The 100 (The 100 Series) (20 page)

“So what are you going to do?” Bellamy spat at Wells. “Keep us both tied up?”

“Exactly,” Wells said, his jaw tightening. “We’ll keep
Octavia locked up until she tells us where she hid the medicine, or we find evidence pointing to another suspect.”

“Lock her up?” Bellamy made a show of looking around the clearing. “And how do you propose to do that?”

Clarke stepped forward, a tense look on her face. “I spend most of the day in the infirmary tent, anyway,” she said curtly. “Octavia can stay there. I’ll keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t sneak off.”

“Are you serious?” Graham snorted. “She stole the medicine from under your nose, and your plan is to
keep an eye on her
?”

Clarke turned to Graham with a scowl. “If that’s not good enough for you, Graham, youu, , an can post a guard outside the door.”

“This is ridiculous.” Bellamy’s whole body was beginning to shake as his anger smoldered into exhaustion. “Look at her,” he said weakly. “She’s obviously not a danger to anyone. Just untie her and I promise I won’t let her out of my sight.” He scanned the crowd that had assembled around them, scouring the audience for a sympathetic face. Surely someone else saw that this whole thing was complete bullshit. But no one was willing to meet his eyes.

“You’re all insane.” His mouth curled into a snarl as he turned back to face Graham. “You set her up.
You
stole those meds.”

Graham snickered and shot a look at Asher. “I told you he was going to say that.”

The sky was growing dark, the clouds weaving into a blanket of gray. Bellamy took a deep breath. “Fine. Believe whatever you want. Just untie Octavia and let us go. We’ll leave camp for good. We won’t even take any of your precious supplies.” He glanced at his sister, but she didn’t look happy at the idea; her features seemed frozen in shock. “You’ll never have to think about us again.”

A fleeting look of pain crossed Clarke’s face before she retreated behind her mask of steely resolve.
She’ll get over it
, Bellamy thought bitterly. She’d find someone else to go traipsing through the woods with her.

“I don’t think so,” Graham said, sneering. “Not until we get back the meds. We can’t let anyone else die just because your little sister’s a drug addict.”

The accusation made every nerve in Bellamy’s body sizzle until his fingers itched to close around Graham’s neck.

“Enough,” Clarke said, shaking her head at Graham and raising a hand. “I want the medicine back more than anyone, but you’re not helping.”

“Fine,” Bellamy snapped. “But
I’m
taking her into the tent. And
no one
is going to put their hands on her again.”

He wrenched free from his captors and strode over to Octavia, grabbing her hand as he locked eyes with Graham.
“You’re going to regret this,” Bellamy said in a low, dangerous voice. He wrapped his arm around his trembling sister and led her toward the infirmary tent, a grim determination overtaking him.

He’d do whatever it took to protect her. He always had.

It was the third guard visit in the last few months. They had been coming more often that year, and Octavia was getting bigger. Bellamy tried not to think about what would happen next time, but even he knew they wouldn’t be able to hide her forever.

“I can’t believe they looked in the closet,” his mother said hoarsely, staring at Octavia, whom Bellamy had carried to the couch. “Thank god she didn’t cry.”

Bellamy looked over at his toddler sister. Everything about her was miniaturized, from her tiny sock-clad feet to her impossibly small fingers. Everything except her round cheeks and enormous eyes, which always glistened with tears she never seemed to shed. Was it normal for a two-year-old to be so quiet? Did she somehow know what would happen if someone found her?

Bellamy walked over and sat down next to Octavia, who turned her head to stare at him with her deep-blue eyes. He reached forward to touch one of her dark, glossy curls. She looked just l lo his cike that doll head he’d found while scavenging for relics in the storage room. He’d thought about taking it home to Octavia, but decided the ration points he’d get for it at the Exchange were
more important. He also hadn’t been sure whether it was right to give a baby a disembodied doll’s head, no matter how pretty it was.

He grinned as Octavia grabbed his finger with her tiny fist. “Hey, give that back,” he said, pretending to wince. She smiled but didn’t giggle. He couldn’t remember ever hearing her laugh.

“It was too close,” his mother was muttering to herself as she paced back and forth. “Too close… too close… too close.”

“Mom. Are you okay?” Bellamy asked, feeling his panic return. She walked over to the sink, which was still spilling over with dishes despite the fact that this morning had been their water hour. He hadn’t been able to finish before the guards came. It would be another five days before they’d have the chance to wash them again.

There was a faint crash down the hallway, followed by a peal of laughter. His mother gasped and looked around the flat. “Get her back in the closet.”

Bellamy put his arm in front of Octavia. “It’s fine,” he said. “The guards were just here. They’re not going to be back for a while.”

His mother took a step forward. Her eyes were wide and full of terror. “Get her out of here!”

“
No
,” Bellamy said, sliding off the couch and standing in front of Octavia. “That wasn’t even the guards. It was just someone messing around. She doesn’t need to go back in yet.”

Octavia whimpered but fell silent as their mother fixed her with a wild-eyed stare.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” their mother was muttering, running her hands distractedly through her already disheveled hair. She leaned back against the wall and slid down to the floor, landing with a sharp thud.

Bellamy glanced at Octavia, then walked slowly over to his mother, kneeling carefully beside her. “Mom?” A new kind of fear welled up inside him, different from what he’d felt during the inspectio
n. This fear was cold and seemed to be creeping out from his stomach, turning his blood to ice.

“You don’t understand,” she said faintly, staring at something just behind Bellamy’s head. “They’re going to kill me. They’re going to take you and they’re going to kill me.”

“Take me where?” Bellamy asked, his voice quivering.

“You can’t have both,” she whispered, her eyes growing even larger. “You can’t have both.” She blinked and refocused her gaze on Bellamy. “You can’t have a mother and a sister.”

Glass swept up the final flight of stairs and turned into her corridor. She wasn’t worried about being stopped by the guards for violating curfew. She felt like she was floating, her steps featherlight as she skimmed silently down the hallway. She raised her hand to her lips, where the memory of Luke’s kiss still lingered, and smiled.

It was a little after three in the morning; the ship was empty, the lights in the hallway a dim glow. Tearing herself away from Luke made her ache with an almost physical pain, but she knew better than to risk getting caught by her mother. If she fell asleep quickly enough, she might be able to trick
her mind into thinking that she was still with Luke, his warm, sleeping form curled up next to her.

She pressed her thumb against the key panel on the door and slipped inside.

“Hello, Glass.” Her mother’s voice came from the sofa.

Glass gasped and started stammering. “Hi, I was… I…” She fumbled for words, trying to come up with a plausible reason for why she’d been out in the middle of the night. But she couldn’t lie; not anymore, not about this.

They stood in silence for a long moment, and although she couldn’t make out the expression on her mother’s face, Glass could feel her confusion and anger radiating through the darkness. “You were with
him
, weren’t you?” Sonja finally asked.

“Yes,” Glass said, relieved to be telling the truth at last. “Mom, I love him.”

Her mother took a step forward, and Glass realized that she was still wearing a black evening dress, the outline of faded lipstick on her mouth, dying traces of her perfume in the air.

“Where were
you
tonight?” Glass asked wearily. It was like last year all over again. Ever since her father had left them, her mother had barely been around, staying out all hours of the night and sometimes sleeping through the day. Now Glass didn’t have the energy to be embarrassed, or even
angry, about her mother’s behavior. All she could feel was a faint pang of sadness.

Sonja’s lips twisted into a gruesome approximation of a smile. “You have no idea what I’ve done to protect you” was all she said. “You need to stay away from that boy.”

“That
boy
?” Glass cringed. “I know you think he’s just—”

“That’s
enough
,” her mother snapped. “Don’t you realize how lucky you are to even be here? I’m not going to let you die for some Walden trash who seduces Phoenix girls and then abandons them.”

“He’s not like that!” Glass exclaimed, her voice growing shrill. “You don’t even know him.”

“He doesn’t care about you. You were ready to
die
to save him. While you were in Confinement he’d probably forgotten all about you.”

Glass winced. It was true that Luke had started seeing Camille while Glass was in Confinement. But she couldn’t blame him, not after the cruel things she’d said when she broke up with him in a desperate attempt to keep him safe.

“Glass.” Sonja’s voice quivered with the strain of trying to remain calm. “I’m sorry to be harsh. But with the Chancellor still on life support, you need to be careful. If he wakes up and has any reason, any reason at all, to revoke your pardon, he will.” She sighed. “I can’t let you risk your life again. Have you already forgotten what happened last time?”

But of course Glass hadnbly las>

And her mother didn’t even know the whole truth.

Glass ignored the guards’ strange looks as she passed the checkpoint and began crossing the skybridge toward Walden. Let them think she was off to buy drugs if they wanted. No punishment they gave her could possibly hurt more than what she was about to do.

It was late afternoon, and the corridors were thankfully empty. Luke would be back from his morning shift by now, but Carter would still be at the distribution center, where he worked sorting nutrition packets. Glass knew it was foolish—Carter hated her, and he would hate her even more once he found out that she had broken Luke’s heart—but she couldn’t bear to break up with Luke with Carter in the other room.

She paused at the door, absently bringing her hand to her stomach. She had to do it now. She’d already put this off so many times. She’d muster the courage to break up with him, then hesitate as the terrible words rose to her mouth.
Next time
, she always promised herself.
I just need to see him one more time.

But now her stomach was growing noticeably rounder. Even on half rations, it was getting harder and harder for Glass to disguise her weight gain under the shapeless dresses that
prompted snickers from Cora. Soon she would start to show. And once she did, there would be questions. The Council would demand to know who the father was. If she was still in touch with Luke, he would find out, and volunteer himself in some misguided attempt to save her that would only end in both of their deaths.

You’re saving his life
, Glass told herself as she knocked on the door, realizing that this was the last time she would ever stand in this spot. The last time she’d see Luke smile at her like she was the only girl in the universe. Her own words of encouragement sounded hollow to her ears.

But when the door opened, it wasn’t Luke standing there. It was Carter, wearing nothing but a pair of plain work pants.

“He’s not here,” he growled, his eyes narrowing as he took in her flushed cheeks.

“Oh, sorry,” Glass said, taking an involuntary step back. “I’ll come back later.”

But Carter surprised her by reaching out and grabbing her arm, his hand clamping painfully over her wrist.

“What’s the hurry?” he asked with a sudden grin that made her stomach churn. “Come on in and wait. I’m sure he just got held up.”