Day 21

by Kass Morgan

  A new sound joined the chorus of wails and shouts. At first, Glass thought she was imagining it, but when she glanced over her shoulder, she spotted the musician from earlier standing at the top of the ramp. He’d tucked the violin under his chin and was drawing the bow across the strings. With nearly one thousand people between him and the nearest dropship, he must’ve realized he wasn’t going to make it. And instead of succumbing to panic, he’d chosen to end his life doing what he loved best.

  The man’s eyes were closed, rendering him oblivious to the confused stares and angry jeers of everyone around him. But as the melody dipped and soared, their faces softened. The bittersweet trills swept the pain out of their chests and into the air. The crushing fear became a shared burden, and for a moment, it felt like something they could bear together.

  Glass turned from side to side, searching desperately for Luke. Growing up on Walden, he’d never attended a Remembrance Day concert, and she wanted him to hear this music. If he had to die tonight, she needed to know his last moments would be marked by something other than heartache.

  A loud beeping suddenly echoed through the room, breaking the spell of the music, as the door on the farthest dropship started to close. The few people who’d been trying to force their way inside began to frantically claw their way forward, desperate to get on the ship before it launched.

  “Wait!” a woman screamed, breaking free from the crowd to run toward the door. “My son is in there!”

  “Stop her!” another voice bellowed. A few people rushed forward to grab the woman, but it was too late. She slipped into the airlock, but didn’t make it into the ship. When she realized what had happened, she spun around and pounded frantically on the sealed airlock door. There was another, louder beep, then silence.

  Behind her, the ship detached from the Colony and started toward the blue-gray orb of Earth. Then a wave of horrified gasps rippled over the crowd.

  The woman was floating past the window, her face contorted by a scream none of them could hear. Her arms and legs thrashed wildly, as if she thought she could grab the ship and pull herself back inside. Yet within a few seconds, she stopped moving, and her face turned a deep purple. Glass turned away, but not quickly enough. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a sickening glimpse of an enormous, swollen purple foot before the woman drifted from view.

  Another beep sounded as the next dropship began to launch. Now only four remained. The frenzy of the crowd had reached a fever pitch, the launch deck echoing with the sounds of death and grief.

  Gritting her teeth, Glass pulled her mother forward just as the sea of bodies swept them even closer to the ramp. The third dropship detached from the ship and launched. A redhead shoved past them, and it was only after she was gone that Glass realized it had been Camille. Did that mean Luke was close by? She started to cry out his name, but the shout died before it even left her throat.

  “Glass,” her mother’s voice came from behind her. It felt like an eternity had passed since the last time Sonja had spoken. “We aren’t going to make it. At least, not together. You need to—”

  “No!” Glass cried, seeing a break in the crowd and moving toward it. But just as she did, she saw Camille push a skinny boy off the dropship and take his place. His shocked mother’s anguished wails echoed through the deck as the doors closed with a final click.

  “Move aside!” a harsh voice shouted. Glass spun around and saw a line of guards jogging down the ramp, their boots thudding in perfect unison as they escorted a handful of civilians onto the launch deck. One of them was the Vice Chancellor.

  No one heeded the guard’s orders. The mass of bodies continued to push toward the remaining dropships. But the guards continued to surge forward, pushing people aside with the butts of their guns to clear a path. “Move it!”

  They shoved right past Glass and Sonja, pulling their charges alongside them. As he was led past, Vice Chancellor Rhodes’s eyes settled on Sonja, and a look Glass couldn’t quite identify came over his face. He stopped, whispered something to a guard, and then motioned toward Glass’s mother.

  The crowd parted as three guards stormed toward them. Before Glass had time to react, they’d grabbed her and Sonja and were herding them toward the last dropship.

  The angry, violent shouts that followed sounded very far away. Glass could barely register anything but the sound of her own frantic heartbeat and the feel of her mother’s hand holding tight to hers. Were they really going to make it? Had the Vice Chancellor just saved both of their lives?

  The guards pushed Glass and Sonja onto the final dropship with the Vice Chancellor. All one hundred seats were full save for three in the front. Rhodes beckoned them forward. Glass moved like someone in a dream as she seated Sonja next to the Vice Chancellor, then sat down in the last seat herself.

  But Glass’s relief was tempered with a sharp, aching sadness at the thought that Luke probably wouldn’t be on Earth with her. She couldn’t be sure he wasn’t on one of the earlier dropships, but she didn’t think so. Luke would no sooner have knocked someone out of his way for a spot on the dropship than he would let a friend die for his own crime.

  As the final countdown began, Sonja clutched Glass’s hand. All around them, people were crying, muttering prayers, whispering good-byes and apologies to those they were leaving behind. Rhodes was helping Sonja with her harness, and Glass began to fumble with her own.

  But before her trembling hands could lock the buckle into place, a guard appeared in the door. His eyes were wide and darting madly as he held his gun in the air.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Rhodes shouted. “Get off! You’ll kill us all!”

  The guard fired a shot into the air, and everyone fell silent. “Now, listen up,” the guard said, looking around. “One of you is getting off this dropship, or everyone dies.” His terror-filled eyes settled on Glass, who still hadn’t managed to lock her buckle into place. He took a few steps forward and aimed the gun at her head. “You,” he spat. “Get. Off.” His arm was shaking so violently, the barrel of the gun almost scraped against Glass’s cheek.

  A disembodied voice filled the pod. “One minute until departure.”

  Rhodes fumbled with his harness. “Soldier!” he snapped, in his most commanding military voice. “Stand to attention!”

  The guard ignored him, grabbing Glass’s arm. “Get up or I’ll shoot you. I swear to god I will.”

  “Fifty-eight… fifty-seven…”

  Glass froze. “No, please.” She shook her head.

  “Fifty-three… fifty-two…”

  The guard pressed the muzzle of the gun to her temple. “Get up or I’ll shoot everyone in here.”

  She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, but somehow, Glass was rising to her feet. “Bye, Mom,” she whispered, turning toward the door.

  “Forty-nine… forty-eight…”

  “No!” her mother screamed. Suddenly, she was at Glass’s side. “Take my seat instead.”

  “No,” Glass sobbed, trying to push her mother back into her seat. “Stop, Mom!”

  The man waved the gun back and forth between the two of them. “One of you better get the hell out of here, or I’ll shoot you both!”

  “I will, please, hold your fire,” Glass pleaded, shoving her mom down and turning toward the door.

  “Stop!” A familiar form came barreling forward, jumping onto the ship at the last minute.

  Luke.

  “Thirty-five… thirty-four…”

  “Drop your weapon,” Luke shouted. “Just let them go.”

  “Get back,” the guard spat, trying to shove Luke away. In a flash, Luke had jumped onto the man from behind, locking his arm around the man’s neck and wrestling him to the floor.

  A deafening, bone-shuddering crack filled the dropship as the gun went off.

  Everyone screamed. Everyone except for one person.

  “Thirty… twenty-nine…”

  Her mother was slumped on the floor, a dark red stain
blooming on the front of her dress.

  CHAPTER 27

  Clarke

  For the first few moments, she couldn’t remember where she was. Clarke had woken up in so many different places over the past few weeks—her cell during her final days in Confinement, the overcrowded infirmary tent where Thalia had taken her last breaths, curled next to Bellamy under a star-filled sky. She blinked and listened intently, waiting for something to come into focus. The shadowy outlines of the trees. The sound of Bellamy’s even breath.

  But still there was nothing. Only darkness and silence.

  She started to sit up, but winced as the small movement sent shooting pain through her head. Where was she?

  Then it came back to her. She and Bellamy had wound their way deep inside Mount Weather. Those guards had come after them. And then…

  “Bellamy,” she said hoarsely, ignoring the pain as she jerked her head from side to side. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, her surroundings came into focus. She was in a small, empty room. A cell. “Bellamy!” He had aimed an arrow at the guards. Could they have determined he was too much of a threat? Her stomach roiled as she remembered the guns they’d been carrying.

  Something groaned a few meters away. Clarke rose onto her hands and knees and crawled toward the sound. A long, lanky figure was stretched out on the stone floor. “Bellamy,” she said again, her voice cracking as relief swept through her. She slumped back down on the ground and cradled his head in her lap.

  He groaned, and then his eyes fluttered open.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, stroking his hair away from his face. “Do you remember what happened?”

  He stared at her, seemingly uncomprehending, then jumped to his feet so quickly, he almost knocked Clarke over in the process. “Where are they?” he shouted, looking around wildly.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, wondering if he was still waking up from a nightmare.

  “Those Earthborn bastards who knocked us out.” He swatted at his neck. “They shot us with tranquilizer darts or something.”

  Clarke brought her hand up to her own neck. The foolishness she felt for not understanding what had happened turned to dread as she realized what it meant. The supposedly peaceful, civilized Earthborns—Sasha’s people—had knocked Clarke and Bellamy unconscious and dragged them into a dark cell.

  “Are you okay?” In the dim light, she saw Bellamy’s face soften as his fury gave way to concern. He pulled her toward him and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “We’re going to get out of here.”

  Clarke said nothing. This was all her fault. She’d been the one to insist they come down here, the one who had begged Bellamy to come with her. She couldn’t believe she’d been such an idiot.

  Sasha had lied about Asher. Lied about Octavia. Worst of all, she may even have known what was going to happen to Priya. There was no other “faction” of Earthborns. She must’ve invented them to make the hundred trust her, to lure Clarke and the rest of them into a trap. Sasha had been so vague when she spoke about the first Colonists, about the “incident” that had forced the Earthborns to expel them. Clarke should’ve suspected something was wrong.

  She closed her eyes and thought about the graves she’d found. Was that where she and Bellamy would end up after the Earthborns killed them? Or would their bodies remain in this godforsaken bunker forever?

  For a moment, all she could hear was Bellamy’s breath and her own frantic heartbeat. But then another sound came, the unmistakable tread of footsteps. “They’re coming,” Clarke whispered.

  She heard the clank of metal, and then bright light streamed inside, blinding her. Clarke brought her hand up to her eyes and saw the shadowy outline of a person in the doorway.

  The figure stepped forward, and a face came into focus. It was Sasha.

  Clarke’s fear drained away, leaving only anger and disgust. “You liar,” she exclaimed, lunging forward. “I trusted you! What the hell do you want from us?”

  “What? Clarke, no.” Sasha actually had the audacity to look hurt as she backed away from Clarke. “Wells let me go, and I came as quickly as I could. I wanted to make sure I was here when you arrived.”

  “Right, so you could arrange for us to be sedated and locked up,” Bellamy spat.

  Sasha shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry about that. But you probably shouldn’t have tried to shoot them with your bow.” She stepped forward and tried to put her hand on Clarke’s arm, then winced as Clarke pulled away. “The guards were only doing their job. As soon as I heard what had happened, I ran down to get you. Everything’s fine now.”

  “If this is your idea of fine, I’d hate to see what you think is bad,” Bellamy said, his voice colder than the damp air.

  Sasha sighed and pushed the door open further. “Just come with me. I’m taking you to see my father. Everything will make sense after you talk to him.”

  Clarke and Bellamy exchanged glances. She knew he didn’t believe Sasha any more than she did, but their only shot at escaping was to get out of the cell. “Fine,” Clarke said, taking Bellamy’s hand. “We’ll go, but then you have to show us the way out.”

  “Absolutely.” Sasha nodded. “I promise.”

  Clarke and Bellamy followed her out of the cell and into a dimly lit hallway. Most of the doors they passed were shut, but when she saw one that was open, Clarke paused a moment to look inside.

  It was an infirmary, or something like it. The equipment was similar to what they had on Phoenix; she recognized a heart-rate monitor, respirators, and an X-ray machine. Yet the narrow beds were covered with ragged, mismatched blankets, or in one case, what appeared to be animal fur.

  And most striking of all, it was empty—no doctors, nurses, or patients in sight. In fact, as Sasha led them through a series of corridors, Clarke didn’t see a single person anywhere. “I thought you said there were hundreds of you. Where is everyone?” she asked, curiosity momentarily overpowering her wariness.

  Bellamy was less easily distracted. “Probably out kidnapping more of our people.”

  Sasha stopped and turned to Clarke. “No one’s actually lived down here for fifty years. Now the bunker’s mainly used to store all the generators and the medical equipment, things that couldn’t be moved to the surface.”

  “So where do you live?” Clarke asked.

  “I’m going to show you. Come on.” Sasha led them around a corner, past another open room full of empty metal cages that Clarke could only hope had once contained animals, then stopped in front of a ladder that extended up through an opening in the ceiling.

  “After you,” Sasha said, gesturing toward the rungs.

  “Like hell we’re going first,” Bellamy said, grabbing Clarke’s hand.

  Sasha glanced between Clarke and Bellamy, then pressed her lips together and stepped lightly onto one of the lower rungs. She scaled the ladder so quickly, she’d nearly disappeared through the opening when she called for them to follow her.

  “You first,” Bellamy said to Clarke. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  It was harder work than Sasha made it look. Or perhaps that was just because Clarke was shaking so much, she had to use all her strength to keep her hands from slipping.

  The ladder disappeared into some sort of airshaft, almost a vertical tunnel. It was so narrow that Clarke could feel the back of her shirt scrape against the rock wall. She closed her eyes and kept climbing, imagining that she was climbing through the Colony, not under thousands of pounds of stone that felt like they were stifling her, crushing down on her until she couldn’t breathe. Her hands were sweaty, and she tried to wipe them on her shirt, terrified that at any moment, she’d slip and crash into Bellamy. She forced herself to breathe steadily.

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she glimpsed daylight above her.

  As she grasped the top rung, a hand reached down. Clarke was so exhausted that she grabbed it without hesitation, and allowed Sasha to pull her up onto the grass.

/>   While Clarke gasped for breath and rose shakily to her feet, Sasha reached down for Bellamy.

  “Do you climb that thing every day?” Bellamy panted, placing his hands on his knees and taking a deep breath of the cool morning air.

  “Oh, there’s a much easier way in and out. But I thought you’d appreciate the view from up here,” Sasha said, smiling. They were standing at the top of a hill looking out over a valley filled with wooden structures. There were dozens of small houses whose narrow chimneys were sending streams of smoke into the air, a larger building that might’ve been an assembly hall, and a few fenced-in areas filled with grazing animals.

  Clarke couldn’t stop staring at the people. They were everywhere: carrying baskets full of vegetables, pushing huge piles of firewood in wheeled carts, running down the streets and greeting one another. Children laughed as they played some kind of game along the dirt path that wove around the houses.

  Clarke turned to Bellamy and saw the same look of awe reflected in his eyes. For once, he was at a loss for words.

  “Come on,” Sasha said as she started to make her way down the hill. “My dad is waiting for us.”

  This time, neither of them protested. Bellamy took Clarke’s hand, and they followed Sasha down the slope.

  Before they even reached the bottom, dozens of people had stopped to stare at them. And by the time they set off down one of the dirt roads, it seemed like the entire village had gathered to catch a glimpse of Clarke and Bellamy.

  Most of the Earthborns merely looked surprised or curious, though a few were glaring at them with open suspicion, or even anger.

  “Don’t worry about them,” Sasha said cheerfully. “They’ll come around.”

  Up ahead, a tall man was standing with two women, who were talking animatedly, clearly arguing. He listened to them both, nodding gravely and saying little. He had close-shaved hair and a gray beard, with pronounced hollows underneath his sharp cheekbones. Yet despite his somewhat gaunt appearance, he radiated strength. As his eyes fell on Sasha, Clarke, and Bellamy, he excused himself from the women and strode forward with powerful, purposeful steps.