Текст книги "The 100 / The Hundred"

Автор книги: Кэсс Морган

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

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CHAPTER 10

Bellamy

It was crazy how much their surroundings could change throughout the day. In the mornings, everything felt crisp and new. Even the air had a sharpness to it. Yet in the afternoon, the light mellowed and the colors softened. That’s what Bellamy liked best about Earth so far—the unexpectedness. Like a girl who kept you guessing. He’d always been drawn to the ones he couldn’t quite figure out.

Laughter rose up from the far side of the clearing. Bellamy turned to see two girls perched on a low tree branch, giggling as they swatted at the boy attempting to climb up and join them. Nearby, a bunch of Walden boys were playing a game of keep-away with an Arcadian girl’s shoe, the owner ^27">< absorof which was laughing as she skidded barefoot across the grass. For a moment, he felt a twinge of regret that Octavia still wasn’t well enough to join in—she’d had so little fun in her life. But then again, it was probably best that she didn’t form any real attachments. As soon as her ankle healed, she and Bellamy would be off for good.

Bellamy tore open a crumpled nutrition pack, squeezed half the contents into his mouth, then slipped the carefully folded wrapper back into his pocket. After sorting through the remainder of the wreckage, they’d discovered what they’d all feared: The few weeks’ worth of nutrition packets they’d found when they first landed was all they’d been sent with. Either the Council had assumed the hundred would figure out how to live off the land after a month… or they didn’t plan on them surviving that long.

Graham had strong-armed most people into handing over any packs they’d salvaged and had supposedly put an Arcadian named Asher in charge of distributing them, but there was already a fledgling black market; people were trading nutrition packs for blankets and taking on extra water shifts in exchange for reserved spots inside the crowded tents. Wells had spent the day trying to get everyone to agree to a more formal system, and while some people had seemed interested, it hadn’t taken Graham long to shut him down.

Bellamy turned as the laughter at the short end of the clearing gave way to shouts.

“Give that to me!” one of the Waldenites cried, trying to wrench something away from another. As Bellamy hurried over, he realized it was an ax. The first boy was holding the handle with both hands and was trying to swing it out of reach while the second boy attempted to grab on to the blade.

Others began to descend on the boys, but instead of pulling them apart, they darted between the trees, scooping items into their arms. Tools were scattered on the ground—more axes, knives, even spears. Bellamy smiled as his eyes landed on a bow and arrow.

Just this morning, he’d found animal prints—goddamn real tracks, leading into the trees. His discovery had caused a huge commotion. At one point, there’d been at least three dozen people gathered around, all making intelligent, helpful observations like It’s probably not a birdand It looks like it has four legs. Finally, Bellamy had been the one to point out that they were hooves, not paws, which meant that it was probably an herbivore, and therefore something they could conceivably catch and eat. He’d just been waiting for something to hunt with, and now, in his first stroke of good luck on Earth, he had it. Hopefully he and Octavia would be long gone before the nutrition packets ran out, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Hold it, everyone,” a voice rang out over the crowd. Bellamy glanced up as Wells reached the tree line. “We can’t just let random people carry weapons. We need to sort and organize these, and thendecide who should have them.”

A flurry of snorts and defiant glares rose up from the crowd.

“That guy took the Chancellor hostage,” Wells went on, pointing at Bellamy, who’d already swung the bow and arrows over his shoulder. “Who knows what else he’s capable of. You want someone like himwalking around carrying a deadly weapon?” Wells raised his chin. “We should at least put it to a vote.”

Bellamy couldn’t help but laugh. Who the hell did this kid think he was, anyway? He reached down, picked a knife up off the ground, and began walking toward Wells.

Wells stood his ground, and cs gd cs gd Bellamy wondered if he was trying not to flinch, or if maybe Wells was less of a pushover than Bellamy had thought. Just when it seemed like he might stab Wells in the chest, Bellamy flipped the weapon so that the handle faced Wells, and pushed it into his hand.

“Breaking news, pretty boy.” Bellamy winked. “We’re all criminals here.”

But before he had time to respond, Graham sauntered over. As he looked from Wells to Bellamy, a wry smile flickered across his face.

“I agree with the right honorable mini-Chancellor,” Graham said. “We should lock up the weapons.”

Bellamy took a step back. “What? And put you in charge of those as well?” He ran his finger along the bow. “No way. I’m ready to hunt.”

Graham snorted. “And what exactly did you hunt back on Walden except for girls with low standards and even lower self-esteem?”

Bellamy stiffened but didn’t say anything. It was a waste of time to rise to Graham’s bait, but he could feel his fingers clenching.

“Or maybe you don’t even have to chase after them,” Graham continued. “I suppose that’s the benefit to having a sister.”

With a sickening crunch, Bellamy’s fist sank into Graham’s jaw. Graham staggered back a few steps, too stunned to raise his arms before Bellamy landed another punch. Then he righted himself and struck Bellamy with a powerful, well-aimed shot to the chin. Bellamy lunged forward with a growl, using his whole body weight to send Graham flying backward. He landed on the grass with a heavy thud, but just when Bellamy was about to deliver a swift kick, Graham rolled to the side and knocked Bellamy’s legs out from under him.

Bellamy thrashed around, trying to sit up in time to gain leverage over his opponent, but it was too late. Graham had him pinned to the ground and was holding something just above his face, something that glinted in the sun. A knife.

“That’s enough,” Wells shouted. He grabbed Graham by the collar and flung him off Bellamy, who rolled over onto his side, wheezing.

“What the hell?” Graham bellowed, scrambling to his feet.

Bellamy winced as he rose onto his knees and then slowly stood up and walked over to pick up the bow. He shot a quick glance at Graham, who was too busy glaring at Wells to notice.

“Just because the Chancellor used to tuck you into bed doesn’t mean you’re automatically in charge,” Graham spat. “I don’t care what Daddy told you before we left.”

“I have no interest in being in charge.I just want to make sure we don’t die.”

Graham exchanged a glance with Asher. “If that’s your concern, then I suggest you mind your own business.” He reached down and scooped up the knife. “We wouldn’t want there to be any accidents.”

“That’s not how we’re going to do things here,” Wells said, holding his ground.

“Yeah?” Graham raised his eyebrows. “And what makes you think you have any say over that?”

“Because I’m not an idiot. But if you’re anxious to become the first thug to try to kill someone on Earth in centuries, be my guest.”

Bellamy exhaled as he crossed the clearing toward the area where he’d seen the animal tracks. He didn’t need to get pulled into a pissing contest, not when there was food to find. He c tord the aswung the bow over his shoulder and stepped into the woods.

As he’d learned at a young age, if you wanted to get something done, you had to do it yourself.

Bellamy had been eight years old during the first visit.

His mother hadn’t been home, but she’d told him exactly what to do. The guards rarely inspected their unit. Many of them had grown up nearby, and while the recruits liked showing off their uniforms and hassling their former rivals, investigating their neighbors’ flats felt like crossing the line. But it was obvious the officer in charge of this regiment wasn’t a local. It wasn’t just his snooty accent. It was the way he’d looked around their tiny flat with a mixture of surprise and disgust, like he couldn’t imagine human beings living there.

He’d come in without knocking while Bellamy had been trying to clean the breakfast dishes. They only had running water a few hours a day, generally while his mother was working in the solar fields. Bellamy was so startled, he dropped the cup he was cleaning and watched in horror as it bounced on the floor and rolled toward the closet.

The officer’s eyes darted back and forth as he read something off his cornea slip. “Bellamy Blake?” he said in his weird Phoenix accent that made it sound like his mouth was full of nutrition paste. Bellamy nodded slowly. “Is your mother home?”

“No,” he said, working hard to keep his voice steady, just like he’d practiced.

Another guard stepped through the door. After a nod from the officer, he began asking questions in a dull, flat tone that suggested he’d given the same speech a dozen times already that day.

“Do you have more than three meals’ worth of food in your residence?” he droned. Bellamy shook his head. “Do you have an energy source other than…”

Bellamy’s heart was beating so loudly, it seemed to drown out the guard’s voice. Although his mother had drilled him countless times, practicing any number of scenarios, he never imagined the way the officer’s eyes would move around their flat. When his eyes landed on the dropped cup then moved to the closet, Bellamy thought his chest was going to explode.

“Are you going to answer his question?”

Bellamy looked up and saw both men staring at him. The officer was scowling impatiently, and the other guard just looked bored.

Bellamy started to apologize, but his “Sorry” came out like a wheeze.

“Do you have any permanent residents other than the two people registered for this unit?”

Bellamy took a deep breath. “No,” he said, forcing the word out. He finally remembered to affect the annoyed expression his mother had him practice in the mirror.

The officer raised one eyebrow. “So sorry to have wasted your time,” he said with mock cordiality. With a final glance around the flat, he strode out, followed by the guard, who sla cuarry to hmmed the door shut behind him.

Bellamy sank to his knees, too terrified to answer the question rattling through his mind: What would have happened if they’d looked in the closet?

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CHAPTER 11

Glass

As she trailed behind Cora and Huxley on their way to the Exchange, Glass found herself wishing that her mother had waited a few more days before spreading the news of her pardon. At first, she’d been overjoyed to see her friends. When they’d walked through her door that morning, all three girls had burst into sobs. But now, watching Cora and Huxley exchange knowing smiles as they passed a boy Glass didn’t recognize, she felt more alone than she ever had in her cell.

“I bet you have a ton of points saved up,” Huxley said as she wrapped her arm around Glass. “I’m jealous.”

“All I have is what my mother transferred to me this morning.” Glass gave her a weak smile. “The rest were eliminated after my arrest.”

Huxley shuddered dramatically. “I still can’t believe it.” She lowered her voice. “You never did tell us why you were Confined.”

“She doesn’t want to talk about that,” Cora said as she glanced nervously over her shoulder.

No,you don’t want to talk about that, Glass thought as they turned onto the main B deck corridor, a long, wide passage bordered by panoramic windows on one side and benches tucked between artificial plants on the other. It was midday, and most of the benches were occupied by women her mother’s age talking and sipping sunflower root tea. Technically, you were supposed to use ration points at the tea stand, but Glass couldn’t remember the last time she’d been asked to scan her thumb. It was just one of the many small luxuries of life on Phoenix that she’d never given a second thought until she started spending time with Luke.

As the girls strode down the corridor, Glass could feel nearly every pair of eyes turn to her. Her stomach twisted as she wondered what had been more shocking—the fact that she’d been Confined or the fact that she’d been pardoned. She held her head up high and tried to look confident as she walked past. Glass was supposed to be an example of the Colony’s sense of justice, and she would have to keep face as though her life depended on it. Because this time, it did.

“Do you think there’s any chance Clarke will get pardoned too?” Huxley asked as Cora shot her a warning look. “Did you guys ever like, hang out, while you were in Confinement?”

“Oh my god, Huxley, will you give it a rest?” Cora said, touching Glass’s arm in a supportive gesture. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s just that, when Clarke was sentenced just after you, nobody could believe it: two Phoenix girls in a few months? And then when you came back, there were all these rumors.…”

“It’s fine,” Glass said, forcing a smile to signal that she was okay talking about it. “Clarke got put into solitary pretty quickly, so I didn’t see her much. And I don’t know whether she’ll be pardoned,” she lied, remembering her mom’s imperative that she not talk about the Earth mission. “I’m not sure when she turns eighteen—my case was reevaluated since it’s almost my birthday.”

“Oh, ri fyway?strodght, your birthday!” Huxley squealed, clapping her hands. “I forgot it’s coming up. We’ll have to find you something at the Exchange.”

Cora nodded, seeming overjoyed to have found their way back to such an acceptable topic, as the girls approached their destination.

The Phoenix Exchange was in a large hall at the end of B deck. In addition to panoramic windows, it held an enormous chandelier that had supposedly been evacuated from the Paris Opera house hours before the first bomb fell on Western Europe. Whenever Glass heard the tale, she felt a twinge of sadness for the people who might’ve been saved instead, but she couldn’t deny that the chandelier was breathtaking. Dancing with reflected light from the ceiling and the windows, it looked like a small cluster of stars, a miniature galaxy spinning and shimmering overhead.

Huxley let go of Glass’s arm and dashed over to a display of ribbons, oblivious to the nearby group of girls who’d fallen silent at Glass’s arrival. Glass blushed and hurried after Cora, whose eyes were trained on a textile booth near the back wall.

She stood awkwardly next to Cora while her friend rummaged through the fabric, quickly reducing the orderly stack into a messy pile while the Walden woman behind the table gave her a tight smile. “Look at all this crap,” Cora muttered as she flung a piece of burlap and a few strips of fleece to the side.

“What are you looking for?” Glass asked, running her finger along a tiny scrap of pale-pink silk. It was beautiful, even with the rust marks and water stains along the edges, but it would be impossible to find enough matching pieces for a small evening bag, let alone a dress.

“I’ve spent a million years collecting scraps of blue satin, and I finally have enough for the slip, but I need to layer something over it so it doesn’t look too patchworky.” Cora wrinkled her nose as she examined a large piece of clear vinyl. “How much is this?”

“Six,” the Walden woman said.

“You’re not serious.” Cora rolled her eyes at Glass. “It’s a shower curtain.”

“It’s Earthmade.”

Cora snickered. “Authenticated by who?”

“How about this?” Glass asked, holding up a piece of blue netting. It looked like it had once been part of a storage bag, but no one would be able to tell once it was applied to the dress.

“Oooh,” Cora cooed, snatching it out of Glass’s hand. “I like it.” She held it against her body to check the length, then smiled up at Glass. “Good thing your time in Confinement didn’t affect your fashion sense.” Glass stiffened but said nothing. “So, what are you going to wear?”

“To what?”

“To the viewing party,” she said, enunciating her syllables as one might do with a small child. “For the comet?”

“Sorry.” Glass shrugged. Apparently, spending six months in Confinement was no excuse for failing to keep up with the Phoenix social calendar.

“Your mother didn’t tell you about it when you got back?” Cora continued, holding the netting around her waist like a petticoat. “There’s a comet on track to pass right by the ship—the closest any has come since the Colony was founded.”

“And there’s a viewing party?”

Cora nodded. “On the observation deck. They’ve been making all sorts of exceptions so there konsoman saidcan be food, drinks, music, everything. I’m going with Vikram.” She grinned, but then her face fell. “I’m sure he won’t mind if you come along. He knows there are, well, extenuating circumstances.” She gave Glass a sympathetic smile and turned back to the Walden woman. “How much?”

“Nine.”

Suddenly, Glass’s head began to pound. She murmured an excuse to Cora, who was still negotiating with the shopkeeper, and wandered off to look at the display of jewelry on a nearby table. She brushed her fingers absently along her bare throat. She’d always worn a necklace chip, the device some girls on Phoenix chose as an alternative to earbuds or cornea slips. It was fashionable to have the chip embedded in a piece of jewelry, if you were lucky enough to have a relic in the family or managed to find something at the Exchange.

Her eyes traveled over the glittering assemblage and a glint of gold caught her eye—an oval locket on a delicate chain. Glass inhaled sharply as a wave of pain crashed over her, filling every inch of her body with a throbbing mix of grief and sorrow. She knew she should turn away and keep walking, but she couldn’t help it.

Glass reached out a trembling arm and picked up the necklace. The outline blurred as tears filled her eyes. She ran her finger carefully over the carving in the back, knowing without having to look that it was an ornate cursive G.

“Are you sure you don’t mind spending your birthday on Walden?” Luke asked, leaning his head back next to hers on the couch. The look of concern on his face was so sincere, it almost made her laugh. “How many times do I have to tell you?” Glass swung her legs up so they were lying across Luke’s. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“But didn’t your mom want to throw you some fancy party?” Glass rested her head on her shoulder. “Yes, but what’s the point if you can’t be there?”

“I don’t want you giving up your whole life just because I can’t be a part of it.” Luke ran his fingers down Glass’s arm, suddenly serious. “Do you ever wish we hadn’t stopped you that night?”

As a member of the prestigious mechanical engineering unit, Luke wasn’t normally assigned to checkpoint duty, but he’d been called in one evening when Glass had been hurrying back from studying with Wells.

“Are you kidding?” She raised her head to kiss his cheek. The taste of his skin was enough to make her whole body tingle, and she moved her lips down, tracing the line of his jaw up to his ear. “Breaking curfew that night was the best decision I’ve ever made,” she whispered, smiling as he shuddered slightly.

The curfew wasn’t strictly enforced on Phoenix, but she’d been stopped by a pair of guards. One of them had given Glass a hard time, forcing her to provide a thumb scan and then asking hostile questions. Eventually, the other guard had stepped in and insisted on escorting Glass the rest of the way.

“Walking you home was the best decision I ever made,” he murmured. “Although it was torture trying to keep myself from kissing you that night.”

“Well, then, we’d better make up for lost time now,” Glass teased, moving her lips back to his. Her kisses grew mo kiss a part ofre urgent as he placed his hand on the back of her head and wove his fingers through her hair. Glass shifted until she was sitting mostly in Luke’s lap, feeling his other arm move down to her waist to keep her from falling.

“I love you,” he whispered in her ear. No matter how many times she heard the words, they never ceased to make her shiver.

She pulled away just long enough to breathe, “I love you too,” then kissed him again, running her hand lightly down his side and then resting her fingers on the sliver of skin between his shirt and his belt.

“We should take a break,” Luke said, gently pushing her hand to the side. Over the past few weeks, it’d become increasingly difficult to keep things from progressing too far.

“I don’t want to.” Glass gave him a coy smile and returned her lips to his ear. “And it’s my birthday.”

Luke laughed, then groaned as he rose to his feet with Glass in his arms.

“Put me down!” Glass giggled, kicking her feet in the air. “What are you doing?”

Luke took a few steps forward. “Taking you to the Exchange. I’m trading you in for a girl who won’t try so hard to get me in trouble.”

“Hey.” She huffed with mock indignation, then started pounding her fists into his chest. “Put me down!”

He turned away from the door. “Are you going to behave yourself?”

“What? It’s not my fault you’re too hot to keep my hands off of.”

“Glass,” he warned.

“Fine. Yes, I promise.” “Good.” He walked back to the couch and laid her gently back down. “Because it’d be a shame if I couldn’t give you your present.”

“What is it?” Glass asked, pushing herself up into a seated position.

“A chastity belt,” Luke said gravely. “For me. I found it at the Exchange. It cost a fortune, but it’s worth it to protect—”

Glass smacked him in the chest. Luke laughed and wrapped his arms around her. “Sorry,” he said with a grin. He reached into his pocket then paused. “It’s not wrapped or anything.”

“That’s okay.”

He pulled something out of his pocket and extended his arm toward her. A gold locket glittered on his palm.

“Luke, it’s beautiful,” Glass whispered, reaching out to take the locket. Her eyes widened as her fingers ran along its delicate edges. “This is Earthmade.” She looked up at him in surprise.

He nodded. “Yes, at least, it’s supposed to be, according to the records.” He picked it up out of her kp o">

Glass nodded, and Luke stepped behind her to fasten the clasp. She shivered at the touch of his hand on her neck as he brushed her hair to the side. She could only imagine how much something like this cost—Luke must have used his entire savings on it. Even as a guard, he didn’t have many ration points to spare. “I love it,” Glass said, running her finger along the chain as she turned to face him.

His smile lit up his whole face. “I’m so glad.” Luke ran his hand down her neck and turned the locket over, revealing a G etched into the gold.

“Did you do that?” Glass asked.

Luke nodded. “Even in a thousand years, I want people to know that it belonged to you.” He pressed his finger against the locket, pushing the metal against her skin. “Now you just have to fill it with your own memories.”

Glass smiled. “I know what memory I want to start with.” She looked up, expecting to see Luke roll his eyes, but his face was serious. Their eyes met, and for a long moment, the flat was silent except for the sound of their beating hearts.

“Are you sure?” Luke asked, his brow furrowing slightly as he ran a finger along the inside of her arm.

“More sure than I’ve been of anything in my life.”

Luke took Glass’s hand, and a current of electricity shot through her. He squeezed his fingers around hers and, without a word, led her toward his bedroom.

Of course he’d traded it, Glass told herself. It’d be ridiculous to keep such a valuable item, especially after she’d broken his heart. Yet the thought of her discarded necklace languishing alone in the Exchange unleashed a pang of grief that threatened to rip her heart in two. A prickle on the back of her neck pulled Glass from her thoughts. She braced herself, expecting to see another vague acquaintance staring at her with open suspicion. But when she turned around, her eyes landed on someone else entirely.

Luke.

He stared at her just long enough for Glass to blush, then broke away as his eyes flitted toward the table. An odd expression crossed his face as his gaze landed on the necklace. “I’m surprised no one’s snatched it up yet,” he said quietly. “It’s so beautiful.” His arm dropped back to his side, and he turned around to give her a small, sad smile. “But then again, the beautiful ones can hurt you the most.”

“Luke,” Glass began, “I—” But then she noticed a familiar figure behind Luke. Camille stood behind the counter of the paper texts stall, her eyes fixed on Glass.

Luke glanced over his shoulder and then turned back to Glass. “Camille’s covering for her father. He’s been sick.”

“I’m sorry,” Glass said. But before she had time to say anything else, she was distracted by the sound of raised voices.

Glass turned and saw Cora shouting at the Walden woman. “If you refuse to charge me a reasonable price, then I’ll have no choice but to report you for fraud.” The woman paled and said something Glass couldn’t hear, but apparently, it was to Cora’s liking, because she smiled a k shn two. A nd held her thumb up to be scanned.

Glass grimaced, embarrassed by her friend’s behavior. “Sorry—I should go.”

“Don’t,” Luke pleaded, touching her arm. “I’ve been worried about you.” He lowered his voice. “What are you doing here? Is it safe?”

The concern in his voice filled some of the smaller cracks in her battered heart, but not enough to make the pain go away. “It’s safe. I was pardoned, actually,” Glass said, trying hard to keep her voice steady.

“Pardoned?” His eyes widened. “Wow. I never thought… That’s incredible.” He paused, as if unsure how to go on. “You know, you never told me why you were Confined in the first place.”

Glass cast her eyes toward the ground, fighting an overwhelming urge to tell Luke the truth. He deserves to be happy, she reminded herself firmly. Hes not yours anymore.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said finally. “I just want to put it all behind me.”

Luke stared at her, and for a moment Glass wondered if he could see straight through her. “Well, take care of yourself,” he said finally.

Glass nodded. “I will.” She knew she was doing the right thing, for once. She just wished it didn’t hurt so much.

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