CHAPTER 4: Wells

Wells winced as he trudged up the slope toward the lake for the eighth time that day. He’d walked nearly twenty miles trekking back and forth, leading survivors to the camp and then heading back for another group.

There were more adults than kids in the clearing, a sight that seemed almost as a strange as the two-headed deer they’d spotted their first week on Earth. Their presence was made all the more conspicuous by the fact that they could do nothing more than stare in wonder and shock at their surroundings while, all around them, teens who’d been rotting away in a detention center just a few short weeks ago were barking out directions.

Wells had also been struck by the lack of happy reunions. He’d only witnessed two of them finding any relatives, and they were both Phoenicians. None of the Waldenites or Arcadians had any loved ones on the ships.

“I can’t believe I made it.” A young woman panted as she gratefully accepted Wells’s assistance climbing the steep slope.

“You had a pretty rough landing there,” he said, shortening his stride so it’d be easier for her to keep up. Although it’d been only a few weeks since his own arrival, he’d forgotten how unsteady he’d felt at first.

“Not the landing,” she said, stopping to look up at him. “On Phoenix. It was… terrifying.” She turned to glance up at the sky, then sighed and shook her head. “They don’t have much time left.”

Her words were like a fist to Wells’s gut. Before he could ask what she meant, though, Eric stepped in to lead the young woman through the woods to the camp, freeing Wells to return to the lake.

A hot coil of guilt tightened around Wells’s stomach. He didn’t need to know the details to understand that he had probably been responsible for whatever grim fate lay ahead for the people still on the Colony. He may have become a leader down here on Earth, but he was still a coldhearted murderer back on the ship. Wells could almost feel the cool metal of the airlock at his fingertips as he opened it, just a little, allowing precious oxygen to leak out of the ship. He had only been trying to speed up the inevitable so Clarke could travel to Earth before her eighteenth birthday—before her certain execution. But, he knew now, he had also hastened the demise of thousands of innocent people still trapped on the Colony.

As he got closer to the lake, he wrinkled his nose at the now-familiar smell of the crash site. Under the acrid scent of smoke and the metallic tang of blood and sweat, he sensed something else. It took him a moment to place it, but as soon as he did, his heart began to pound: It was fuel. The smashed dropships were leaking it into the grass, dirt, and water all around them. Most of the flames had started to die out, but all it would take was one spark in the wrong place to turn the whole place into an inferno.

Then, like a scene out of a nightmare, Wells saw it happen. About a hundred meters away, an enormous flame shot out the top of one of the charred dropships, hurtling chunks of flaming wreckage into the air. “Watch out!” Wells shouted, breaking into a run. “Everybody, move.”

Luckily, the injured had all been triaged in another area, but there was too much smoke in the air to confirm that the others had moved to safety. Wheezing, Wells ran forward, coughing and wiping his eyes with his sleeves as he called out for anyone who needed help.

There was a faint buzzing sound, like something flying through the air. Wells looked up but couldn’t see anything but dark gray smoke. It grew louder, but before Wells could react, he felt himself flying through the air, landing on the ground with a hard thud. He tried to roll over, but something—or someone—was on top of him. After a moment, the weight moved, and Wells looked up with a groan. Just a few meters from his head was an enormous piece of smoldering fuselage. If he hadn’t been knocked to the ground, it would’ve crushed his skull.

He turned to the other side and saw a slim figure standing over him, a girl wearing the Colony’s standard-issue thin gray pants and T-shirt. She reached for his hand and pulled him to his feet. “Thank you,” Wells said, blinking rapidly as he waited for his vision to clear. When the world came back into focus, the first thing he saw sent a wave of joy through him.

It was Glass.

They locked eyes at the same moment, and their faces lit up into matching giant grins. Wells closed the space between them in an instant and wrapped his arms around his childhood best friend, pulling her into a tight hug. A million images flashed rapid-fire through his brain—years of happy memories crashing together and replaying in a steady stream. He had been so focused on following Clarke to Earth that he hadn’t had much time to worry about Glass after she bolted from the dropship just before the hundred launched. The familiar smell of her hair—that particular blend of Glass and the synthetically scented shampoo back on the Colony—filled him with comfort, and for a brief moment, Wells was transported back to simpler times.

Growing up, she’d been the only one able to forget the fact that he was the Chancellor’s son, the only one who made him feel like he wasn’t on display. Around Glass, he could be immature, or playful, or sometimes even mischievous—like the time he said he was taking her to the archives to watch a video of some boring royal wedding when his real plan was to watch a great white shark attack an orca. And in turn, Glass wasn’t afraid to show him her goofy side. While the rest of the ship saw Glass as this perfectly polished, well-mannered Phoenician girl, Wells knew that she liked to make up silly dances and that she burst into laughter anytime someone mentioned Uranus.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Wells said, pulling away so he could look at her. “Are you okay? I was so worried about you.”

“Are you kidding? Think about how worried I was about you,” she said. “No one knew if you guys made it. Are you okay? What’s it like here?”

It made his head spin just thinking about how much he had to tell her. So much had happened since the last time they’d seen each other. He’d set the Eden Tree on fire to get himself arrested, been Confined, faced off with his father, rode with the rest of the hundred on the dropship Glass had escaped from, and spent the last few weeks fighting for his life on Earth.

“The weird thing is—” he started.

“Are there actually—” she said at the same time.

“You go first,” they both said together, then laughed. They pulled away from each other, the smiles fading on their lips as the scent of smoke and charred metal reminded them of where they were, and why. Wells struggled with the question that bubbled up in his throat, and the way Glass’s face grew serious told him she knew what he was thinking. He swallowed hard and found the courage to ask.

“Do you know anything about my father?”

Glass pressed her lips together, and her eyes filled with sympathy, a look Wells recognized from the terrible weeks after his mother’s death. Wells braced himself for whatever she was about to tell him, just grateful that if he had to hear agonizing news, it would be from her.

“They haven’t told anyone much,” she began, her voice soft but steady. Wells held his breath, waiting for her to continue. “But the last we heard, he was still in a coma.” Glass paused, waiting for him to absorb the information.

Wells nodded, his mind swirling with images of his father lying alone in the medical center, his tall, broad frame looking frail under a thin sheet. He focused his efforts on keeping his expression neutral as Glass’s words sank down into his chest, lodging themselves in the deepest part of his heart. “Okay,” he said with a long sigh. “Thanks for telling me.”

Glass stepped toward him. “Wells,” was all she said before wrapping her arms around him again, this time in a comforting embrace. Glass knew him far too well to let him get away with his stoic act. The best part of their friendship was that he didn’t mind.

After a long moment, they pulled away from each other. There was something Wells needed to tell Glass before she got to camp.

“Glass,” he started, “things are a little… different here on Earth than we expected.”

Concern flashed across her face. “What is it?”

He tried to choose his words carefully, but there was no way to sugarcoat the shocking, disorienting information. “We’re not alone. Here. On Earth.” He said it quietly so no one around them could hear. He waited for her to process what he’d said before continuing. At first, she smiled, looking ready to make a joke about all the hundreds of other Colonists around them. Then she grasped the implication of his words, and her expression shifted.

“Wells, are you saying…” Glass trailed off.

“Yes. There are other people here on Earth. People who were born here.”

Glass’s eyes grew large and round. “What?” She swiveled her head from side to side, as if expecting to see people watching her from the trees. “Are you serious? You can’t be serious.”

“I’m one hundred percent serious. But it’s okay. They’re very peaceful and kind. Well, most of them. There’s a small group that broke off about a year ago, and they’re dangerous. But the rest of them are just like us.” Wells thought of Sasha and couldn’t suppress a smile. “They’re actually pretty inspiring. The Earthborns are good people, maybe better people than we are. I think we have a lot to learn from them. I just have to figure out a way to let the others know without scaring anyone.”

Glass was staring at him, but it was no longer with confusion. “Wells,” she said slowly, a small smile forming at the corners of her mouth, “is there something you’re not telling me?”

He gave her a sidelong look. “Yes, there’s obviously a ton I haven’t told you yet. There was this terrible attack, and a fire, and then people started getting sick, and you’ll never guess what happened when—”

“No,” she said, cutting him off. “Something you’re not telling me about these Earthborns. Or maybe one in particular?”

“What? No.” He was usually pretty adept at hiding his thoughts, but something about Glass’s tone made his cheeks redden.

“Oh my god,” she whispered. “There’s a girl. An Earth girl.” Her voice was equal parts shock and delight.

“You’re crazy. There’s no Earth—” He cut himself off with a smile and shook his head. “How could you possibly have known that?”

Glass reached out and squeezed his arm. “You can’t keep secrets from me, Wells Jaha. It was the way you were talking about these inspiring Earthborns. You had the same look on your face that you got when you used to talk about Clarke.” Her expression grew less playful as her brow furrowed. “Does that mean you two broke up? What happened?”

Wells sighed. “It’s a long story, but I’m fine.” He smiled, thinking about the previous evening, lying with his head in Sasha’s lap as they stared up at the stars. “More than fine, actually. I can’t wait for you to meet Sasha.”

“Sasha,” Glass repeated, seeming slightly disappointed that it wasn’t a more exotic name. “Where is she?”

Before Wells could reply, a tall boy in a guard’s uniform approached, carrying a small water container with one hand, his other arm bound in a sling. Glass’s face lit up at the sight of him, and she didn’t look away as he passed the container to her and waited for her to take a sip. “Thanks,” she said, smiling at him before finally turning back to Wells. “Wells, this is Luke.”

Wells extended his arm and shook the guard’s good hand firmly. “I’m Wells. Nice to meet you.”

“I know. I recognize you, of course, and Glass has told me all about you. It’s really good to meet you, man,” Luke said, grinning as he released Wells’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder.

Glass hooked her arm through Luke’s and glanced back and forth between the two boys, beaming.

Wells grinned. He had no idea how Glass had ended up with a guard, let alone one who wasn’t from Phoenix, but none of that mattered down here. Besides, there was something about Luke that Wells liked right away. He seemed solid, sincere. Nothing like the slimy Phoenicians Glass used to date. She was clearly in love, and that was all Wells needed to know.

“Welcome to Earth,” Wells said with a smile, gesturing to the sky and trees and water all around them. As he did so, he noticed the blood covering Glass’s shirt. He inhaled sharply. Had she been hurt without realizing it? He pointed at her. “Glass, are you okay?”

Glass looked down at her shirt, and her face paled. “Yes, I’m fine,” she said quietly. “That’s… that’s not mine.” Luke wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in tight.

Wells’s stomach plummeted as he braced for the terrible news he could already feel hovering in the air, as if Glass’s pain were radiating out from the dark place she’d hidden it away.

Glass took a deep breath and tried to compose herself, but before she was able to form any more words, she crumpled and buried her face in Luke’s shirt. He whispered something into her ear that Wells couldn’t hear and stroked Glass’s hair.

Wells stared in horror. Part of him wanted to wrap his arms around his best friend, but that clearly wasn’t his place anymore. So he stood, waiting, until Luke turned to face him. “It’s her mother,” he whispered. “She’s dead.”

Загрузка...