The 100 (The 100 Series) (23 page)

He sank to the grass with a groan and closed his eyes.

It was true. Octavia
had
taken the medicine. She’d hidden it in the tree and used her hair ribbon as a marker so she could find it again. But he couldn’t think why she’d done it. Had she worried about what would happen if one of them had gotten sick? Maybe she’d been planning to take the supplies with them when they set out on their own.

But then Graham’s words rang in his ears.
We can’t let anyone else die just because your little sister’s a drug addict.

The boy assigned to stand guard outside the infirmary tent had fallen asleep. He barely managed to scramble to his feet and mumble a quick “Hey, you can’t go in there” before Bellamy burst through the flap. He jerked his head around, confirming that it was empty except for Clarke’s sleeping sick friend, then strode over to where Octavia was sitting cross-legged on her cot, braiding her hair.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he hissed.

“What are you talking about?” Her voice was a mixture of boredom and irritation, as if he were pestering her about schoolwork like he always used to when checking up on her in the care center.

Bellamy threw the hair ribbon down on her cot, wincing as he saw horror rush to Octavia’s face. “I didn’t…,” she stammered. “It wasn’t…”

“Cut the bullshit, O,” he snapped. “Now you can finish braiding your goddamn hair while a girl is dying in front of you.”

Octavia’s eyes darted to Thalia, then shifted down. “I didn’t think she was really that sick,” she said softly. “Clarke had already given her medicine. By the time I realized she needed more, it was too late. I can’t confess now. You saw how they were. I didn’t know what they’d do to me.” When she looked up again, her deep-blue eyes were filled with tears. “Even you hate me now, and you’re my brother.”

Bellamy sighed and sat down next to his sister. “I don’t hate you.” He grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I just don’t understand. Why’d you do it? The truth this time, please.”

Octavia fell silent, and he could feel her skin growing clammy as she began to tremble. “O?” He released her hand.

“I needed them,” she said, her voice small. “I can’t sleep
without them.” She paused and closed her eyes. “At first, it was just at night. I kept having these terrible dreams, so the nurse at the care center gave me medicine to help me sleep, but then it got worse. There were times when I couldn’t breathe, when it felt like the whole universe was closing in on me, crushing me. The nurse wouldn’t give me any more medicine, even when I asked, so I started stealing pills. It was the only thing that made me feel better.”

Bellamy stared at her. “
That’s
what you were caught stealing?” he asked slowly, the realization overtaking him. “Not food for the younger kids in the care center.
Pills.
”

Octavia didn’t say anything, just nodded, her eyes full of tears.

“O,” Bellamy sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I know how much you worry about me.” She took a deep breath. “I know how you want to protect me all the time. I didn’t want you to feel like you’d failed.”

Bellamy felt pain radiating out from a spot behind his heart. He didn’t know which hurt more: that his sister was a drug addict, or that she hadn’t told him the truth because he’d been so blinded by his insane need to watch over her. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse. “So what do we do now?” he asked. For the first time in his life, he had no idea how to help his sister. “What will happen when we give the medicine back?”

“I’ll be okay. I just need to learn how to live without them. It’s already easier here.” She reached out and took his hand, giving him a strange, almost pleading look. “Do you wish you hadn’t come here for me?”

“No,” Bellamy said firmly, shaking his head. “I ju hefull ofst need some time to process everything.” He rose to his feet, then looked back at his sister. “But you need to make sure Clarke gets the medicine.
You
have to be the one to tell her. I’m serious, O.”

“I know.” She nodded, then turned to look at Thalia and seemed to deflate a little. “I’ll do it tonight.”

“Okay.” Sighing, Bellamy strode out of the tent and into the clearing. When he reached the tree line, he took a deep breath, allowing the damp air to seep through his lungs into his aching chest. He tilted his head back to let the wind wash over his flushed skin. Now that the sky was unobstructed by trees, it looked even darker, almost black. Suddenly, a line of jagged light flashed across the sky, followed by a violent, resounding crack that made the earth shudder. Bellamy jumped, and screams filled the clearing. But they were quickly drowned out by another deafening boom, this one louder than the first, like the sky was about to tumble to Earth.

Then something did start to fall.
Drops of liquid were cascading down his skin, dripping off his hair, and quickly seeping into his clothes.
Rain
, Bellamy realized, real rain. He
tilted his face up toward the sky, and for a moment, his wonder drowned out all the rest—his anger at Graham and Wells and Clarke, his concern for his sister, the screams of the idiot kids who didn’t know that rain was harmless. He closed his eyes, letting the water wash away the dirt and sweat caked on his face. For a second, he let himself imagine that the rain could wash everything away: the blood, the tears, the fact that he and Octavia had failed each other. They could have a clean start, try again.

Bellamy opened his eyes. He was being ridiculous, he knew. The rain was only water, and there was no such thing as a clean start. That was the thing about secrets—you had to carry them with you forever, no matter what the cost.

As she walked across the skybridge, the terrible realization that her mother was right hung like a weight on Glass’s heart. She couldn’t risk a single misstep—not for her sake, but for Luke’s. What if the Chancellor woke up and revoked her pardon, and then Luke did something stupid and admitted the truth about the pregnancy? It was like history was repeating itself, and yet she knew she’d always make the same choice. She would always choose to protect the boy she loved.

She’d been avoiding Luke for several days, though he’d been summoned for so many emergency shifts lately that she wasn’t sure he’d even noticed. She’d finally arranged to meet at his flat this evening, and the thought of him greeting her with
a smile made her chest ache. At least this time, there’d be no tricks, no lies. She’d simply tell him the truth, no matter how difficult. Maybe he’d seek comfort in Camille again, and then things would truly come full circle. The thought came with a knife-sharp pang, but Glass ignored it and kept walking.

As she approached the far end of the skybridge, her eyes landed on a small group gathered near the checkpoint. A few guards stood speaking in a tight circle, while a number of civilians whispered and pointed at something through the long, star-filled window that bordered the walkway. Glass suddenly recognized a few of the guards—they were Luke’s team, members of the elite guard’s engineering corps. The woman with graying hair who was moving her fingers rapidly through the air, manipulating a holo-diagr
gmoving ham in front of her face, was Bekah. Next to her was Ali, a boy with dark skin and bright-green eyes fixed intently on the image Bekah was creating.

“Glass!” Ali exclaimed warmly, looking up as she approached. He jogged forward a few steps and clasped her hands in his. “It’s great to see you. How are you?”

“I’m… good,” she stammered, confused. How much did they know? Were they greeting her as Luke’s ex, the snotty Phoenix girl who’d broken his heart, or as Luke’s escaped-convict girlfriend? Either way, Ali was being much kinder than she deserved.

Bekah shot Glass a quick smile and then returned to her
diagrams, frowning as she rotated a complicated-looking three-dimensional blueprint. “Where’s Luke?” Glass asked as she glanced from side to side. If they were still on duty, he wouldn’t be home yet either.

Ali gestured out the window with a grin. “Look outside.”

Glass turned slowly, every atom in her body turning to ice. She knew already what she would see. Two figures in space suits were floating outside, each tethered to the ship by a thin cord. They had tool kits strapped to their backs and were using their gloved hands to move along the skybridge.

As if in a trance, Glass moved slowly forward and pressed her face against the window. She watched in horror as the two figures nodded at each other, then disappeared under the skybridge. Luke’s unit was responsible for crucial repairs, but he’d only been a junior member of the team when they were dating last year. She knew he’d been promoted, but she had no idea he would be out on spacewalks this soon.

The thought of him outside—nothing separating him from the cold emptiness of space but a laughably thin cord and a pressurized suit—made Glass feel dizzy. She grabbed on to the railing to steady herself, sending up a silent prayer to the stars to keep him safe.

She hadn’t left the flat in two weeks. Not even her loosest clothes could mask the bump that had emerged with alarming
suddenness. Glass wasn’t sure how much longer her mother would be able to make excuses for her. She’d stopped responding to her friends’ messages, and eventually, they’d stopped sending them. Everyone except for Wells, who contacted her every day without fail.

Glass pulled up her message queue to reread the note he’d sent her that morning.

The rest of the note went on to talk about Wells’s frustrations with officer training, then ended with a few cryptic allusions to something about Clarke. Glass hoped there was nothing seriously wrong—Clarke needed to realize how good she had it. She would never find a sweeter, smarter boy on Phoenix. Although the honor of the sweetest, smartest boy in the Colony went to Luke. Luke, who was no longer in her life.

The only thing that kept Glass sane was the growing presence inside her. Placing her hand on her stomach, Glass whispered to the baby, telling him again—she felt certain, somehow, that it was a bhatept Glaoy—how much she loved him.

There was a sudden knock at the door, and Glass hurried to stand up, to try to run into her bedroom and lock it shut. But the three guards had already burst inside.

“Glass Sorenson,” one of them barked, his eyes traveling to her stomach, the bump glaringly obvious. “You are under arrest for violation of the Gaia Doctrine.”

“Please just let me explain.” She gasped as panic gushed through her. It felt like she was drowning. The room was spinning, and it was hard to tell which words were coming out of her mouth and which were dashing manically through her skull.

In a flash, one of the guards grabbed her arms and wrenched her wrists behind her back while another secured them with cuffs. “No,” she whimpered. “Please. It was an accident.” She pressed her feet into the floor, but there was no use. The guards were forcibly dragging her across the room.

And then some wild, frantic instinct took over, and Glass thrashed against the guard restraining her, kicking wildly against his shins and shoving her elbow into his throat. He tightened his grip on her shoulder as he dragged her out through the corridor and into the stairwell.

A sob wrenched up from inside her as Glass realized that she would never see Luke again, the knowledge hitting her with all the force of a hammer. Her legs suddenly gave out. The guard holding her staggered back as she slid, trying to keep her upright.

I could do it
, Glass thought, taking advantage of his momentary imbalance to surge wildly forward. For a brief, shining moment, Glass felt the thrill of hope pushing through the panic. This was her chance. She would escape.