The 100

by Kass Morgan

  Glass winced. It was true that Luke had started seeing Camille while Glass was in Confinement. But she couldn’t blame him, not after the cruel things she’d said when she broke up with him in a desperate attempt to keep him safe.

  “Glass.” Sonja’s voice quivered with the strain of trying to remain calm. “I’m sorry to be harsh. But with the Chancellor still on life support, you need to be careful. If he wakes up and has any reason, any reason at all, to revoke your pardon, he will.” She sighed. “I can’t let you risk your life again. Have you already forgotten what happened last time?”

  But of course Glass hadnbly las>

  t forgotten. The memory of it was as permanent as the scars from the bracelet on her skin, something she would carry with her the rest of her life. And her mother didn’t even know the whole truth.

  Glass ignored the guards’ strange looks as she passed the checkpoint and began crossing the skybridge toward Walden. Let them think she was off to buy drugs if they wanted. No punishment they gave her could possibly hurt more than what she was about to do.

  It was late afternoon, and the corridors were thankfully empty. Luke would be back from his morning shift by now, but Carter would still be at the distribution center, where he worked sorting nutrition packets. Glass knew it was foolish—Carter hated her, and he would hate her even more once he found out that she had broken Luke’s heart—but she couldn’t bear to break up with Luke with Carter in the other room.

  She paused at the door, absently bringing her hand to her stomach. She had to do it now. She’d already put this off so many times. She’d muster the courage to break up with him, then hesitate as the terrible words rose to her mouth. Next time, she always promised herself. I just need to see him one more time.

  But now her stomach was growing noticeably rounder. Even on half rations, it was getting harder and harder for Glass to disguise her weight gain under the shapeless dresses that prompted snickers from Cora. Soon she would start to show. And once she did, there would be questions. The Council would demand to know who the father was. If she was still in touch with Luke, he would find out, and volunteer himself in some misguided attempt to save her that would only end in both of their deaths.

  You’re saving his life, Glass told herself as she knocked on the door, realizing that this was the last time she would ever stand in this spot. The last time she’d see Luke smile at her like she was the only girl in the universe. Her own words of encouragement sounded hollow to her ears.

  But when the door opened, it wasn’t Luke standing there. It was Carter, wearing nothing but a pair of plain work pants.

  “He’s not here,” he growled, his eyes narrowing as he took in her flushed cheeks.

  “Oh, sorry,” Glass said, taking an involuntary step back. “I’ll come back later.”

  But Carter surprised her by reaching out and grabbing her arm, his hand clamping painfully over her wrist.

  “What’s the hurry?” he asked with a sudden grin that made her stomach churn. “Come on in and wait. I’m sure he just got held up.”

  Glass winced, rubbing her wrist, as she followed Carter inside. She’d forgotten how tall he was.

  “Did you not have work today?” she asked in her most polite voice, perching on the edge of the couch where she and Luke usually sat. Her heart cramped as she realized she’d never be able to curl up against his shoulder again, or run her fingers through his curls as he lay with his head in her lap.

  aga size="-1">“I wasn’t in the mood,” Carter said with a careless shrug.

  “Oh,” Glass said, biting back a criticism. If Carter wasn’t careful, he’d get demoted yet again, and the only position below the distribution center was sanitation duty. “I’m sorry,” she added, because she wasn’t sure what else to say.

  “No, you’re not,” Carter said, taking a pull of an unmarked bottle. Glass wrinkled her nose. Black-market whiskey. “You’re just like all the other assholes on Phoenix. All you care about is yourself.”

  “You know what, I should be going,” Glass said, moving quickly across the living space toward the door. “Tell Luke I’ll see him later.”

  “Hold it,” Carter called. Glass ignored him and grabbed the handle without turning around, but before she could open the door, Carter reached over her shoulder and leaned forward to slam it shut.

  “Let me go,” Glass ordered, turning to face him.

  Carter’s grin widened, sending chills down Glass’s spine. “What’s the problem?” he asked, reaching down to rub his hands over her arms. “We both know how much you like slumming it down on Walden. Don’t pretend to be all choosy.”

  “What are you talking about?” Glass spat, wincing as she tried unsuccessfully to break his grip.

  He frowned, digging his fingers painfully into her arms. “You think you’re being so rebellious, sneaking around with Luke. But I’ve known plenty of Phoenix girls like you. You’re all the same.” Still holding one of her arms, he reached his other hand around and started to fumble with the waistband of her pants.

  “Stop,” Glass said, trying to push him away, horror spreading rapidly through her veins. Then, more loudly, “Stop it! Let me go!”

  “It’s okay,” Carter murmured, yanking her closer to him and wrenching her arms above her head. Glass tried to move away, but he weighed more than twice what she did and she couldn’t wriggle free. She thrashed around wildly, trying to jab her knee into his stomach, but she was trapped.

  “Don’t worry,” Carter said, filling her ear with his sour breath. “Luke won’t mind. He owes me this, after all I’ve done for him. Besides, we share everything.”

  Glass opened her mouth to scream, but Carter had pushed himself up against her chest, and there was no air in her lungs. Black spots danced before her vision, and she felt herself losing consciousness.

  Then the door opened, and Carter jumped back so quickly, Glass lost her balance and fell to the floor.

  “Glass?” Luke asked, stepping inside. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

  Glass tried to catch her breath, but before she had time to answer, Carter called out from the couch, where he was already reclined in an attitude of calculated carelessness, “Your girlfriend wasgirh her br just showing me the latest Phoenix dance move.” He snorted. “I think she needs a little more practice.”

  Luke tried to catch Glass’s gaze, but she looked away. Her heart thumped wildly with fear-fueled adrenaline and rage.

  “Sorry I was late—I got caught up talking to Bekah and Ali,” Luke said as he reached down to help her up, naming two of his friends from the engineering corps who had always been nice to Glass. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked quietly when she didn’t take his hand.

  After what had just happened, all she wanted to do was throw herself into Luke’s arms, to allow the warmth of his body to convince hers that everything was okay. But she’d come here for a reason. She couldn’t let him comfort her.

  “Are you okay? Should we go talk in my room?”

  Glass glanced over at Carter, summoning her anger and hatred for him to the surface, letting it boil her blood. She stood up.

  “I’m not going into your room,” she said, forcing an edge into her voice she didn’t recognize. “Ever again.”

  “What? What’s wrong?” Luke asked. He gently pulled on her hand but she snatched it away. “Glass?” The confusion in his voice was enough to make her heart throb.

  “It’s over,” she said, shocked at the coldness in her own voice. A strange numbness spread through her, as if her nerves were shutting down to protect her from the grief that would surely destroy her. “Did you really think it was going to last?”

  “Glass.” Luke’s voice was low and strained. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but could we continue this conversation in my room?” He reached out to place his hand on her arm, and she recoiled from his touch.

  “No.” She pretended to shudder in horror, looking away so that he couldn’t see the tears in her eyes. �
��I can’t believe I let you take me in there in the first place.”

  Luke fell silent, and Glass couldn’t help glancing back at him. He was staring at her, his eyes full of hurt. He had always worried that he wasn’t good enough for Glass—that he was keeping her from a better life on Phoenix. And now here she was, using the same fears she had once dismissed to turn Luke against her. “Is that really how you feel?” he asked finally. “I thought we—Glass, I love you,” he said helplessly.

  “I never loved you.” She forced the words out of her mouth with such intensity, they seemed to tear out her very soul. “Don’t you see? This was all just a game to me, seeing how long I could go on before I got caught. But I’m done now. I’m bored.”

  Luke reached up to take her chin, turning her face up so that their eyes met. She could feel him searching her for some sign that the real Glass was hidden deep inside. “You don’t mean that.” His voice cracked. “I don’t know what’s going on, but this isn’t you. Glass, talk to me. Please.”

  For a "-1ing onbrief moment, Glass wavered. She could tell him the truth. Of course he would understand; he would forgive all the terrible things she’d just said. She would lean her head on his shoulder and pretend that everything would be okay. They could face this together.

  But then she thought of Luke being executed—the lethal injection shutting down his body before it was released into the cold emptiness of space.

  The only way to save Luke’s heart was to break it.

  “You don’t even know me,” she said, jerking away from his touch, the pain of her grief slicing sharp and hot through her chest. “Here,” she finished, blinking back tears as she reached behind her neck to unhook the clasp of her locket. “I don’t want this anymore.”

  As she dropped it into Luke’s hand he stared at her wordlessly, shock and hurt etched in sharp lines across his face.

  She was only vaguely aware of running out of the door and slamming it shut, and then she was racing down the hall, concentrating on the thud of her steps across the skybridge. Left, right, left, right. Just get home, Glass told herself. Just get home, and then you can cry.

  But the moment she turned the corner, she staggered and slid to the floor, both hands clutching her stomach. “I’m sorry,” Glass whispered softly, uncertain whether she was speaking to the baby, or Luke, or her own bruised and damaged heart.

  ʀublishe

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  CHAPTER 21

  Clarke

  The tension in the infirmary tent was so thick, Clarke could practically feel it pressing against her chest when she breathed.

  She hovered wordlessly at Thalia’s side, trying in vain to battle the infection that had already claimed her kidneys and seemed hell-bent on taking her liver next, seething in silent fury at Octavia’s selfishness. How could she sit there, watching Thalia slip in and out of consciousness, and not return the stolen medicine?

  But then she glanced over to the corner, where Octavia lay curled up. The sight of her round cheeks and thick lashes made her look painfully young, and Clarke’s anger was replaced by doubt and guilt. Maybe Octavia hadn’t done it. But if not, who had?

  Her eyes lowered to the bracelet that encased her wrist. If Thalia could just hold on until the next wave of colonists arrived, she’d be okay. But there was no knowing when that would be. The Council would wait until they had conclusive data on the radiation levels, regardless of what was happening on Earth.

  Thalia’s death, she knew, would matter as little to the Council as Lilly’s had. Orphans and criminals didn’t count.

  As she watched Thalia’s labored breathing, Clarke felt a surge of white-hot fury. She refused to sit here and just wait for her friend to die. Hadn’t humans cured illnesses for millennia before the discovery of penicillin? There had to be something in the woods that fought infection. She tried to remember what little she’d learned about plants in Biology of Earth class. Who knew if those plants were even around anymore—everything seemed tnt siess, o have evolved strangely after the Cataclysm. But she had to at least try.

  “I’ll be back,” she whispered to her sleeping friend. Without a word to the Arcadian boy standing guard outside, Clarke hurried out of the infirmary and began to walk toward the trees, not bothering to grab anything from the supply tent lest she attract any unwanted attention. But she didn’t manage to go more than ten meters without a familiar voice scratching at her eardrums.

  “Where are you going?” Wells asked as he fell in step next to her.

  “Looking for medicinal plants.” She was too tired to lie to Wells, and it didn’t matter anyway; he always saw through her lies. Somehow, the self-righteousness that blinded him to the most glaring truths didn’t prevent him from reading the secrets in her eyes.

  “I’ll come with you.

  ” “I’m fine on my own, thanks,” Clarke said, increasing her pace, as if that could possibly deter the boy who’d traveled across the solar system to be with her. “You stay here in case they need someone to lead an angry mob.”

  “You’re right. Things got a little out of hand last night,” he said with a frown. “I didn’t mean for anything bad to happen to Octavia. I only wanted to help. I know you need that medicine for Thalia.”

  “You only wanted to help. I’ve heard that one before.” Clarke whipped around to face Wells. She didn’t have the time or the energy to deal with his need for redemption right now. “Guess what, Wells. Someone ended up Confined this time too.”

  Wells stopped in his tracks, and Clarke jerked her head away, unable to look at the hurt in his eyes. But she refused to let him make her feel guilty. Nothing she could say to him could begin to approximate the pain he’d caused her.

  Clarke stared straight ahead as she strode into the trees, still half expecting to hear the thud of footsteps behind her. But this time there was only silence.

  By the time she reached the creek, the fury Clarke had carried into the woods had been replaced by despair. The scientist in her was mortified by her own naïveté. It was foolish to think that she would somehow recognize a plant from a class she’d taken six years ago, let alone that it would even look the same after all this time. But she refused to turn back, restrained partly by her own stubborn pride and partly by a desire to avoid Wells for as long as possible.

  It was too chilly to wade through the water, so she climbed up the slope and walked along the ridge to cross over to the other side. This was the farthest she’d ever been from camp, and it felt different out here; the air even tasted somehow different than it did closer to the clearing. She closed her eyes, hoping that it would help her identify the strange swirl of scents that she had no words to describe. It was like trying to recall a memory that hadn’t been hers to begin with.

  The ground was flatter here than she’d seen elsewhere in the woods. Up ahead, the gap between the trees grew even wider, and the trees themselves seemed to part into straight lines on either side, as if they could sense Clarke’s presence and had stood aside to let her pass.

  Clarke started to pull a star-shaped leaf from a tree, then froze as a glint of light caught her eye. Something nestled in between two enormous trees was reflecting the fading sunlight.

  She sihis took another step forward, her heart racing.

  It was a window.

  Clarke began walking toward it slowly, feeling as though she were moving through one of her own dreams. The window was framed by two trees, which must have grown out of the ruins of the structure, whatever it had been. But the glass wasn’t clear. As she got closer, she saw that the window was actually made from different pieces of colored glass that had been arranged to create an image, although there were too many cracks to tell what it had once been.

  She reached forward and gently brushed her finger against the glass, shivering as the cold seeped into her fingers. It was like touching a corpse. For a moment, she found herself wishing Wells was with her. No matter how angry she was with him, she’d never depr
ive him of the chance to see one of the ruins he’d spent his whole life dreaming about.

  She turned and walked around one of the large trees. There was another window, but this one had been smashed, sharp fragments of glass glittering on the ground. Clarke stepped forward and crouched down to peer inside. The jagged opening was almost large enough to crawl through. The sun was only beginning to set, and the orange rays seemed to shine right into the opening, revealing what looked like a wooden floor. Every instinct in Clarke’s brain was shouting at her to keep away, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

  Taking care not to let her skin touch the glass, Clarke reached her arm through the opening of the window and brushed her hand against the wood. Nothing happened. She clenched her fingers into a fist and rapped on it, coughing as a cloud of dust rose into the air. It felt solid. She paused, considering. The building had survived this long. Surely the floor would be able to hold her weight.

  Carefully, she slid one leg through the opening, then the other. She held her breath, but nothing happened.

  When she looked up and around her, Clarke sucked in her breath.

  The walls soared on all sides, converging in a point many meters above her head, higher than even the roof above the solar fields. It wasn’t as dark as she’d expected. There were windows along the other wall that she hadn’t been able to see. These were made of clear glass, but they weren’t broken. Beams of sunlight shone through, illuminating millions of dust particles dancing through the air.

  Clark rose slowly to her feet. There was a railing up ahead that ran parallel to the floor at about waist height. She took a few hesitant steps toward it and gasped, startling herself again as the sound echoed far above her head.

  She was standing on a balcony overlooking an enormous open space. It was almost completely dark, probably because most of the building was now underground, but she could just make out the outline of benches. She didn’t dare venture any closer to the edge for a better look, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, more shapes sharpened into focus.