Homecoming
Page 60
A few shouts rose up from the crowd, and Max smiled.
“This is our land, our planet, and now’s the time to decide how much we’re willing to risk to protect it.”
Wells grinned and reached to shake Max’s hand. The older man clasped it in his, then pulled Wells toward him and clapped him on the back.
“Is everyone ready?” Wells asked, turning back to the crowd.
A battle cry shook the rough stone walls as everyone raised their fists in the air and gathered up their spears, arrows, and knives. They headed for the exits, growing silent as they slipped outside and took their positions in the darkened woods just outside Mount Weather.
Clarke slung a bag full of medical supplies over her shoulder and reached for a long knife. “Where are you going?” Bellamy asked, his excitement giving way to cold fear.
She raised her chin and gave him her most determined stare. “People are going to get hurt out there. They need me.”
Bellamy opened his mouth to protest but shut it when he realized how selfish that would be. Clarke was right. As the person with the most medical experience, it made perfect sense for her to be on the ground. “Just be really, really careful, okay?” he said. She nodded. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
Bellamy put his hand under her chin and tipped her face up to his. “Clarke, whatever happens, I just want you to know—”
She shook her head and cut him off with a kiss. “Don’t,” she said. “We’re going to be fine.”
He smiled at her. “You’re getting the hang of this arrogance thing.”
“I learned from the best.”
He kissed her again, then grabbed his bow and started walking toward the stairs.
“Bellamy,” Wells called, jogging over to him. “Listen, I know you’re not going to like this, but we think it’s best for everyone if you stay inside.”
“What?” Bellamy narrowed his eyes. “You can’t be serious. There’s no way in hell I’m staying in here. I’m not afraid of Rhodes, or any of them. Just let them try to bring me down again.”
“That’s the thing. You’re too much of a target. You’ll endanger everyone around you. I know you’re a great fighter, one of the best we have, but it’s not worth the risk.”
Bellamy stared at Wells, fighting the anger and indignation bubbling up from his stomach into his chest. What the hell was Wells thinking, trying to keep him out of the battle? As if dating the Earthborn leader’s dead daughter somehow made him Max’s second-in-command. But the vile thoughts taking shape in his brain disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived. Wells was right. This was about a lot more than Bellamy and his revenge. He needed to do what was best for the group, and in this case, it meant lying low.
He shot Clarke a rueful smile as he set his bow on the floor, then turned to Wells and held out his hand. “Be careful out there, man. And give Rhodes hell for me.”
Wells grinned as he took Bellamy’s hand and pulled him in for a hug. “I’ll see you soon.” Wells stepped back and glanced at Clarke.
She nodded at him, then turned to Bellamy. He wrapped his arms around her waist, held her close as she rested her cheek against his chest for a long moment while he kissed the top of her head. “I love you,” he said as she pulled away.
“I love you too.”
“Take care of her, Wells,” Bellamy called as he watched them make their way toward the stairs. Wells turned to meet his eyes and nodded.
“And take care of him, Clarke,” Bellamy said, a little softer this time. “Take care of each other.”
A moment later, they were gone.
Bellamy wasn’t sure how many miles he’d logged, pacing the hall, but it was impossible for him to stand still. He had to keep moving. The bunker was eerily silent. Fifteen minutes passed, then twenty. Bellamy couldn’t take it. He slipped out of the room, ran up the circular stairs, and cracked open the door to Mount Weather. He stood in the shadows of the hallway, listening for a sign that the battle was about to begin.
Finally, a long, low whistle echoed across the hilltop, followed by three short chirps. Rhodes’s men were close. Bellamy held his breath. Seconds later, the first shot rang out, then another, then too many to count. The night sky lit up with gunfire, and dozens of spears and arrows whizzed down from the trees in a blurred swoosh. Agonized cries and shouts rose up as if from the earth itself. Then, as if they were materializing from thin air, wounded men and women began stumbling out of the forest, into the clearing outside Mount Weather. Some were Colonists, others were Earthborns. All were covered in blood and writhing in pain. It was instant carnage, as bad as anything Bellamy had seen when the dropships crashed.
Without thinking, Bellamy bolted through the door. He snatched up a club from the hand of a fallen Earthborn and began swinging it wildly in every direction. He was doing some pretty good damage too, until three Earthborns swooped down on him, grabbing him by the arms and practically lifting him off his feet. They hauled him backward into the entrance to Mount Weather. Bellamy kicked and tried to break free. “Let me go,” he yelled. “I want to fight!”
“You need to stay out of sight,” one of the women admonished, and Bellamy instantly felt remorseful—how had he let himself get carried away again?
He stopped struggling and began running toward the door. The Earthborns circled him for protection and ran alongside him. Just steps from the safety of Mount Weather’s walls, a man to Bellamy’s right let out a cry and fell to the ground. Bellamy froze and looked down in horror. Blood poured from the man’s chest, but he raised his arm and gestured for Bellamy to keep moving. Bellamy did as he was told, leaping forward in a full sprint. It was just a few feet. He felt the attackers closing in from behind, practically breathing down his neck. He pushed his muscles harder than ever, his legs burning and his fists and elbows pumping up and down as he ran.
“This is our land, our planet, and now’s the time to decide how much we’re willing to risk to protect it.”
Wells grinned and reached to shake Max’s hand. The older man clasped it in his, then pulled Wells toward him and clapped him on the back.
“Is everyone ready?” Wells asked, turning back to the crowd.
A battle cry shook the rough stone walls as everyone raised their fists in the air and gathered up their spears, arrows, and knives. They headed for the exits, growing silent as they slipped outside and took their positions in the darkened woods just outside Mount Weather.
Clarke slung a bag full of medical supplies over her shoulder and reached for a long knife. “Where are you going?” Bellamy asked, his excitement giving way to cold fear.
She raised her chin and gave him her most determined stare. “People are going to get hurt out there. They need me.”
Bellamy opened his mouth to protest but shut it when he realized how selfish that would be. Clarke was right. As the person with the most medical experience, it made perfect sense for her to be on the ground. “Just be really, really careful, okay?” he said. She nodded. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
Bellamy put his hand under her chin and tipped her face up to his. “Clarke, whatever happens, I just want you to know—”
She shook her head and cut him off with a kiss. “Don’t,” she said. “We’re going to be fine.”
He smiled at her. “You’re getting the hang of this arrogance thing.”
“I learned from the best.”
He kissed her again, then grabbed his bow and started walking toward the stairs.
“Bellamy,” Wells called, jogging over to him. “Listen, I know you’re not going to like this, but we think it’s best for everyone if you stay inside.”
“What?” Bellamy narrowed his eyes. “You can’t be serious. There’s no way in hell I’m staying in here. I’m not afraid of Rhodes, or any of them. Just let them try to bring me down again.”
“That’s the thing. You’re too much of a target. You’ll endanger everyone around you. I know you’re a great fighter, one of the best we have, but it’s not worth the risk.”
Bellamy stared at Wells, fighting the anger and indignation bubbling up from his stomach into his chest. What the hell was Wells thinking, trying to keep him out of the battle? As if dating the Earthborn leader’s dead daughter somehow made him Max’s second-in-command. But the vile thoughts taking shape in his brain disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived. Wells was right. This was about a lot more than Bellamy and his revenge. He needed to do what was best for the group, and in this case, it meant lying low.
He shot Clarke a rueful smile as he set his bow on the floor, then turned to Wells and held out his hand. “Be careful out there, man. And give Rhodes hell for me.”
Wells grinned as he took Bellamy’s hand and pulled him in for a hug. “I’ll see you soon.” Wells stepped back and glanced at Clarke.
She nodded at him, then turned to Bellamy. He wrapped his arms around her waist, held her close as she rested her cheek against his chest for a long moment while he kissed the top of her head. “I love you,” he said as she pulled away.
“I love you too.”
“Take care of her, Wells,” Bellamy called as he watched them make their way toward the stairs. Wells turned to meet his eyes and nodded.
“And take care of him, Clarke,” Bellamy said, a little softer this time. “Take care of each other.”
A moment later, they were gone.
Bellamy wasn’t sure how many miles he’d logged, pacing the hall, but it was impossible for him to stand still. He had to keep moving. The bunker was eerily silent. Fifteen minutes passed, then twenty. Bellamy couldn’t take it. He slipped out of the room, ran up the circular stairs, and cracked open the door to Mount Weather. He stood in the shadows of the hallway, listening for a sign that the battle was about to begin.
Finally, a long, low whistle echoed across the hilltop, followed by three short chirps. Rhodes’s men were close. Bellamy held his breath. Seconds later, the first shot rang out, then another, then too many to count. The night sky lit up with gunfire, and dozens of spears and arrows whizzed down from the trees in a blurred swoosh. Agonized cries and shouts rose up as if from the earth itself. Then, as if they were materializing from thin air, wounded men and women began stumbling out of the forest, into the clearing outside Mount Weather. Some were Colonists, others were Earthborns. All were covered in blood and writhing in pain. It was instant carnage, as bad as anything Bellamy had seen when the dropships crashed.
Without thinking, Bellamy bolted through the door. He snatched up a club from the hand of a fallen Earthborn and began swinging it wildly in every direction. He was doing some pretty good damage too, until three Earthborns swooped down on him, grabbing him by the arms and practically lifting him off his feet. They hauled him backward into the entrance to Mount Weather. Bellamy kicked and tried to break free. “Let me go,” he yelled. “I want to fight!”
“You need to stay out of sight,” one of the women admonished, and Bellamy instantly felt remorseful—how had he let himself get carried away again?
He stopped struggling and began running toward the door. The Earthborns circled him for protection and ran alongside him. Just steps from the safety of Mount Weather’s walls, a man to Bellamy’s right let out a cry and fell to the ground. Bellamy froze and looked down in horror. Blood poured from the man’s chest, but he raised his arm and gestured for Bellamy to keep moving. Bellamy did as he was told, leaping forward in a full sprint. It was just a few feet. He felt the attackers closing in from behind, practically breathing down his neck. He pushed his muscles harder than ever, his legs burning and his fists and elbows pumping up and down as he ran.
