Day 21

CHAPTER 2 Clarke

They’d been walking for two days, pausing only for an hour or two at a time to rest. The backs of Clarke’s legs burned, but Bellamy showed no signs of stopping. Clarke didn’t care—in fact, she welcomed the pain. The more she thought about her hamstrings, the less she thought about the ache in her chest, and the friend she hadn’t been able to save.

She took a deep breath. Even if she’d been blindfolded, she’d be able to tell that the sun had set. The air was heavy with the scent of the white blossoms that only unfurled at night, making the trees look like they’d dressed for dinner. Clarke wished she knew what sort of evolutionary advantage the strange flowers provided. Maybe they attracted a type of nocturnal insect? Their distinct perfume bordered on overwhelming in the spots where the trees grew close together, but Clarke preferred them to the orderly rows of apple trees she and Bellamy had seen earlier. Her neck prickled as she recalled the evenly spaced trunks, like straight-backed guards standing in formation.

Bellamy was walking a few meters ahead of her. He had gone quiet, just as he did on his hunting expeditions. But this time, he wasn’t tracking a rabbit or stalking a deer. He was looking for his sister.

It had been almost a whole day since they’d seen the last set of footprints, and the unspoken truth thickened the silence until Clarke could feel it pressing against her chest.

They’d lost Octavia’s trail.

Bellamy paused at the top of the hill, and Clarke stopped next to him. They were standing on the edge of a ridge. Just a few meters ahead, the ground sloped sharply down to a glimmering body of water. The moon above was huge and bright, while a second moon trembled just below, reflected on the surface.

“It’s beautiful,” Bellamy said without looking at her, but there was an edge to his voice.

Clarke placed a hand on Bellamy’s arm. He flinched but didn’t pull away. “I bet Octavia thought so too. Should we go down and see if there’s any sign…” Clarke trailed off. Octavia hadn’t gone for an impromptu stroll through the woods. Neither of them would say it aloud, but Octavia’s sudden disappearance, the way her footprints suggested she was dragged—she had been taken.

But by whom? Clarke thought of the apple trees again, and shuddered.

Bellamy took a few steps forward. “It looks a little less steep over here,” he said, reaching out to grab her hand. “Come on.”

They didn’t speak as they made their way down the slope. When Clarke slipped on a patch of slick mud, Bellamy tightened his hold and helped her regain her balance. But the moment they reached level ground, he let go and jogged toward the water, examining the bank for footprints.

Clarke hung back, staring at the lake as wonder swept away the exhaustion that had settled in her limbs. The surface was as smooth as glass, and the reflection of the moon looked like one of the gems she’d seen occasionally at the Exchange, locked up in a transparent case.

When Bellamy turned around, his expression was weary, almost defeated. “We should probably rest,” he said. “There’s no point in wandering through the dark without a trail.”

Nodding, Clarke let her pack slide to the ground, then raised her arms into the air and stretched. She was tired and sweaty, and there was a days-old layer of ash on her skin that she was desperate to wash off.

She walked slowly toward the lake, crouching down at the edge and skimming her fingertips across the surface. When they’d first arrived on Earth, she’d been diligent about purifying any water they used to drink or bathe, in case it was contaminated with radioactive bacteria. But she was running out of iodine drops, and after watching a fire kill her best friend while her ex-boyfriend restrained her, a little lake water seemed like the least of her problems.

Clarke exhaled deeply and closed her eyes, letting her tension dissipate with her breath into the night air.

She rose to her feet and turned to look at Bellamy. He stood perfectly still, staring across the lake with an intensity that made Clarke shiver. Her first instinct was to slip away and give him his space. But then another impulse took over, and a mischievous smile slinked across her face.

Without a word, she pulled her sweat-soaked shirt over her head, kicked off her boots, and stepped out of her dirt-and ash-streaked pants. She spun on her heel, wishing she could see the look on Bellamy’s face as he watched her step into the lake wearing nothing but her bra and underwear.

The water was colder than she’d realized, and her skin began to prickle, although she wasn’t sure if it was from the night air or the sensation of Bellamy’s eyes on her.

She waded forward, yelping as the water swirled around her shoulders. Water was far too scarce on the Colony to justify baths, and this was the first time Clarke had ever felt her entire body submerged. She experimented with lifting her feet out of the mud and trying to float, feeling strangely powerful and vulnerable. For a moment, she forgot that a fire had taken her best friend’s life. She forgot that she and Bellamy had lost Octavia’s trail. She forgot that her improvised swimming outfit was going to be see-through whenever she emerged from the water.

“I think the radiation must’ve finally scrambled your brain.”

Clarke twisted around and saw Bellamy looking at her with a combination of surprise and amusement. His familiar smirk had returned.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and ducked under the surface, popping up a second later with a laugh as water streamed down her face. “It’s fine.”

Bellamy stepped forward. “So your keen scientific mind knew instinctively that the water was safe?”

Clarke shook her head. “No.” She lifted a hand into the air and made a show of examining it. “I could be growing flippers and gills as we speak.”

Bellamy nodded with mock solemnity. “Well, if you grow flippers, I promise not to shun you.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m not going to be the only mutant.”

Bellamy raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Clarke cupped her hands, filled them with water, and splashed it at Bellamy with a laugh. “Now you’ll grow flippers too.”

“You really shouldn’t have done that.” Bellamy’s voice was low and menacing, and for a moment, Clarke thought she might’ve actually upset him. But then he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head in one swift motion.

The moon was so large and bright that there was no mistaking the grin on Bellamy’s face as he reached down to undo the button on his pants, tossing them aside like they weren’t the only pair he had on the planet. His long, well-muscled legs were pale in his gray shorts. Clarke blushed but didn’t look away.

Bellamy plunged into the lake and closed the distance between them with a few powerful strokes. He’d boasted about teaching himself to swim during his treks to the stream, and for once, he hadn’t been exaggerating.

He disappeared under the water, just long enough for Clarke to feel a flicker of worry. Then his hand grasped her wrist, and she squealed as he spun her around, expecting him to splash her in retaliation. But Bellamy just stared at her for a moment before raising a hand and running his finger along her neck. “No gills yet,” he said softly.

Clarke shivered as she looked up at him. His hair was slicked back away from his face, and water droplets clung to the stubble along his jawline. His dark eyes burned with an intensity that was worlds away from his usual playful grin. It seemed hard to believe he was the same boy she’d carelessly flung her arms around in the woods.

Something shifted in his gaze, and she closed her eyes, sure that he was about to kiss her. But then a crack sounded from the trees, and Bellamy’s head whipped around. “What was that?” he asked. Without waiting for Clarke to respond, he took off for the shore, leaving her alone in the water.

Clarke watched Bellamy grab his bow and disappear into the shadows. She sighed, then silently chastised herself for her foolishness. If it’d been her family they were seeking, she wouldn’t waste time playing in the water either. She tilted her head back, sending drops of water trickling off her face as she stared up at the sky and thought about the two bodies drifting among those very stars. What would her parents say if they could see her now, here on the planet they had always dreamed of calling home?

“Clarke!” Bellamy emerged from the tree line, breathless. It was too dark to see the expression on his face, but she could hear the urgency in his voice. “Come and see this!”

Clarke stumbled awkwardly through the water. She reached the muddy bank and, forgetting that she was barely dressed, broke into a run, ignoring the rocks under her bare feet and the sting of the chilly night air.

He was crouched on the ground, staring at something Clarke couldn’t make out.

“Bellamy!” she called. “Are you okay? What was that sound?”

“Nothing. A bird or something. But look at this. It’s a footprint.” He pointed at the ground, his smile shimmering with hope. “It’s Octavia’s, I’m sure of it. We found the trail.”

Relief coursed through Clarke as she knelt down for a better look. There seemed to be another print a few meters away, in a patch of mud. Both looked fairly recent, as if Octavia had walked by only hours earlier. But before she could reply, Bellamy stood up, pulled Clarke to her feet, and kissed her.

He was still wet from the lake, and as he wrapped his arms around her waist, her damp skin clung to his. For a moment, the world around them faded away. All that existed was Bellamy—the warmth of his breath, the taste of his lips. He moved one of his hands from her waist to her lower back and Clarke shivered, suddenly acutely aware that she and Bellamy were standing in their underwear, dripping wet.

A cold breeze shuddered through the thick canopy of leaves and danced across the nape of Clarke’s neck. She shivered again, and Bellamy slowly unlocked his lips from hers. “You must be freezing,” he said, rubbing his hands up and down her back.

She cocked her head to the side. “You’re wearing even less clothing than I am.”

Bellamy ran his finger up her arm, then tugged playfully at her damp bra strap. “We can fix that, if it bothers you.”

Clarke smiled. “I think it’s probably a good idea to put on more clothes before we head off into the woods to follow those footprints.” Even though she didn’t think the tracks would vanish overnight, she knew Bellamy wouldn’t want to stop now that he’d found the trail.

He looked at Clarke. “Thank you,” he said, leaning over to kiss her again before he took her hand and led her toward the shore.

They dressed quickly, then grabbed their packs and headed back into the shadow-filled woods. The trail was fairly easy to follow, although Bellamy kept spotting the next print long before Clarke saw anything. Had his eyes grown that sharp from hunting? Or was it the by-product of his desperation? “Forget the gills. I think you’ve developed night vision,” she called when he dashed toward yet another footprint she hadn’t noticed. She’d meant it as a joke, of course, but then she frowned. The radiation levels on Earth clearly weren’t as high as she’d once feared, but that didn’t mean they were safe yet. Low-level radiation poisoning could take weeks to present, even if their cells had already begun to deteriorate. For all she knew, that was why no more dropships had arrived. What if the Council wasn’t waiting to determine whether Earth was safe—because the hundred’s biometric data had already proved that it wasn’t?

Her heart racing, Clarke glanced down at the monitor clamped to her wrist and counted the days they’d been on Earth. She looked up at the moon, which was three-quarters full. It had been a pale sliver that first terrible night after they’d crashed. Her stomach plummeted as she remembered a pivotal moment in her parents’ research. The day most patients grew sicker. Day twenty-one.

“I’m used to looking for things in the dark,” Bellamy said ahead of her, oblivious to her anxiety. “Back on the Colony, I’d sneak into the abandoned storage areas. Most of them didn’t have electricity anymore.”

Clarke winced as a branch scraped her leg. “What were you looking for?” she asked, shoving aside her concern. If anyone did begin presenting signs of radiation poisoning, they had some medicine that might help, albeit a paltry amount.

“Old machine parts, textiles, the odd Earthmade relic—anything worth trading at the Exchange.” His tone was casual, but she could hear a hint of strain in his voice. “Octavia didn’t always get enough to eat at the care center, so I had to find a way to get extra ration points.”

The admission pulled Clarke from her own thoughts. Her heart ached at the idea of a younger, slighter version of the boy in front of her, alone in a dark, cavernous storage area. “Bellamy,” she started, searching for the right words, then cut herself off as she caught sight of something glinting from the shadowy depths behind the trees. She knew she should keep moving; they couldn’t afford to lose any more time. Yet something about the way it shimmered brought Clarke to a stop.

“Bellamy, come look at this,” she said, turning to walk toward it.

There was something on the ground, scattered among the roots of a large tree. Clarke bent down for a closer look and saw that it was metal. She inhaled sharply and reached out to run her finger along one of the long, twisted pieces. What could it have been part of? And how had it ended up here, in the middle of the woods?

“Clarke?” Bellamy shouted. “Where did you go?”

“I’m over here,” she called back. “You need to see this.”

Bellamy materialized soundlessly next to her. “What’s going on?” He was breathing heavily, and there was an edge to his voice. “You can’t just take off like that. We need to stick together.”

“Look.” Clarke picked up a piece of metal and held it in the moonlight. “How could this have survived the Cataclysm?”

Bellamy shifted from one foot to the other. “No clue,” he said. “Now can we keep moving? I don’t want to lose the trail.”

Clarke was about to set the strange artifact back on the ground when she noticed two familiar letters carved into the metal. TG. Trillion Galactic. “Oh my god,” she murmured. “It came from the Colony.”

“What?” Bellamy crouched down next to her. “It must be part of the dropship, right?”

Clarke shook her head. “I don’t think so. We have to be at least six kilometers from camp. There’s no way this is wreckage from the crash.” At least, not our crash.

Clarke felt suddenly disoriented, as if trying to discern between a memory and a dream. “There are more pieces scattered around. Maybe they’ll be something that’ll—” She cut herself off with a cry as a jolt of pain shot through her right arm.

“Clarke? Are you okay?”

Bellamy’s arm was around her, but she couldn’t look at him. Her eyes were fixed on something on the ground.

Something long, dark, thin, and wriggling.

She tried to point the creature out to Bellamy, but found that she couldn’t move. “Clarke! What’s wrong?” he shouted.

Clarke opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her chest was beginning to tighten. Her arm was on fire.

“Oh, shit,” she heard Bellamy say. She couldn’t see him anymore. The world around her had begun to spin. Stars and sky and trees and leaves swirled in the darkness. The searing heat that had been shooting up her arm faded away. Everything was fading. She fell back against Bellamy, then felt herself being lifted into the air. She was weightless, just like she’d been in the lake. Just like her parents were now.

“Clarke, stay with me,” Bellamy called to her from somewhere very far away. The darkness was rushing around her, wrapping her legs and arms in stars.

And then there was only silence.