Rebellion
Page 12
“We have a few volunteers already,” Max was saying, “and we’ll be keeping the party purposely small, to avoid detection. But if anyone would like to join us, please step for—”
“I’ll go,” Clarke’s voice called out. Bellamy’s skin went cold, watching her pick her way out of the crowd, her lips set in that stubborn line that Bellamy knew meant there was no talking her out of anything. “You’ll need someone with medical training with you.”
No, Bellamy thought. It was one thing for him to put himself in danger, but the thought of anything happening to Clarke was more than he could bear. He opened his mouth to argue, but before he could, another voice said it for him.
“Absolutely not,” Clarke’s father shouted, breathing heavily as he jogged over from the direction of the infirmary.
Clarke shot her father an impatient look. Finding her parents alive had been a miracle, banishing the specter of grief that’d always clung to her. Yet while her broken heart had healed, Bellamy knew that having her parents around was a bit of an adjustment.
She took a deep breath and motioned for her father to join her a little bit away from the rest of the group. Bellamy went to stand next to them, wracking his brain for a way to support Clarke while ensuring that she stayed behind.
“Your mother and I did everything in our power to get back to you,” her dad said.
“I know,” Clarke replied softly.
“And now against all odds, we’re finally together again. Your mother’s condition is serious. She needs you here. This is the worst possible time for you to go jaunting off, straight into god knows what kind of danger.”
“But we don’t get to pick the timing, do we?” As Clarke took her father’s hands and squeezed, Bellamy could see the anger fading from the older man’s eyes. “If we could, we’d never have been attacked. You’d never have been sent down before me. We would have been together this whole time.”
Clarke glanced back at Bellamy, clearly looking for backup. And though he wished she could stay here, she was right. They had no idea what condition their friends and family would be in—they’d need a medic with them. Bellamy stepped closer, in solidarity with her.
“I won’t be alone,” she said. “We’ll be careful and smart. But we have to do what we can for them. I can’t just sit here and do nothing. They have Wells, Dad. I can’t just abandon him. That’s not who I am.”
Her father’s shoulders slumped; then he took a deep breath and nodded once. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
Though he didn’t want to put Clarke in danger, Bellamy felt strangely relieved. He was grateful to have her by his side. There was no better person to join the party: She was brilliant and brave, and an incredible problem solver. And, selfishly, he hated being apart from her, the person who made this wild, strange planet feel like home.
“I will,” Clarke said. “I promise.”
“And swear that you won’t do anything foolish. There’s a big difference between bravery and recklessness.”
Clarke shot Bellamy a look, as if to say that he needed that advice more than she did. Despite himself, Bellamy smiled.
“Yes, I understand that,” Clarke said.
“You’re leaving tonight?” Clarke’s father asked.
Bellamy nodded. “We can’t risk waiting until tomorrow and losing the trail. We need to leave soon. Now.” He glanced around the clearing, anxiously tapping his foot. “Why is Luke just standing there? We have to get moving.” He cleared his throat. “Luke… Luke! What the—” He cut himself off as Clarke squeezed his arm, her expression slightly pained.
Too distressed to notice the exchange, David Griffin let out a long sigh. “Okay. Be sure to say good-bye to your mother before you head out. And you”—he locked eyes with Bellamy—“take care of her.”
“I promise,” Bellamy said. “Though I think we both know she can take care of herself.” He glanced over at Clarke. In the late-afternoon sun, her hair shined like gold. Combined with the intensity of her glowing green eyes, she looked fierce and otherworldly, like some ancient goddess of war.
Clarke’s father gave a grim smile. “I know.” He turned and walked away, suddenly looking older and more tired than he had minutes earlier.
Bellamy laced his fingers between Clarke’s, holding tight. He was glad she was coming with him. They were stronger together. Always had been.
She squeezed his hand and then let go. “I’d better say good-bye to my mom.”
The group around the bonfire was starting to break up. A few people were distributing some meager rations for dinner, while Paul organized a crew to sort through piles of charred blankets, looking for anything salvageable. Like last night, people would have to sleep outside.
“Okay,” Bellamy said. “I’m going to find Luke and get the supplies ready.”
Clarke looked around the crowd. “Who else is going with us?”
“Luke, of course. And Felix. I don’t think he’s even sat down since Eric was taken. We’ll see if he’s able to calm down and focus. A couple of Earthborns. And Paul volunteered.”
Bellamy grimaced slightly, and waited for Clarke to do the same, but to her surprise, she nodded. “Great.” She glanced over to where Paul was sorting blankets. “He seems like he’ll be useful. Steady.”
Something about the word rankled Bellamy. “Steady?” he repeated.
Clarke shrugged and tried to play it off like it was nothing, but as she walked away, he caught a glimpse of something in her eye. Worry. Fear. But not just about the people who’d been taken.
She was still worried about him. Still didn’t know if he’d recovered enough to be trusted. And the worst part was that he wasn’t sure she was wrong.
CHAPTER 8
Glass
At first, when Glass and the seven other girls had woken up, they’d shouted until they’d lost their voices. Their screams got them nothing; their captors stayed silent, their masklike faces betraying no emotion. Their wagon just kept onward, all night and into the early morning, stopping only occasionally for breaks. All Glass knew was that they were following a bumpy trail through the middle of a dense forest. She didn’t know the other prisoners very well. Octavia was with her, and a pretty Earthborn girl named Lina. The other five were almost strangers. But they were a unit, bound together by their despair.
“I’ll go,” Clarke’s voice called out. Bellamy’s skin went cold, watching her pick her way out of the crowd, her lips set in that stubborn line that Bellamy knew meant there was no talking her out of anything. “You’ll need someone with medical training with you.”
No, Bellamy thought. It was one thing for him to put himself in danger, but the thought of anything happening to Clarke was more than he could bear. He opened his mouth to argue, but before he could, another voice said it for him.
“Absolutely not,” Clarke’s father shouted, breathing heavily as he jogged over from the direction of the infirmary.
Clarke shot her father an impatient look. Finding her parents alive had been a miracle, banishing the specter of grief that’d always clung to her. Yet while her broken heart had healed, Bellamy knew that having her parents around was a bit of an adjustment.
She took a deep breath and motioned for her father to join her a little bit away from the rest of the group. Bellamy went to stand next to them, wracking his brain for a way to support Clarke while ensuring that she stayed behind.
“Your mother and I did everything in our power to get back to you,” her dad said.
“I know,” Clarke replied softly.
“And now against all odds, we’re finally together again. Your mother’s condition is serious. She needs you here. This is the worst possible time for you to go jaunting off, straight into god knows what kind of danger.”
“But we don’t get to pick the timing, do we?” As Clarke took her father’s hands and squeezed, Bellamy could see the anger fading from the older man’s eyes. “If we could, we’d never have been attacked. You’d never have been sent down before me. We would have been together this whole time.”
Clarke glanced back at Bellamy, clearly looking for backup. And though he wished she could stay here, she was right. They had no idea what condition their friends and family would be in—they’d need a medic with them. Bellamy stepped closer, in solidarity with her.
“I won’t be alone,” she said. “We’ll be careful and smart. But we have to do what we can for them. I can’t just sit here and do nothing. They have Wells, Dad. I can’t just abandon him. That’s not who I am.”
Her father’s shoulders slumped; then he took a deep breath and nodded once. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
Though he didn’t want to put Clarke in danger, Bellamy felt strangely relieved. He was grateful to have her by his side. There was no better person to join the party: She was brilliant and brave, and an incredible problem solver. And, selfishly, he hated being apart from her, the person who made this wild, strange planet feel like home.
“I will,” Clarke said. “I promise.”
“And swear that you won’t do anything foolish. There’s a big difference between bravery and recklessness.”
Clarke shot Bellamy a look, as if to say that he needed that advice more than she did. Despite himself, Bellamy smiled.
“Yes, I understand that,” Clarke said.
“You’re leaving tonight?” Clarke’s father asked.
Bellamy nodded. “We can’t risk waiting until tomorrow and losing the trail. We need to leave soon. Now.” He glanced around the clearing, anxiously tapping his foot. “Why is Luke just standing there? We have to get moving.” He cleared his throat. “Luke… Luke! What the—” He cut himself off as Clarke squeezed his arm, her expression slightly pained.
Too distressed to notice the exchange, David Griffin let out a long sigh. “Okay. Be sure to say good-bye to your mother before you head out. And you”—he locked eyes with Bellamy—“take care of her.”
“I promise,” Bellamy said. “Though I think we both know she can take care of herself.” He glanced over at Clarke. In the late-afternoon sun, her hair shined like gold. Combined with the intensity of her glowing green eyes, she looked fierce and otherworldly, like some ancient goddess of war.
Clarke’s father gave a grim smile. “I know.” He turned and walked away, suddenly looking older and more tired than he had minutes earlier.
Bellamy laced his fingers between Clarke’s, holding tight. He was glad she was coming with him. They were stronger together. Always had been.
She squeezed his hand and then let go. “I’d better say good-bye to my mom.”
The group around the bonfire was starting to break up. A few people were distributing some meager rations for dinner, while Paul organized a crew to sort through piles of charred blankets, looking for anything salvageable. Like last night, people would have to sleep outside.
“Okay,” Bellamy said. “I’m going to find Luke and get the supplies ready.”
Clarke looked around the crowd. “Who else is going with us?”
“Luke, of course. And Felix. I don’t think he’s even sat down since Eric was taken. We’ll see if he’s able to calm down and focus. A couple of Earthborns. And Paul volunteered.”
Bellamy grimaced slightly, and waited for Clarke to do the same, but to her surprise, she nodded. “Great.” She glanced over to where Paul was sorting blankets. “He seems like he’ll be useful. Steady.”
Something about the word rankled Bellamy. “Steady?” he repeated.
Clarke shrugged and tried to play it off like it was nothing, but as she walked away, he caught a glimpse of something in her eye. Worry. Fear. But not just about the people who’d been taken.
She was still worried about him. Still didn’t know if he’d recovered enough to be trusted. And the worst part was that he wasn’t sure she was wrong.
CHAPTER 8
Glass
At first, when Glass and the seven other girls had woken up, they’d shouted until they’d lost their voices. Their screams got them nothing; their captors stayed silent, their masklike faces betraying no emotion. Their wagon just kept onward, all night and into the early morning, stopping only occasionally for breaks. All Glass knew was that they were following a bumpy trail through the middle of a dense forest. She didn’t know the other prisoners very well. Octavia was with her, and a pretty Earthborn girl named Lina. The other five were almost strangers. But they were a unit, bound together by their despair.
