The 100 (The 100 Series) (25 page)

“No.” Wells shook his head. “You’re right. There needs to be consequences.” He took a deep breath. “We’ll banish them from camp.” His voice was firm, but when he turned
to Bellamy, his eyes seemed to contain a strange mixture of anguish and relief.

“Banish?” Graham repeated. “So they can sneak back whenever they want and steal more supplies? That’s bullshit.”

Bellamy opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was drowned out as the buzz of voices grew louder. Finally, a girl Bellamy vaguely recognized from Walden stood up. “That sounds fair,” she called out, shouting to be heard over the crowd, which grew quiet as heads turned to look at her. “As long as they promise never to come back.”

Bellamy tightened his arm around Octavia, who’d gone limp. He nodded. “We’ll leave at sunrise.” He turned to smile at Octavia—this is what he’d planned all along. So then why did he feel more apprehension than relief?

The fire died down, and darkness settled over the camp like a blanket, muffling footsteps and muting voices as shadowy figures disappeared into tents or carried blankets toward the edges of the clearing.

Bel si mufflilamy set up a makeshift cot for Octavia at the short end, near the wreckage of the dropship. They hadn’t said it aloud, but they both knew neither of them wanted to sleep in a tent tonight.

Octavia curled up on her blanket and closed her eyes, though it was clear she wasn’t sleeping. The trip back into the
woods with Clarke to retrieve the medicine had been a tense one. No one had spoken, though Bellamy could feel Clarke’s eyes boring into his back as he led the way.

Now he sat next to Octavia, his back against a tree, staring into the darkness. It was hard to wrap his mind around the fact that tomorrow, they would leave forever.

A shape moved through the shadows toward them. Wells. He had Bellamy’s bow slung over his shoulder.

“Hey,” Wells said quietly as Bellamy rose to his feet. “I’m sorry about what happened back there. I know banishment sounds harsh, but I wasn’t sure what else to do.” He sighed. “I really thought Graham was going to convince them to…” He trailed off as his eyes fell on Octavia. “Not that I would’ve let that happen, but there’s only two of us and a lot of them.”

Bellamy felt a smartass retort rise in his throat but swallowed it back down. Wells had done the best thing he could under the circumstances. “Thank you.”

They stared at each other for a moment, then Bellamy cleared his throat. “Listen, I should probably…” He paused. “I’m sorry about your father.” Bellamy took a deep breath and forced himself to meet Wells’s eyes. “I hope he’s okay.”

“Thank you,” Wells said quietly. “I do too.” He fell silent for a moment, but when he spoke again, his voice was firm. “I know you were just trying to protect your sister. I would’ve done the same thing.” He smiled. “I suppose I sort of did.
Wells extended his hand. “I hope you and Octavia stay safe out there.”

Bellamy shook his hand and smiled ruefully. “I can’t imagine anything out there worse than Graham. Keep an eye on that kid.”

“Will do.” Wells nodded, then turned around and headed back into the darkness.

Bellamy lowered himself to the blanket and stared out into the clearing. He could just make out the shape of the infirmary tent where Clarke would be giving Thalia the long-awaited medicine. His stomach twisted strangely as he thought back to the scene by the fire, the flames flickering over Clarke’s determined face. He’d never known a girl who was so beautiful and intense at once.

Bellamy leaned back with a sigh and closed his eyes, wondering how long it would take until she stopped being the last person he thought about before he fell asleep.

The antibiotics were working. Although it had been less than a few hours since Clarke burst into the tent, clutching the medicine under her arm, Thalia’s fever had already gone down, and she was more alert than she’d been in days.

Clarke lowered herself to perch on the edge of Thalia’s cot as her friend’s eyes fluttered open. “Welcome back,” Clarke said with a grin. “How are you feeling?”

Thalia’s eyes darted around the empty tent, then looked up to meet Clarke’s. “This isn’t heaven, is it?”

Clarke shook her head. “God, I hope not.”

“Good. Because I always assumed there’d be boys there. Boys who didn’t use water rationing as an excuse not to
bathe.” Thalia managed a smile. “Did anyone build the first shower on Earth while I was passed out?”

“Nope. You didn’t miss much.”

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe.” Thalia raised her shoulders in an attempt to sit up, but settled back down with a groan. Clarke gently placed a rolled-up blanket behind her. “Thanks,” she muttered and surveyed Clarke for a moment before she spoke again. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

Clarke gave her a bemused smile. “Nothing! I’m just so happy you’re feeling better.”

“Please. You can’t hide anything from me. You know I always manage to get your secrets out of you,” Thalia deadpanned. “You can start by telling me where you found the medicine.”

“Octavia had it,” Clarke explained and quickly filled Thalia in on what had happened. “She and Bellamy are leaving tomorrow,” she finished. “That’s part of the deal Wells made with everyone. I know it sounds crazy, but it really felt like they were close to attacking her.” She shook her head. “If Wells hadn’t stepped in, I’m not sure what would’ve happened.”

Thalia was staring at Clarke with a curious expression on her face.

“What?” Clarke asked.

“Nothing, just—this is the first time I’ve ever heard you
say his name without looking like you want to punch a hole through a wall.”

“True,” Clarke admitted with a smile. She supposed her feelings had changed—or at least, were starting to.

“So?”

Clarke began to fiddle with the pill bottles. She hadn’t wanted to tell Thalia about what happened in the woods in case it made Thalia feel guilty—after all, she’d gone out looking for plants to help her and had ended up almost getting killed. “There’s something else I haven’t told you. It didn’t seem important before, when you were so sick, but…” She took a breath and gave Thalia a brief account of Wells rescuing her from the ruin.

“He followed you all the way there?”

Clarke nodded. “The weird thing is, while I was hanging on that ledge, convinced I was going to die, he was the one person I was thinking about. And when he showed up, I wasn’t even angry that he’d followed me. I was just relieved that he’d cared enough to go after me, despite the terrible things I’ve said to him.”

“He loves you. Nothing you do or say can ever change that.”

“I know.” Clarke closed her eyes, though she was afraid of the images that she knew would emerge from the shadows. “Even when we were in Confinement and I told you I wanted
to see his organs explode in space, I think there was a part of me that still loved him. And that made the pain even worse.”

Thalia was looking at her with a mixture of pity and understanding. “It’s time to stop punishing yourself, Clarke.”

“You mean punishing him.”

“No. I mean it’s time to stop punishing yourself for loving him. It’s not a betrayal of your parents.”

Clarke stiffened. “You didn’t know them. You have no idea what they’d think.”

“I know they wanted whtheont sizat was best for you. They were willing to do something they knew was wrong in order to keep you safe.” She paused. “Just like Wells.”

Clarke sighed and tucked her legs up underneath her, sitting on Thalia’s bed just like she used to back in their cell. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know if I can fight this anymore. Hating him is exhausting.”

“You should talk to him.”

Clarke nodded. “I will.”

“No, I mean right now.” Thalia’s eyes were bright with excitement. “Go talk to him.”

“What? It’s late.”

“I’m sure he’s lying wide-awake, thinking about you.…”

Clarke unfolded her legs, then rose to her feet. “Fine,” she said, “if that’s what it takes to get you to be quiet and rest.”

She walked across the tent, playfully rolling her eyes at
her friend as she pulled the flap aside. She stepped into the clearing and paused, wondering if she was making a mistake.

But it was too late to turn around. Her heart was beating so fast, it seemed to have a momentum of its own, pounding a frantic message to Wells through the darkness.
I’m coming.

Wells stared up at the sky. He’d never felt at ease in the overcrowded tents, and after what had happened tonight, the thought of being crammed next to people who’d been ready to tear Octavia apart was unbearable. Despite the cold, he liked falling asleep looking at the same stars he’d seen from his bed at home. He loved the moments when the moon disappeared behind a cloud and it became too dark to see the outlines of the trees. The sky would seem to stretch all the way down to the ground, creating the impression they weren’t on Earth at all but back up among the stars. It always gave him a small pain to open his eyes in the morning and find them gone.

Yet even the sky wasn’t enough to quiet Wells’s mind
tonight. He pushed himself into a seated position, wincing as he pried his blanket off the scattered rocks and branches. A rustling in a nearby tree caught his attention and he rose to his feet, craning his neck for a better look.

Wells stared in wonder as the tree, which had never boasted a single blossom since they’d landed, burst into bloom. Glimmering pink petals unfurled from pods he hadn’t noticed before, like fingertips reaching out in the dark. They were beautiful. Wells rose onto his toes, stretched his arms above his head, and wrapped his fingers around a stem.

“Wells?”

He spun around and saw Clarke standing a few meters away.

“What are you doing?”

He was about to ask her the same question, but instead he walked silently toward her and slipped the flower into her hand. She stared at it, and for a moment he thought she might shove it back at him. But to his surprise and relief, she looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” They stared at each other for a moment. “You couldn’t sleep either?” he asked, and she shook her head.

Wells sat down on an exposed tree root, which was just large enough for two, and gestured for her to sit besid si mhimselfe him.

After a moment she sank down, keeping a sliver of empty space between them. “How’s Thalia doing?” he asked.

“Much better. I’m so thankful Octavia came forward.” She looked down and ran her finger along the blossom. “I just can’t believe they’re leaving tomorrow.”

There was a note of regret in her voice that made Wells’s stomach clench. “I thought you’d be happy to see her go, after what she put you through.”

Clarke was quiet for a moment. “Good people can make mistakes,” she said slowly. She looked up, and her eyes met Wells’s. “It doesn’t mean you stop caring about them.”

For a long moment, all they could hear was the wind rustling the leaves, the silence filling with all the words that had been left unsaid. The apologies that could never begin to convey his sorrow.

The trial of Phoenix’s two most famous scientists had turned into the event of the year. There were more people gathered in the Council chamber than had ever shown up for a lecture, or any event other than the Remembrance Ceremony.

But Wells was only vaguely aware of the audience. The disgust he’d felt at their morbid curiosity—like Romans waiting for bloodshed at the Colosseum—faded away the moment his eyes landed on the girl sitting alone in the front row. He hadn’t seen Clarke since the night she’d confided in him about her parents’ research. Wells had told his father, who weighed the information carefully. As Wells had expected, the Chancellor had known nothing about
the experiments and had immediately launched an inquiry. Yet the investigation had taken a terrible turn Wells hadn’t expected, and now Clarke’s parents were going to face the Council on criminal charges. Guilty and terrified, Wells had spent the past week desperate to find Clarke, but his deluge of messages had gone unanswered, and when he went to her flat, he found it sealed off by guards.