“Really?” Clarke asked, pretending to believe the comment about a girl with a brother as she brushed a lock of hair off Lilly’s damp forehead. Even this far along in her sickness, Lilly had a flair for the dramatic.
“He sounds nice,” Clarke said vaguely as her eyes flitted toward the bald patches on Lilly’s head, which were becoming difficult to ignore.
“Anyway,” Lilly said, her voice strained, “I want to hear about your birthday. What are you going to wear?”
Clarke had almost forgotten that her birthday was next week. She didn’t feel much like celebrating. “Oh, you know, my best scrubs,” she said lightly. “I’d rather hang out here with you than go to some silly party, anyway.”
“Oh, Clarke,” Lilly groaned in mock exasperation. “You have to do something. You’re starting to be seriously boring. Besides, I want to hear about your birthday dress.” She winced suddenly, doubling over in pain.
“Are you okay?” Clarke asked, her hand on Lilly’s fragile arm.
“It hurts,” Lilly gasped.
“Can I get you anything? Do you want some water?”
Lilly opened her eyes, which were now pleading. “You can make it stop, Clarke.” She was cut off by a groan. “Please make it stop. It’s only a matter of time.…”
Clarke turned her head to the side so Lilly wouldn’t see her tears. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered, forcing a fake smile. “I promise.”
Lilly whimpered before falling silent again, then leaned back and closed her eyes.
Clarke pulled the blankets up over her friend’s chest, trying to ignore the demon that was clawing its way to the front of her mind. She knew what Lilly was asking for. And it wouldn’t be difficult. She was so frail at this point, it would take just a few well-combined painkillers to ease her into a coma. She’d slip away painlessly.
What am I thinking? Clarke asked herself, drawing back in horror. The blood on her parents’ hands had spread to her own. This whole nightmare had infected her, turned her into a monster. Or maybe it wasn’t her parents’ fault. Maybe she’d always had this darkness inside of her, waiting to rise to the surface.
Just as she was about to leave, Lilly spoke again. “Please,” she begged. “If you love me, please.” Her voice was quiet but contained an edge of desperation that terrified Clarke. “Just make it all stop.” Bellamy was chopping wood on the far side of the clearing. Although the morning was cool, his T-shirt was already soaked through with sweat. Clarke tried not to notice how it clung to his muscular chest. When he saw her running toward him, he lowered his ax to the ground and turned to face her with a grin.
“Well, hello there,” he said as she came to a stop and paused to catch her breath. “Couldn’t stay away, could you?” He stepped forward and placed his hand on her waist, but Clarke swatted his arm away.
“Where’s your sister?” she asked. “I can’t find her anywhere.”
“Why?” Urgency shoved the playfulness out of his voice. “What’s wrong?”
“The medicine we found is missing.” Clarke took a deep breath, bracing herself for her next words. “And I think Octavia took it.” “What?” His eyes narrowed.
“She was the only other person in the tent last night, and she seemed really fixated on the drugs—”
“No,” Bellamy snapped, cutting her off. “Of all the criminals on this goddamn planet, you think my sister is the thief?” He stared at her, his eyes burning with anger. But when he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “I thought you were different. But I was wrong. You’re just another stupid Phoenix bitch who thinks she knows better than everyone else.”
He kicked the handle of the ax, then pushed past her without another word.
For a moment, Clarke stood rooted to the ground, too stunned by Bellamy’s words to move. But then she felt something inside her tear, and suddenly she was running toward the trees, staggering into the shade of the forest canopy. Her throat raw, she slumped onto the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees to keep the anguish from flowing out of her chest.
Alone in the shadows, Clarke did something else on Earth for the first time. She cried.
19
Bellamy
Bellamy paused to adjust the bird that he’d slung over his shoulder. The confrontation with Clarke had left him so agitated that he’d grabbed his bow and stormed off into the woods without a second thought. Only after shooting this bird near the stream had he started to calm down. It was a good kill—his first bird, much harder than animals on the ground—and its feathers would be perfect for the new arrows he’d been working on, to take with them when he and Octavia headed out on their own. As he stepped back into camp, he realized that he hadn’t seen Octavia since early that morning, and felt a twinge of concern. He should have checked on her before he left.
The fire was already built up, and a dozen faces turned to look at Bellamy as he approached. But no one was smiling. He shifted the bird over to his other shoulder to give them a better view of his kill. Why the hell were they staring at him like that?
An angry shout pulled his attention to a group at the far end of the clearing, near the wreckage of the dropship. They were clustered in a circle around something on the ground. He inhaled sharply as the shape on the ground moved.
Then he saw her, and his confusion erupted into a rage unlike anything he’d ever felt.
It was Octavia.
He threw the bird on the ground and broke into a run.
“Out of my way,” Bellamy shouted as he forced his way inside the circle.
Octavia was on the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks. Graham and a few of the Arcadians stood over her, a deranged gleam in their eyes.
“Get away from her,” Bellamy bellowed as he charged forward. But before he could reach Octavia, an arm hooked around his neck, nearly crushing his windpipe. Bellamy wheezed and looked around frantically. Wells was standing in front of him, his expression cold and firm. “What the hell?” Bellamy sputtered. “Get out of my way.”
When Wells didn’t move, Bellamy gritted his teeth and lunged at him, but someone else had a hold on his collar and jerked him back. “Get off of me!” Bellamy spat, p wid He shooting his elbow back with enough force to make whoever was behind him grunt and let go.
Octavia was still on the ground, her eyes wide with terror as she looked from Bellamy to Graham, who was standing over her. “You better tell me what’s going o n , right now,” Bellamy said through clenched teeth.
“I heard you and Clarke talking about the missing medicine earlier,” Wells said with infuriating calmness. “No one besides Octavia knew about it. She must have taken it.”
“I didn’t take anything.” Octavia sobbed. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and sniffed. “They’ve all gone crazy.” She rose shakily to her feet and started to take a step toward Bellamy.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Graham snapped, grabbing Octavia’s wrist and wrenching her back.
“Let go of her!” Bellamy bellowed. He dove for Graham, but Wells stepped in front of him, and someone else wrenched his arm behind his back. “Get off of me!” Bellamy thrashed wildly as he tried to wrench himself free, but there were too many sets of hands holding him down, locking him in place.
“Look,” Bellamy continued, trying in vain to keep his voice steady, “she’s been injured ever since we landed. Do you really think she was up to stealing medicine and dragging it off somewhere outside of camp?”