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The 100 (The 100 Series) by Kass Morgan (28)

 

Bellamy couldn’t sleep. His mind was a jumble of thoughts all elbowing for his attention, making it impossible to tell where one stopped and the other began.

Staring up at the stars, he tried to imagine what was happening on the ship. It was strange to think of life going on as usual hundreds of kilometers away—the Waldenites and Arcadians toiling away while the Phoenicians complimented one another’s outfits on the observation deck and ignored the stars. That was the only thing he’d miss about the Colony—the view. Before the launch, he’d heard of a comet passing, which would’ve been pretty spectacular to see from the ship.

He squinted into the darkness, trying to figure out how many days they’d been on Earth. If he’d counted correctly, then the comet was meant to appear tonight. There was going to be a fancy viewing party on Phoenix, and less-formal gatherings on Walden and Arcadia. Bellamy sat up and scanned the sky. He couldn’t see anything from the clearing—the trees blocked too much of the sky—but he’d have a better view from the ridge.

Octavia was sleeping peacefully beside him, her glossy hair fanned out underneath her, her red hair ribbon tied to her wrist. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered, then took off at a jog across the clearing.

The thick canopy of leaves blocked most of the starlight, but after all his hunting expeditions, he knew this area of the forest well, anticipating every slope and turn and hidden log. When he finally reached the ridge, he paused to catch his breath. The cool night air had helped to clear his head, and the burning in his calves was a welcome distraction.

The star-filled sky looked just as it had every other night since they’d landed on Earth, and yet there was something different about it—the stars were pulsing, charged, as if waiting for something big to happen. And then, all at once, it did. The comet erupted across the sky, a streak of gold against the glittering silver, brightening everything around it, even the ground.

His skin sizzled as if some of the sparks had seeped into his own body, invigorating his cells with something beyond energy—with hope. Tomorrow he and Octavia would leave here for good. Tomorrow they would be free of the Colony forever, no one telling them what to do or how to be.

He closed his eyes and imagined how that would feel. Freedom from everyone and everything—even from his past. Even, perhaps, from the memories that had haunted him all his life.

Bellamy ran down the walkway, ignoring his neighbors’ grumbles and the empty threats of the guards he knew were too lazy to chase a remarkably fast nine-year-old just to issue a reprimand. But as he got closer to his flat, his excitement slipped away. Ever since that terrible night when he caught his mom trying to hurt Octavia, he got nervous coming home.

He unlocked the door and burst inside. “Mom?” he called, carefully shutting the door behind him before he said anything else. “Octavia?” He waited, but there was only silence. “Mom?” he said again. He walked through the main room, his eyes widening at the overturned furniture. His moding entther must have been in another one of her bad moods. He crept toward the kitchen, his stomach wriggling like it was trying to escape through his belly button.

Someone groaned, and he rushed inside to find his mother on the floor, lying in a sticky puddle of blood. A knife lay beside her.

He gasped and hurried over, shaking her shoulder frantically. “Mom,” he shouted. “Wake up. Mom.” But all she did was flutter her eyelids and let out another faint groan. Bellamy leapt to his feet, gasping as he realized the knees of his pants were soaked with blood. He had to find someone. He had to get help.

He dashed back into the main room and was about to go run for a guard when a noise brought him skidding to a halt. His eyes fell on the closet, which was slightly open, a sliver of shadow creeping out of the gap between the door and the wall. He took a few steps toward it as a tiny tearstained face peeked out.

“Are you okay?” he whispered to his sister, reaching for her hand. “Come on.” But she shrank back into the darkness, trembling. Bellamy’s fear for his mother slid away as he stared at the little girl she’d made terrified to come into the light. “Come on, Octavia,” he coaxed, and slowly, tentatively, she poked her head out again.

Finally, she toddled out of the closet, looking around the room with wide eyes. “Here,” Bellamy said, picking up the red ribbon he’d given her from the floor of the closet. He tied it around her dark curls in his best approximation of a bow. “You look beautiful.” He grabbed her hand, feeling his heart swell as her little fingers wrapped around his. He led her to their mother’s bedroom, lifted her onto the bed, then curled up next to her, praying that he wouldn’t hear any other noises from the kitchen.

They sat there together on the bed, waiting quietly, until finally their mother’s moans stopped and there was only silence.

“It’s okay, O,” he said, holding his little sister tight to his chest. “It’s okay. You’ll never have to hide again.”

As the comet’s trail faded into blackness, Bellamy hurried back down the slope, eager to get back before Octavia woke up and realized he’d gone. But as he came around the bend, searching for the familiar collection of tents, all he could see were flames.

The entire camp was on fire.

Bellamy skidded to a stop, gasping as his lungs took their first breath of smoke-filled air. For a moment, his vision was filled with flames and shadows, but then shapes began to emerge. Figures were sprinting in every direction, some pouring out of the burning tents while others rushed toward the trees.

Only one thought consumed him as he jogged over to their blankets, his eyes searching the darkness for his sister’s sleeping form. The knot of dread in his stomach told him what he already knew. Octavia wasn’t there.

He called her name, jerking his head from side to side, praying that she’d call to him from the edge of the clearing, from someplace safe.

“Octavia!” he yelled again, looking wildly in all directions, squinting to see through the smoke. Don’t panic, he told himself, but it was no use. The flames tore through the darkneughin, lookinss and Octavia was nowhere to be found.

Bellamy had come down from scanning the heavens only to find himself in the depths of hell.