began. She paused to let as a viaher words sink in, then took a deep breath and continued as a rumble of I knew its and I told you sos began to build like thunder. Octavia told the group a similar version of the story she’d told Bellamy earlier that day—how hard it’d been growing up in the care center, how her dependence on pills had turned into an addiction.

The muttering ceased as Octavia’s voice cracked. “Back on the Colony, I never thought I was hurting anyone. Stealing just seemed like a way to get what I deserved. I figured everyone deserved to be able to fall asleep at night. To wake up without feeling that your nightmares had left scars inside your head.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, Bellamy could see the faint shimmer of tears. “I was so selfish, so scared. But I never meant to hurt Thalia, or anyone.” She turned to Clarke and swallowed the sob that seemed to be forming in her throat. “I’m so sorry. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but all I can ask is that you give me a chance to start over.” She raised her chin and looked around the circle until she saw Bellamy, and she gave him a small smile. “Just like everyone here wants to do. I know a lot of us have done things we’re not proud of, but we’ve been given a chance for a new beginning. I know I almost ruined it for a lot of you, but I’d like to start over—to become a better person, to help make Earth the world we want it to be.”

Bellamy’s heart swelled with pride. Tears were beginning to blur his vision, although if anyone called him out on it, he’d blame it on the smoke. His sister’s life had been full of suffering and hardship from the very beginning. She’d made mistakes—they both had—but she’d still managed to stay brave and strong.

For a moment, no one spoke. Even the crackling of the fire faded away, as if Earth itself were holding its breath. But then Graham’s voice barreled through the silence. “That’s bullshit.”

Bellamy bristled as a spark of anger sizzled across his chest, but he gritted his teeth. Of course Graham was going to be a bastard about it—that didn’t mean the others hadn’t been touched by Octavia’s speech. But instead of prompting scoffs or disapproving whispers, Graham’s words unleashed a tide of murmured assent that swelled quickly into shouts. He looked around the circle as he continued. “Why should we bust our asses all day, chopping wood, hauling water, doing whatever it takes to keep everyone alive, just to let some delusional drug addict walk all over us? It’s like being—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Bellamy said, cutting him off. He glanced at Octavia. Her bottom lip had begun to quiver as her eyes darted around the fire. “You’ve made your point. But there are ninety-four other people here with opinions of their own, and they don’t need you to tell them what to think.”

“I agree with Graham,” a girl’s voice called out. Bellamy turned and saw a short-haired Waldenite glaring at Octavia. “We allhad shitty lives back on the Colony, but you don’t see anyone else stealing.” She narrowed her eyes. “Who knows what she’ll take next time.”

“Everyone just relax.” Clarke had risen to her feet. “She apologized. We have to give her a second chance.” Bellamy stared at her in surprise, waiting for the surge of indignation. After all, she was the one who’d accused Octavia in the first place. But as he looked at Clarke, all he felt was gratitude.

“No.” Graham’s voice was hard and as he looked around the circle, his eyes flashed with something other than reflected firelight. He turned to Wells, who was still standing next to Clarke. “It’s just like you sust boaid. There has to be some kind of order, or else there’s no way in hell we’ll make it.”

“So what do you recommend?” Wells asked. Graham smiled, and Bellamy felt like someone had poured ice water down his back. Fixing Graham with a glare, he hurried over to Octavia and put his arm around her.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Graham said, turning to Bellamy and Octavia. “But we don’t have a choice. She put Thalia’s life at risk. We can’t take any chances. Octavia needs to die.”

“What?” Bellamy sputtered. “Are you insane?” He jerked his head from side to side, expecting to see a sea of similarly revolted faces. But while a few people were staring at Graham in shock, a number were nodding.

Bellamy stepped protectively in front of Octavia, who was trembling violently. He’d burn the goddamn planet to a crisp before he let anyone near his sister.

“Should we put it to a vote?” Graham raised his chin and nodded at Wells. “You’re the one who was so excited to bring democracyback to Earth. It seems only fair.”

“This is notwhat I meant,” Wells snapped. His face had lost its politician’s reserve, his features twisted with anger. “We’re not going to vote about whether to killpeople.”

“No?” Graham raised an eyebrow. “So it’s okay for your father, but not for us.”

Bellamy winced and closed his eyes as he heard sounds of agreement ripple through the crowd. It was exactly what he would’ve said in that situation, except that Bellamy would have only meant it as a jab at Wells. He’d never actuallypropose killing someone.

“The Council doesn’t execute people for fun.” Wells’s voice shook with fury. “Keeping humanity alive in space required extraordinary measures. Sometimes cruelmeasures.” Wells paused. “But we have a chance to do better.”

“So what?” Graham growled. “You’re just going to give her a slap on the wrist and then make everyone pinky swear not to break the rules?” A few snickers rose up from the crowd.

“No.” Wells shook his head. “You’re right. There needs to be consequences.” He took a deep breath. “We’ll banish them from camp.” His voice was firm, but when he turned to Bellamy, his eyes seemed to contain a strange mixture of anguish and relief.

“Banish?” Graham repeated. “So they can sneak back whenever they want and steal more supplies? That’s bullshit.”

Bellamy opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was drowned out as the buzz of voices grew louder. Finally, a girl Bellamy vaguely recognized from Walden stood up. “That sounds fair,” she called out, shouting to be heard over the crowd, which grew quiet as heads turned to look at her. “As long as they promise never to come back.”

Bellamy tightened his arm around Octavia, who’d gone limp. He nodded. “We’ll leave at sunrise.” He turned to smile at Octavia—this is what he’d planned all along. So then why did he feel more apprehension than relief?

The fire died down, and darkness settled over the camp like a blanket, muffling footsteps and muting voices as shadowy figures disappeared into tents or carried blankets toward the edges of the clearing.

Bel si mufflilamy set up a makeshift cot for Octavia at the short end, near the wreckage of the dropship. They hadn’t said it aloud, but they both knew neither of them wanted to sleep in a tent tonight.

Octavia curled up on her blanket and closed her eyes, though it was clear she wasn’t sleeping. The trip back into the woods with Clarke to retrieve the medicine had been a tense one. No one had spoken, though Bellamy could feel Clarke’s eyes boring into his back as he led the way.

Now he sat next to Octavia, his back against a tree, staring into the darkness. It was hard to wrap his mind around the fact that tomorrow, they would leave forever.

A shape moved through the shadows toward them. Wells. He had Bellamy’s bow slung over his shoulder.

“Hey,” Wells said quietly as Bellamy rose to his feet. “I’m sorry about what happened back there. I know banishment sounds harsh, but I wasn’t sure what else to do.” He sighed. “I really thought Graham was going to convince them to…” He trailed off as his eyes fell on Octavia. “Not that I would’ve let that happen, but there’s only two of us and a lot of them.”

Bellamy felt a smartass retort rise in his throat but swallowed it back down. Wells had done the best thing he could under the circumstances. “Thank you.”

They stared at each other for a moment, then Bellamy cleared his throat. “Listen, I should probably…” He paused. “I’m sorry about your father.” Bellamy took a deep breath and forced himself to meet Wells’s eyes. “I hope he’s okay.”

“Thank you,” Wells said quietly. “I do too.” He fell silent for a moment, but when he spoke again, his voice was firm. “I know you were just trying to protect your sister. I would’ve done the same thing.” He smiled. “I suppose I sort of did. Wells extended his hand. “I hope you and Octavia stay safe out there.”

Bellamy shook his hand and smiled ruefully. “I can’t imagine anything out there worse than Graham. Keep an eye on that kid.”

“Will do.” Wells nodded, then turned around and headed back into the darkness.

Bellamy lowered himself to the blanket and stared out into the clearing. He could just make out the shape of the infirmary tent where Clarke would be giving Thalia the long-awaited medicine. His stomach twisted strangely as he thought back to the scene by the fire, the flames flickering over Clarke’s determined face. He’d never known a girl who was so beautiful and intense at once.

Bellamy leaned back with a sigh and closed his eyes, wondering how long it would take until she stopped being the last person he thought about before he fell asleep.

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CHAPTER 26

Clarke

The antibiotics were working. Although it had been less than a few hours since Clarke burst into the tent, clutching the medicine under her arm, Thalia’s fever had already gone down, and she was more alert than she’d been in days.

Clarke lowered herself to perch on the edge of Thalia’s cot as her friend’s eyes fluttered open. “Welcome back,” Clarke said with a grin. “How are you feeling?”

Thalia’s eyes darted around the empty tent, then looked up to meet Clarke’s. “This isn’t heaven, is it?”

Clarke shook her head. “God, I hope not.”

“Good. Because I always assumed there’d be boys there. Boys who didn’t use water rationing as an excuse not to bathe.” Thalia managed a smile. “Did anyone build the first shower on Earth while I was passed out?”

“Nope. You didn’t miss much.”

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe.” Thalia raised her shoulders in an attempt to sit up, but settled back down with a groan. Clarke gently placed a rolled-up blanket behind her. “Thanks,” she muttered and surveyed Clarke for a moment before she spoke again. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

Clarke gave her a bemused smile. “Nothing! I’m just so happy you’re feeling better.”

“Please. You can’t hide anything from me. You know I always manage to get your secrets out of you,” Thalia deadpanned. “You can start by telling me where you found the medicine.”

“Octavia had it,” Clarke explained and quickly filled Thalia in on what had happened. “She and Bellamy are leaving tomorrow,” she finished. “That’s part of the deal Wells made with everyone. I know it sounds crazy, but it really felt like they were close to attacking her.” She shook her head. “If Wells hadn’t stepped in, I’m not sure what would’ve happened.”

Thalia was staring at Clarke with a curious expression on her face.

“What?” Clarke asked.

“Nothing, just—this is the first time I’ve ever heard you say his name without looking like you want to punch a hole through a wall.”

“True,” Clarke admitted with a smile. She supposed her feelings had changed—or at least, were starting to.

“So?”

Clarke began to fiddle with the pill bottles. She hadn’t wanted to tell Thalia about what happened in the woods in case it made Thalia feel guilty—after all, she’d gone out looking for plants to help her and had ended up almost getting killed. “There’s something else I haven’t told you. It didn’t seem important before, when you were so sick, but…” She took a breath and gave Thalia a brief account of Wells rescuing her from the ruin.

“He followed you all the way there?”

Clarke nodded. “The weird thing is, while I was hanging on that ledge, convinced I was going to die, he was the one person I was thinking about. And when he showed up, I wasn’t even angry that he’d followed me. I was just relieved that he’d cared enough to go after me, despite the terrible things I’ve said to him.”

“He loves you. Nothing you do or say can ever change that.”

“I know.” Clarke closed her eyes, though she was afraid of the images that she knew would emerge from the shadows. “Even when we were in Confinement and I told you I wanted to see his organs explode in space, I think there was a part of me that still loved him. And that made the pain even worse.”

Thalia was looking at her with a mixture of pity and understanding. “It’s time to stop punishing yourself, Clarke.”

“You mean punishing him.”

“No. I mean it’s time to stop punishing yourself for loving him. It’s not a betrayal of your parents.”

Clarke stiffened. “You didn’t know them. You have no idea what they’d think.”

“I know they wanted whtheont sizat was best for you. They were willing to do something they knew was wrong in order to keep you safe.” She paused. “Just like Wells.”

Clarke sighed and tucked her legs up underneath her, sitting on Thalia’s bed just like she used to back in their cell. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know if I can fight this anymore. Hating him is exhausting.”

“You should talk to him.”

Clarke nodded. “I will.”

“No, I mean right now.” Thalia’s eyes were bright with excitement. “Go talk to him.”

“What? It’s late.”

“I’m sure he’s lying wide-awake, thinking about you.…”

Clarke unfolded her legs, then rose to her feet. “Fine,” she said, “if that’s what it takes to get you to be quiet and rest.”

She walked across the tent, playfully rolling her eyes at her friend as she pulled the flap aside. She stepped into the clearing and paused, wondering if she was making a mistake.

But it was too late to turn around. Her heart was beating so fast, it seemed to have a momentum of its own, pounding a frantic message to Wells through the darkness. I’m coming.

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CHAPTER 27

Wells

Wells stared up at the sky. He’d never felt at ease in the overcrowded tents, and after what had happened tonight, the thought of being crammed next to people who’d been ready to tear Octavia apart was unbearable. Despite the cold, he liked falling asleep looking at the same stars he’d seen from his bed at home. He loved the moments when the moon disappeared behind a cloud and it became too dark to see the outlines of the trees. The sky would seem to stretch all the way down to the ground, creating the impression they weren’t on Earth at all but back up among the stars. It always gave him a small pain to open his eyes in the morning and find them gone.

Yet even the sky wasn’t enough to quiet Wells’s mind tonight. He pushed himself into a seated position, wincing as he pried his blanket off the scattered rocks and branches. A rustling in a nearby tree caught his attention and he rose to his feet, craning his neck for a better look.

Wells stared in wonder as the tree, which had never boasted a single blossom since they’d landed, burst into bloom. Glimmering pink petals unfurled from pods he hadn’t noticed before, like fingertips reaching out in the dark. They were beautiful. Wells rose onto his toes, stretched his arms above his head, and wrapped his fingers around a stem.

“Wells?”

He spun around and saw Clarke standing a few meters away.

“What are you doing?”

He was about to ask her the same question, but instead he walked silently toward her and slipped the flower into her hand. She stared at it, and for a moment he thought she might shove it back at him. But to his surprise and relief, she looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” They stared at each other for a moment. “You couldn’t sleep either?” he asked, and she shook her head.

Wells sat down on an exposed tree root, which was just large enough for two, and gestured for her to sit besid si mhimselfe him.

After a moment she sank down, keeping a sliver of empty space between them. “How’s Thalia doing?” he asked.

“Much better. I’m so thankful Octavia came forward.” She looked down and ran her finger along the blossom. “I just can’t believe they’re leaving tomorrow.”

There was a note of regret in her voice that made Wells’s stomach clench. “I thought you’d be happy to see her go, after what she put you through.”

Clarke was quiet for a moment. “Good people can make mistakes,” she said slowly. She looked up, and her eyes met Wells’s. “It doesn’t mean you stop caring about them.”

For a long moment, all they could hear was the wind rustling the leaves, the silence filling with all the words that had been left unsaid. The apologies that could never begin to convey his sorrow.

The trial of Phoenix’s two most famous scientists had turned into the event of the year. There were more people gathered in the Council chamber than had ever shown up for a lecture, or any event other than the Remembrance Ceremony.

But Wells was only vaguely aware of the audience. The disgust he’d felt at their morbid curiosity—like Romans waiting for bloodshed at the Colosseum—faded away the moment his eyes landed on the girl sitting alone in the front row. He hadn’t seen Clarke since the night she’d confided in him about her parents’ research. Wells had told his father, who weighed the information carefully. As Wells had expected, the Chancellor had known nothing about the experiments and had immediately launched an inquiry. Yet the investigation had taken a terrible turn Wells hadn’t expected, and now Clarke’s parents were going to face the Council on criminal charges. Guilty and terrified, Wells had spent the past week desperate to find Clarke, but his deluge of messages had gone unanswered, and when he went to her flat, he found it sealed off by guards.

Her expression was blank as she watched the Council members take their seats. But then she turned and saw Wells. Her eyes locked with his, her gaze filled with hatred so intense that it sent bile shooting up from his stomach.

Wells shrank back into his seat in the third row. He’d only wanted his father to stop her parents’ research, to put an end to Clarke’s misery. He never imagined they’d end up on trial for their lives.

Two guards escorted Clarke’s mother to a bench in the front. She kept her chin high as she surveyed the Council, but then her eyes settled on her daughter, and her face fell.

Clarke jumped to her feet and said something Wells couldn’t hear, but it didn’t matter. The sad smile on her mother’s face was enough to cleave Wells’s heart in two.

Another pair of guards led her father in, and the trial began.

A female member of the Council opened the proceedings by giving an overview of the investigation. According to the Griffins, she reported, they had been ordered by Vice Chancellor Rhodes to conduct human radiation trials, which Rhodes vehemently denied.

A strange numbness spread over Wells as he watched the Vice Chancellor stand, his face grave as font>s he explained that while he’d approved their request for a new lab, he never said a word about experimenting on children.

Everyone’s voices seemed very far away—the fragments of the Council members’ questions and the Griffins’ replies that reached his ears distorted, like sound waves from a distant galaxy. Wells heard the crowd’s gasps before his brain had time to process what they were reacting to.

Then, suddenly, the Council was voting.

The first guilty broke through the haze that had settled over Wells. He turned to look at Clarke, who was sitting still and rigid.

“Guilty.”

No. Wells thought. No, please.

“Guilty.” The word echoed down the table until it was his father’s turn. He cleared his throat, and for a brief moment, Wells believed there was a chance. That his father would figure out a way to turn the tide.

“Guilty.”

“No!” Clarke’s anguished shriek rose above the din of shocked whispers and satisfied murmurs. She jumped to her feet. “You can’t do this. It wasn’t their fault.” Her face twisted with rage as she pointed at the Vice Chancellor. “You. You forced them to do it, you evil, lying bastard.” She took a step forward and was immediately surrounded by guards.

Vice Chancellor Rhodes gave a long sigh. “I’m afraid you’re much better at experimenting on innocent children than you are at lying, Miss Griffin.” He turned to Wells’s father. “We know from the security log that she visited the lab on a regular basis. She knew about the atrocities her parents were committing and did nothing to stop it. She may have even helped.”

Wells inhaled so sharply, he could feel his stomach scrape against his ribs. He waited for his father to give Rhodes one of his dismissive glares, but to Wells’s horror, the Chancellor was staring gravely at Clarke. After a long moment, his jaw tightened, and he turned to face the other Council members.

“I hereby put forward a motion to try Clarke Griffin for the crime of accessory to treason.”

No. His father’s words sank into his skin like a paralytic, stopping his heart.

Wells could see the Council members’ mouths moving, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Every atom in his body was focused on praying to whatever forgotten god might be listening. Let her go, he pleaded. I’ll do anything. It was true. He was ready to offer his life in exchange for hers.

Take me instead.

The Vice Chancellor leaned over to whisper something to Wells’s father.

I don’t care if it’s painful.

The Chancello>Th">

Shove me through the release portal so my body implodes.

The person next to Wells shuddered at something the Chancellor said.

Just let her go.

He had the uncomfortable sensation of sound returning as gasps rose up from the audience. Two guards grabbed Clarke and began dragging her away.

The girl he’d do anything to protect would soon be sentenced to death. And she would have every right to die hating him.

It was all his fault.

“I’m sorry,” Wells whispered, as if somehow, that could make it better.

“I know,” she said, her voice soft.

Wells froze, and for a moment, he was too afraid to look at her, afraid to see the grief welling up from the wound he knew would never heal. But when he finally turned, he saw that while her eyes glistened with tears, she was smiling.

“I feel closer to them here,” she said, glancing up at the trees. “They spent their lives trying to figure out how to get us home.”

Wells didn’t know what he could say without breaking the spell, so instead, he leaned forward and kissed her, holding his breath until he saw her teardrop-tipped lashes flutter closed.

At first it was soft, his lips lightly brushing over her mouth, but then he felt her kiss him back, igniting every cell in his body. The familiarity of her touch, the taste of her kiss, released something in him, and he pulled her closer.

Clarke sank into Wells, her lips clinging to his lips, her skin melting into his skin, her breath mixing with his breath. The world around them faded away as Earth became nothing more than a swirl of pungent scents and damp air that made him press himself closer to her. The soft ground cradled them as they slid off the log. There was so much he needed to tell her, but his words were lost as his lips traveled across her skin, moving from her mouth to her neck.

In that moment, there was no one else. They were the only two people on Earth. Just like he’d always imagined they would be.

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