Homecoming

CHAPTER 25: Wells

Wells stumbled into camp behind Clarke and Bellamy. His hands were numb from the cuffs that bound them behind his back, and his face stung from the branches and thorns that had scratched him as they trekked through the woods.

They stood outside the prison cabin. One of the guards removed the fabric gags from their mouths. Wells moved his jaw in a slow circle and opened and shut his mouth a few times, trying to regain sensation.

“Wait here,” the guard ordered. He scuttled inside while another man posted by the front door kept an eye on them. Wells, Bellamy, and Clarke all took the opportunity to look around. The camp sprawled out before them, and Wells could tell at a glance that it wasn’t the same place they’d left behind just a few days before. One look at Bellamy and Clarke’s wide eyes told him they saw it too.

Although it couldn’t have been much later than eight or nine at night, the camp was ominously quiet, except for the sounds of footsteps on the dusty ground and logs clattering on the pile. Two kids carrying firewood toward the pit wore tense, pained expressions. A boy hauling a water bucket looked near tears. A group of adults sat silently together by the fire, shooting nervous glances at the trees. No one spoke. No one laughed or gave one another a hard time. No one smiled. It was as if all the energy and camaraderie—all the life—had been sucked from the very air.

A breeze swept through the trees, and a putrid smell wafted into Wells’s nostrils. He suppressed his gag reflex, and he saw Clarke and Bellamy doing the same. Wells looked around and took a few steps toward the tree line. Sure enough, a rancid pile of animal skins, bones, and organs lay on the ground, covered in flies and slowly rotting. It was disgusting—and unsafe. Not only would the odor attract predatory animals, but the bacteria growing in that pile would be enough to sicken everyone in camp.

“What the hell…” Bellamy said hoarsely. At first, Wells assumed he was looking at the animals as well, but when he turned his head, he saw that Bellamy’s eyes were fixed on something else in the distance. A group of the original hundred were hard at work on a new cabin; he could hear their low grunts as they struggled to place an enormous log at the top of the growing wall. A few adults stood to the side, holding torches to illuminate the site, suggesting that they were planning to work long into the night.

That wasn’t remarkable in itself. With so many people crammed into the camp, it made sense to build new structures as quickly as possible. But then the moon slid out from behind a cloud, and Wells finally saw what had caught Bellamy’s attention.

As the moonlight shined down on the half-completed cabin, it glinted on their friends’ wrists, reflecting off something metallic. “No,” Wells breathed, blinking rapidly, unable to believe his eyes.

Each of them had a thick metal band clasped tightly around one wrist.

“This is madness,” Clarke said, a note of confusion in her voice, as if her scientist brain didn’t trust the image being transmitted through her eyes.

When they’d been taken from their cells in the detention center, each member of the hundred had been fitted with a tracking device. Ostensibly, they were meant to transmit vital signs back to the Colony, to let the Council know whether Earth was indeed survivable, or if their test subjects were slowly succumbing to radiation poisoning. However, within their first few days on Earth, most of them had either removed the bracelets or purposely damaged them beyond repair.

“Do you think Rhodes brought them down to Earth with him?” Wells asked.

“He must have,” Clarke said. “But why? It’s not like he has the technology to actually track any of them.”

Bellamy snorted. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Who knows what he brought on that dropship with him?”

“So… they’re prisoners again?” Clarke said, her voice disbelieving.

“So much for our ‘contribution’ and ‘sacrifice’,” Bellamy said, his voice thick with bitterness.

A few moments later, Wells, Bellamy, and Clarke were all yanked roughly into a line, standing shoulder to shoulder, with a guard behind each of them. Wells clenched his teeth as Vice Chancellor Rhodes approached, flanked by two armed guards of his own.

“Welcome back. I hope you three enjoyed your little holiday.”

“I see you’ve been busy making my friends play dress up,” Bellamy said with a sneer. “That’s quite the collection of bracelets you brought with you.”

Rhodes made a show of looking behind him. The kids who’d been busy building the cabin had stopped what they were doing and were staring at the prisoners in wide-eyed horror. Molly lowered her hammer and took a few steps forward, staring at Wells. Even from a distance, he could tell it was taking all her self-control not to run to him. He shook his head slightly, warning her against it.

“Ah, yes,” Rhodes said. “I do have a few extras, but it seems like a waste to give them to people who’ll soon have nowhere to wear them.”

“Really?” Bellamy managed one of his signature smirks. “Because I heard my trial is going to be the social event of the season.”

“Trial?” Rhodes repeated. “I’m afraid you must be mistaken. There’s not going to be a trial… for any of you. I’ve already found all three of you guilty. Your executions are scheduled for dawn.” He made a show of looking up at the sky. “Though, that does seem like a rather long time to wait. If any of you are in a rush, I’d be happy to expedite the proceedings.”

Wells’s heart froze in his chest, like an animal that’d just caught sight of the hunter’s drawn bow. What was Rhodes talking about? They hadn’t done anything meriting execution.

But before he could say anything, Bellamy made a sound that was half-shout, half-moan. “What the hell are you talking about? They didn’t do anything. I’m the one you wanted. I’m the one you need to kill.”

“They aided and abetted a fugitive. The punishment for that is perfectly clear in the Gaia Doctrine.”

“Fuck the Gaia Doctrine,” Bellamy spat. “We’re on Earth, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I see no reason to abandon the guidelines that have allowed humanity to flourish for centuries just because we’re on the ground.”

Wells had never felt such raw, pure loathing for anyone, or anything, in his entire life. “That’s not what my father would say, and you know it.”

Rhodes narrowed his eyes. “Your father isn’t here, Wells. And in case you were too busy seducing other little criminals”—he shot a glance at Clarke—“to pay attention during your civics tutorial, the Chancellor’s son doesn’t factor into the chain of command. I’m in charge, and I’ve sentenced the three of you to die by firing squad at first light.”

Wells heard Clarke gasp next to him, and his whole body went numb. He waited for another surge of fear or anger to kick in, but neither came. Perhaps there was a part of him that had expected this to happen. Perhaps there was a part of him that knew he deserved it. Even if Rhodes had no idea what Wells had done back on the ship, Wells was the reason their friends, their neighbors, were all slowly dying of oxygen deprivation. At least this way, he’d never have to face what he did. He wouldn’t have to look up every night, trying to picture the ship that would soon be filled with silent, still bodies.

“Oh my god, Bellamy!” The sound of Octavia’s voice pulled Wells back. She was running toward them, her face streaked with dirt and tears. Two guards stepped in front of her, blocking her path and holding her back. She fought against them but couldn’t get through. Bellamy called her name and lunged toward her, but a guard jabbed a gun to his ribs and he keeled over. “Stop it,” Octavia sobbed. “Let them go, please.”

“It’s okay, O,” Bellamy said hoarsely, struggling to catch his breath. “I’m okay.”

“No. I’m not going to let them do this to you.”

Other people had begun to gather around them. Lila walked up next to Octavia, and for a moment, Wells thought she was going to pull her away, but instead she put her arm around the younger girl and glared at the guards defiantly. She was joined by Antonio, Dmitri, then Tamsin and others. Even Graham came over to stand among them. Soon, there were nearly fifty people standing in a large semicircle around the prison cabin.

“Everyone, back up,” Rhodes commanded. When no one moved, he signaled to the guards who stepped menacingly toward the crowd. “I said move.”

But no one retreated. Not even when the guards raised their guns to their shoulders, half of them aiming at the prisoners, half out into the crowd. Some of the younger ones looked nervous, but most of them were staring at Wells, Bellamy, and Clarke with a mixture of rebellion and something else. Something like hope.

No matter how this ended, they needed to see how a real leader bore defeat. Wells would be honored to sacrifice himself if it meant no one else got hurt, and he certainly wasn’t going to face death like a coward. Wells turned back to Rhodes, raised his chin, and fixed the hateful man with his stare.

Bellamy moved even closer to Wells and stood shoulder to shoulder with him. Wells could tell by the set of Bellamy’s jaw that he was thinking the same thing. Clarke moved next to Bellamy, and the three of them stared down the Vice Chancellor together. Wells pushed away an image of the three of them lying bloodied on the ground, taking their last breaths in unison. Bellamy and Clarke both looked at him. Bellamy’s muscles were tensed, his body charged with energy. He was the embodiment of a resolve and strength Wells had never seen before. Clarke’s eyes were practically alight with emotion. They were filled with a fierceness and determination that stunned him.

“Okay, get moving,” a guard said. Someone reached from behind and tied a blindfold around him. Guards grabbed on to Wells’s arm and began to drag him away.

“Where are you taking me?” Wells grunted, digging his heels into the ground. With the blindfold covering his eyes, he focused as hard as he could on what he could hear, but the grunts and shuffling sounds told him nothing about what was happening to Clarke or Bellamy.

Wells struggled against his captors, but there was nothing he could do. He gritted his teeth and fought against the panic flooding his body. At least the last thing he’d seen were Clarke’s and Bellamy’s brave faces—that would be enough to get him through the next few hours. Wells knew he’d set sight on Earth for the last time.

By the time they removed the blindfold, there would be a bullet in his brain.