by Kass Morgan
Bellamy didn’t even have the strength to be angry anymore. He only cared about Octavia, Clarke, and Wells. If it weren’t for them, he wouldn’t care if he lived or died, if he was executed or set free to live alone in the woods. But what would happen to his sister if he were killed? Who would look after her once he was gone? The hundred had formed a community, but now that Rhodes and all the others were here, all bets were off. He couldn’t be sure anyone would look out for his kid sister when they were all busy looking out for themselves. Just like everyone else had been back on the ship.
A loud thud against the side of the cabin made Bellamy jerk to the side—which sent shooting pain through his upper body. “Jesus,” he grunted. Then he heard scuffling, followed by loud voices. One familiar voice rose above the rest: It was Wells.
“Put the shackles on,” Wells said in a voice Bellamy had never heard before, low and menacing. “Do it now,” he snapped, “and don’t make a sound. If you do so much as open your mouth, I’ll shoot you.” And although it contradicted everything Bellamy knew about his half brother, it sounded like Wells meant it.
Shit, Bellamy thought. Mini-Chancellor is starting to sound like a mini–Vice Chancellor.
There was silence as, presumably, the guard complied with Wells’s order. A few seconds later, two figures burst through the cabin door—a stony-faced, iron-jawed Wells and a flushed, rapidly-breathing Clarke. They fell into the room and rushed over to him, as Bellamy’s head swam with confusion and relief. Were they actually here to rescue him? How the hell had they managed that?
Bellamy’s chest swelled with a feeling he’d never really known before—gratitude. No one had ever done anything this dangerous for him, no one had ever thought he was worth that kind of risk. He’d spent his whole life taking reckless action to protect Octavia, but no one had ever done so much as transfer him a ration point or sneak out past curfew to check on him the few times he’d gotten sick.
Yet here they were, the girl he never would’ve dared dream about back on the ship, and the brother he never knew existed, putting their lives on the line for him.
Clarke sank to her knees next to him. “Bellamy,” she said, her voice cracking as she ran her hand along his cheek. “Are you okay?” She’d never sounded so afraid, so fragile. Yet there was nothing vulnerable about a girl who’d face down a clearing full of armed guards.
Bellamy nodded, then winced as Wells tugged on the cuffs attached to the peg on the wall. “How are you going to get those off?” Bellamy asked, his voice hoarse. The guard outside would alert the others any second. If they didn’t get out of there fast, not a single one of them would live to see another sunset.
“Don’t worry,” Wells said. “She has the key.”
Clarke reached into her pocket and pulled out a slim key, made of the same flexible metal as the cuffs.
“How the hell did you—you know what? Forget it. I don’t want to know,” Bellamy said. “Just get them off.”
Wells took the key from Clarke and began fumbling with the restraints while Clarke switched back into doctor mode and quickly examined his shoulder, muttering to herself as she peeled back the blood-stained bandage. Bellamy couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her brow was furrowed in concentration and a thin sheen of sweat misted her face, but she’d never looked more beautiful.
“Got it,” Wells said as the cuffs sprang open. “Let’s go.” He reached down, wrapped an arm behind Bellamy, and hauled him to his feet. Clarke slipped under Bellamy’s other arm, and helped him hurry across the cabin. When they reached the door, Clarke held up her hand and signaled for them to wait while she listened for sounds outside. At first, Bellamy wasn’t sure what they were waiting for, but then he heard it. A loud crash and series of cries echoed from the far side of the clearing, followed by shouts of “We’re under attack!” and “Guards—fall in!”
A stampede of heavy footsteps thudded past the cabin, toward the commotion.
Clarke turned to Wells and grinned. “She did it! Go, Sasha.”
“What’d she do?” Bellamy asked as he leaned a little harder on Wells. He hadn’t walked in days, and his muscles felt like jelly.
“She rigged up something in the trees to make it sound like the Earthborns were attacking the camp. If everything goes according to plan, Rhodes will have sent all the guards into the woods, and we’ll be able to sneak out the other side.”
“Your girl’s pretty badass, Wells,” Bellamy said with a weak smile. “Will she be okay?”
“She’ll be fine. She’s far enough out in the woods that they’ll never get to her in time.”
Clarke listened at the door for another moment, then waved at them urgently. “Let’s move.”
They slipped out the door. The coast was clear—everyone in camp was facing the other direction or racing toward the commotion on the far side. Bellamy, Clarke, and Wells hurried around the back of the cabin and, before anyone could notice they were gone, disappeared into the cover of the woods.
CHAPTER 14
Wells
There was no sound except the sharp intake of breath and the crunch of twigs and dried leaves under their feet. Wells, Bellamy, and Clarke had run until their sides cramped, eventually slowing to a walk. Wells glanced over his shoulder to check on Bellamy, whose shoulder was clearly hurting him, although he refused to complain, and who seemed much more anxious about Octavia than he was about his injury.
“You’re sure she doesn’t think I abandoned her?” Bellamy said as he allowed Clarke to help him step over a moss-covered log blocking their path.
“Positive,” Wells said, glad he could provide at least that modicum of comfort. “We told her the plan, and she agreed that it was better for someone to remain at the camp and keep tabs on Rhodes for a while.”
“She would’ve come if it weren’t for the kids,” Clarke chimed in. “She’s the only one who’s looking after them. It’s really amazing, what she’s done.”
Wells watched as pride momentarily chased away the fear in Bellamy’s face. “I always knew she had it in her.”
“Where did Sasha say she’d meet us?” Clarke asked, scanning the trees nervously. Although she and Bellamy had stumbled across Mount Weather once before, Wells knew neither of them were confident about finding it again.
“She’ll find us,” Wells said.
There was a rustling in the tree ahead of them, and a moment later, a figure dropped down from the branches, landing silently on her feet.
“Okay, that was kinda creepy,” Wells said with a grin as Sasha walked toward them. He still hadn’t gotten used to how Sasha managed to blend in with her surroundings. It was almost as if she changed color, like the lizards he’d read about when he was a kid. But she didn’t, of course—it was something about the way she breathed, her stillness. She just became part of the woods.
He pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her long dark hair that always smelled like rain and cedar. “Thank you for your help,” he said, cupping his hand under her chin and raising it for a kiss. “That was amazing.”
“Does that mean it worked?” Sasha asked, breaking away to look from Wells to Clarke and Bellamy.
“It worked perfectly,” Wells said.
“So what’s the plan now?” Bellamy asked, clearly in pain. His face was pale, and his breathing had grown ragged.
“I’m taking you all back to Mount Weather with me,” Sasha said. “You can stay there as long as you need.”
“They won’t mind?” Bellamy asked, looking nervously from Clarke to Sasha.
Sasha shook her head. “As long as you’re with me, it’ll be fine,” she assured him.
“We shouldn’t stop for long,” Wells said, his voice strained. “Once they realize you’re missing, they’re going to come after us.”
“Bel, are you okay to keep moving?” Clarke asked gently.
“I’m good,” he said, though he wouldn’t meet Clarke’s eye.
They followed Sasha as she darted, quickly and quie
tly, through the darkening forest. “So are you all right?” Sasha asked when they were a few meters ahead of Clarke and Bellamy. With the rush to free Bellamy, he and Sasha had barely had time to talk about anything besides the actual logistics.
“I don’t know.” That was the truth. It’d all happened so quickly, he hadn’t had time to process the implications of disobeying Rhodes, of leaving the camp. Wells certainly wasn’t going to stand by and watch Rhodes execute his brother in cold blood. But it was still hard to fathom that they’d been forced to leave their new home behind—the home, the community, that they had built with their bare hands, from nothing.
“It won’t be forever. As soon as your father gets better, he’ll come down on one of the other dropships and everything will be okay.”
“No, it won’t. Sasha, my dad’s in a coma, and there aren’t extra dropships just lying around.” His tone was sharp and bitter, but he didn’t care. This wasn’t a situation he could count on anyone to fix. He’d been an idiot to trust Rhodes. He should’ve acted sooner, before everything spiraled out of control.
Another girl might’ve been hurt—or worse, apologized as if she’d done something wrong. But Sasha just took Wells’s hand and gave it a squeeze. It was deeply unfair. Bellamy had only been trying to save his sister. He hadn’t even been the one to pull the trigger—one of Rhodes’s own precious guards had done that. Besides, it was Wells’s father who had gotten shot, and if Wells didn’t think Bellamy should pay for that, then who was Rhodes to say otherwise?
Actually, Wells smiled grimly, it was Bellamy’s father too. If only Rhodes knew that, he’d probably have an aneurysm. Wells couldn’t deny that the image brought him some pleasure.
Sasha raised an eyebrow, clearly curious about what he was thinking. “I was just imagining what would happen if Rhodes found out that Bellamy and I were brothers,” Wells said.
Sasha laughed. “He’d probably have a heart attack. Actually, that might be the best plan. I’ll head back to your camp, shout the news, and wait for Rhodes to drop dead. Problem solved.”
Wells squeezed her hand back. “Your tactical mind never ceases to amaze me.”
They walked on, with Wells only half listening as Sasha pointed out various geographic features. At one point, Clarke began peppering Sasha with questions about different animal species, but Wells could tell she doing it more to distract Bellamy.
They walked for what seemed like hours. Finally Sasha pointed to a small rise in the ground, so subtle they would never have noticed it on their own.
“That way,” she said. They followed her, picking their way carefully among the branches. Wells felt the ground beneath him slowly sloping downward, and he adjusted his gait to keep from toppling forward. They rounded a curve and Wells’s breath caught in his chest as he took in the sight spread out before him. At the bottom of the hill, in a wide valley, was an entire town, just like he’d spent his entire life reading about. Just like he’d imagined building with the hundred on Earth.
Wells had never seen anything so remarkable since he’d arrived on the planet—not the endless trees reaching to the horizon, not the lake or the sky. Nature was beautiful in a way he’d never imagined, but this… this was life. Signs of vibrancy and energy were everywhere: light-filled windows with the shadows of families inside; animals stomping their hooves, harnesses jangling; smoke curling out of a dozen chimneys in a coordinated dance toward the sky; wheelbarrows tipped on their sides, as if they’d just been dropped moments ago; balls and toys at rest, the echoes of children’s laughter floating in the air around them.
Wells let out an astonished laugh. Clarke turned to him and smiled. “Pretty cool, right?” He was glad that she was here to share this moment. She was one of the only people in the solar system who knew how much this meant to him.
“It’s spectacular.”
Sasha slipped her hand into his and squeezed. “Let’s go.” She led them down the hill and onto the dirt road that ran through the center of her town. Wells breathed in the smell of roasting meat and something lighter and sweeter—was someone baking bread?
Sasha walked up to the front door of the last house on a row and entered without knocking. They stepped through the doorway and into a room lit by a small lamp and a flickering fire. The first thing Wells noticed was the enormous oil painting of a star-filled sky on the wall. Back on the ship, something like that would’ve been behind a foot of bulletproof glass, maybe inside an oxygen-free chamber, but here it hung unadorned, just a few meters from the ash-spewing fire. Yet Wells could tell that the firelight somehow brought it to life more than the harsh, fluorescent lights of Phoenix ever could, making the stars appear to glow.
Wells pulled his gaze from the painting and turned his attention to the gray-bearded man who’d just stood to greet them. He was standing next to a plain wooden table that was covered with electronics, most of which Wells didn’t recognize. The only piece that looked at all familiar was an ancient laptop that’d been welded onto an enormous solar panel, and not particularly neatly.
“Hi, Dad,” Sasha said, stepping forward to kiss her father’s cheek. “You remember Clarke and Bellamy, right?”
The man raised a bushy eyebrow. “How could I forget?” He turned to his guests and nodded. “Welcome back.”
“Thank you,” Bellamy said, slightly bashful. “Sorry I keep showing up like this.”
Sasha’s father glanced at his heavily bandaged arm. “Somehow, I don’t think it’s entirely your fault, although you do seem to have a special talent for finding trouble.”
“Talent is one word for it,” Clarke said, reaching her arm forward. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Walgrove.”
“Dad, this is Wells.” Sasha caught Wells’s eye for a brief moment and shot him an encouraging look.
“Nice to meet you, sir.” Wells stepped forward and held out his hand.
“Nice to meet you too, Wells.” Sasha’s dad gripped Wells’s hand in a firm shake. “Call me Max.”
Max turned back to Bellamy. “Where’s your sister?” He said the word casually, without twisting his lips with disdain like Rhodes would’ve done. In this world, having a sibling didn’t mark your family as deviants.
“She didn’t come with us,” Bellamy told Max, trying to keep his voice steady as he shot Clarke an anguished look.
Sasha led them back outside and explained that there was only one spare cabin at the moment, and it only had one bed. Wells quickly said that Bellamy should take it, and he helped Clarke walk Bellamy over while Sasha ran to get Clarke some medical supplies.
Once Bellamy and Clarke were safely inside, Sasha took Wells’s hand and interlaced her fingers through his. “So… where to? You can crash on the floor at my dad’s house, or if you don’t mind the cold, I can take you to my favorite spot.”
“Hmmm,” Wells said, pretending to weigh the choices. “While sleeping a few meters from your father sounds amazing, I’ll have to go with option B.”
Sasha smiled and led Wells back through the tiny town and into a small patch of trees that grew between the cabins and the hill leading up to Mount Weather. “I hope I can find it in the dark,” Sasha said, running her hand along the trunk of one of the larger trees.
“Find what?” Wells asked.
“This.” Sasha’s voice was triumphant. In the dim light, Wells could just make out some kind of ladder, made from ragged rope. “Follow me.” Silently, Sasha scaled the tree, disappearing into the branches before calling down to Wells. “Come on, slowpoke.”
Wells grabbed on to the rope hesitantly. It hardly looked capable of supporting his weight, but there was no way he was going to wimp out in front of Sasha. With a deep breath, he slipped his foot into the first rung, and, holding on to the tree to steady himself, took a big step. He swayed from side to side but managed to keep climbing, wincing slightly as the rope cut into his hands.
Without looking down, he moved up the ladder and eventually saw Sasha resting on a small wooden platfor
m tucked among the branches. “Like it?” she asked, grinning as if she’d just invited Wells into the most magnificent palace.
Carefully, he slipped off the ladder and crawled over next to her. “Love it,” he said with a smile. “Did you make it yourself?”
“I was pretty little, so my dad helped.”
“And he won’t mind if we spend the night here?”
“Wells, my father is in charge of our entire society. He’s a little too busy to care about where I sleep.”
Wells snorted. “No father is that busy.”
“It’s fine. Though we can certainly go back if it’ll make you more comfortable.”
In response, Wells reached his arm around Sasha and pulled her close. “I’m pretty comfortable here, actually.”
She smiled and gave him a quick, light kiss. “Good.”
“I’ve missed you these past few days,” Wells said, lowering himself onto the wooden platform and pulling her down with him.
“I’ve missed you too.” Her voice was muffled as she snuggled into his chest.
“Thank you… for everything. I never meant for you to get caught up in all this, let alone impose on your people.”
Sasha sat up slowly and looked at him. She traced her hand along the side of his face and then began running it through his hair. “You don’t have to thank me, Wells. I want to keep you all safe too, you know.”
“I know.” He took her hand and kissed it. “So…” he said, looking around. “This seems like a nice place to sleep.”
“Are you tired?”
“Exhausted,” he said, wrapping his hand behind her, and pulling her in for another kiss. “You?”
“Maybe not quite that tired.”
She kissed him again, and the rest of the world slipped away. There were no new Colonists. No Earthborns. No Rhodes. Just Sasha. Just their breath. Just their lips.
The camp suddenly felt light-years away, as distant as Earth used to look from the Colony. “You make me feel legitimately crazy. You know that, right?” Wells whispered, running his hand down her back.
