Homecoming

CHAPTER 27: Wells

Wells lost track of Bellamy in the chaos. He had no idea how many Earthborns he had fended off. His hands were blistered and raw from gripping and swinging the ax, and his muscles ached with fatigue. Wells found himself standing momentarily alone with no one charging or grabbing him—a respite in the sea of struggle. All around him, people fought for their lives, while others lay on the ground, wounded or dead. Wells couldn’t tell who had the upper hand, the Earthborns or his comrades, but he feared it was the enemy. The Colonists and the hundred looked like they were getting beaten, badly. He needed to get a better vantage point.

No one seemed to notice as he slipped away from the scrum, leaping over bodies and rubble, and headed for the edge of the clearing. He moved a few meters into the woods and circled toward the side of the camp, where he knew he could be less visible and get a higher sight line. He could still hear the cries and moans of injured people as he ran through the thick foliage.

Wells emerged from the forest near the prison cabin. He quickly scaled the side and perched atop the building, scanning the battleground. He was shocked by what he saw. From the middle of the fight, it felt like total mayhem, but the Earthborns had clearly been strategic about their attack. They had destroyed nearly every vital element of the camp: several of their food stores, all the extra ammunition. Yet the dormitories, dining hall, and prison were intact. There was no way they could have just guessed which buildings’ destruction would cripple the Colonists the most. They had to have known the purpose of each.

Wells struggled to figure out how. Spying, maybe, but the Colonists had routinely swept the woods around camp and hadn’t caught anyone yet. Just then, a small group of Earthborns stormed through the center of camp, their stolen guns raised high. Wells gasped in shock and horror when he saw who led them: Kendall.

She was no longer wearing the clothes of a Colonist, and in a sick flash, Wells had all his worst suspicions confirmed. Kendall was an Earthborn.

Everything made sense. Her forced Phoenician accent, the way her stories never quite added up, her insistence on following Wells around. She’d been spying on them all along.

Wells could have kicked himself for not acting on his hunch. He had known in his gut that something was wrong, but he hadn’t done anything about it. He had backed down when Rhodes told him to. And that’s what she had relied on. Kendall had known that the arrival of more dropships, more people—grown-ups—would weaken the Colonists’ community, not strengthen it. That’s what she had taken advantage of.

He was completely useless as a leader. What had he been thinking, pretending like he had what it took to inspire, to keep the others safe? No matter what he did or where he went, people suffered.

Wells heard a scrabbling sound in the cabin beneath him. The Earthborns had invaded the prison, and he was the only Colonist on this side of camp. He hefted his ax over his shoulder and prepared to face them. He might not be the leader his people deserved, but he could still kill a few Earthborns for them.

He would wait until they came outside, then attack from above. He squatted down and tried not to move, for fear of making any sound.

Two small figures scurried out of the cabin into the shadows below him, a small boy and girl. Wells recognized the boy—it was Leo, one of the kids Octavia had been caring for. What was he doing on his own? Why hadn’t Rhodes assigned anyone to look after the parentless children after dragging Octavia away to witness her brother’s execution?

They were both trembling, tears running down their cheeks. “Hey,” Wells whispered loudly. Their heads shot up to look at him, and the boy let out a scared squeal. “It’s okay—it’s just me. Watch out. I’m coming down.”

Wells hopped onto the ground next to them. “Are you over here alone?” Wells asked. The girl shook her head. Wells turned; six more older kids emerged from the cabin, including Molly and the other younger members of the hundred. Their faces were dirty and bloodied; their shoulders slumped with fear and exhaustion. They stood silently, expectantly, watching him. Another handful of them began to step quietly out of the trees behind the cabin, where they had been hiding, and then another followed, until almost all the members of the original hundred stood before him.

Wells looked at each of their faces, these teenagers who up until a few weeks ago had just been normal young people locked up for some trumped up infraction.

They had been taken from their families, thrown in a cell, and, for all they could tell, forgotten. Now they were on a planet far from anyone they once knew and loved—people who were all dead by now. All they had was each other.

Rhodes didn’t understand what it meant to be a community. He’d never be able to appreciate what the hundred had created during their short time on Earth, the foundations they’d laid for a better future. They weren’t perfect—Wells knew that better than anyone—but they had what it took to turn the planet into a real home. Maybe now wasn’t the time for him to stop trying. Maybe now was the time to accept the mistakes he made and move forward, learning from them. He’d never make up for what he did on the Colony, or the pain he’d caused Max and Sasha, but that didn’t mean he had to give up.

Slowly a plan formed in Wells’s mind. All the time spent talking through tactics with Max at Mount Weather had brought back everything he’d learned in his strategy classes. Their plan at Mount Weather had been a good one—to surprise the enemy from behind and take advantage of the attackers’ position. There had just been extenuating circumstances—Rhodes had had the upper hand, with hostages back at camp. Well, not this time. Wells knew what they had to do. He just couldn’t do it alone.

A renewed fire coursed through Wells. After all the hundred had faced, after all they had worked for, he wasn’t going to let Kendall and her vicious accomplices take them down. No way.

“Listen up!” he yelled. Dozens of eyes locked on him, filled with a desperate longing for direction. “I know you’re tired, and I know you’re scared,” he began. “I know there are more of them than there are of us. They have more weapons. But we have each other—and we aren’t going to let them win.”

Bellamy appeared at the back of the crowd. He looked wiped out, but Wells was glad to see that he was all right. They nodded at each other, and Wells continued. “They’re coming at us from the north, and they’re pushing us back against the tree line that way.” Wells gestured with his ax. “They’re busy with Rhodes’s guys right now. You”—he signaled to one of the older boys—“stay behind to guard these younger kids. The rest of us will spread out into the woods and circle around to the north. We can attack them from behind. Who’s with me?”

For a second, they all just stared at him. Wells wasn’t sure he had read them right. Then a hand shot up, then another, then a dozen more. They pushed their shoulders back, raised their chins, and planted their feet firmly on the ground. Bellamy stood at the back, smiling grimly.

“Let’s do it!” someone shouted from the small crowd. A rousing cheer went up, and Wells, for the first time since Sasha’s death, didn’t feel panic in the face of responsibility. He felt exhilaration.

“Okay. On my count. Three… two… one!”

At first the plan seemed to work: The hundred startled the Earthborns with the attack from behind, pushing them toward Rhodes’s men, who kept up their defense on the opposite flank. But Wells soon lost track of what was happening around him as he struggled to stay alive. Two Earthborns approached Wells at once, each wielding a spear. Wells feinted with the ax in his hand, pretending to swing to the right. As they both reacted in that direction, he turned in a circle and swung the ax from the left, hacking one Earthborn’s spear into two pieces. The other stepped forward, and Wells sank the ax blade deep into his spear. It splintered into shards on the ground, and the two disarmed Earthborns scurried off.

Wells allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. During officer training, he’d worked hard in his Earth-combat conditioning classes, and it was paying off now. But just as a gratified smile flickered across his face, he felt an arm wrap tightly around his neck.

Wells tried to jab his elbows into his opponent, but he couldn’t get enough leverage. The man’s arm tightened, making it impossible for Wells to breathe. He couldn’t even gasp—there was no way for air to get in or out. His lungs began to burn as his head spun.

No, Wells thought, wanting to scream but unable to make a sound. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. This wasn’t how it was meant to end.

The Earthborn’s arm tightened even further. Wells saw flashes of light in front of him, then patches of black as everything grew blurry.

Suddenly, the pressure released, and Wells fell to the ground with a gasp. For a long moment, all he could do was wheeze as his lungs became reacquainted with the air, clawing at it greedily. He rose up onto his knees and looked around. An enormous Earthborn was lying on his side, his hand clutched around the shaft of an arrow embedded in his arm.

Wells turned in the direction the arrow had come from. Bellamy stood a few meters away, a twinkle in his eye. He nodded at Wells, who just grinned back.

“Thanks!” Wells shouted.

“No problem,” Bellamy called back.

Wells turned back in the direction of camp. For a moment, his whole body seized with panic: From where he stood in the woods, he couldn’t see a single other member of the hundred still fighting near him. He swore under his breath and gathered his last ounce of energy before barreling back out into the clearing, Bellamy close behind him.

What he saw stopped him in his tracks. The hundred and the Colonists who could still stand were gathered together in a group, their chests heaving as they caught their breath. The few remaining guards seemed to have captured someone of importance—a large Earthborn man with a wounded leg, who was being held at gunpoint. Several other Colonists were speaking animatedly with a small group of Earthborns, seemingly negotiating terms, as the rest of the Earthborns sullenly surrendered their weapons and slowly backed away.

Wells couldn’t believe it. It had worked! They were negotiating a surrender! Filled with new energy, he and Bellamy raced over to where the remainder of the hundred were standing. Sure, they were exhausted and injured, but they were victorious. Together, they sent up an eardrum-rattling cheer that seemed to echo up to the sky and back.

“Nice work!” Bellamy shouted over the celebratory din.

“You didn’t do too badly either… for a Waldenite,” Wells yelled back with a grin.

The assembled group danced around the clearing, hugging and cheering, until a cry rose above the noise.

“They’re back!” someone screamed.

Wells and Bellamy spun around to find a group of strangers stumbling out of the woods and into camp. They raised their weapons and stood their ground. Something about these new arrivals, though, was different. Wells quickly took in their clothes, their demeanor, their confused expressions. These weren’t Earthborns. These were… more Colonists?

The group stopped on the edge of the clearing. A woman stepped forward.

“We found you,” she said, breathing heavily, her voice weak.

She looked vaguely familiar to Wells. He struggled to place her, and then it came to him: She had worked in his father’s administration, in an office down the hall. They must have been on another dropship—one of the few that they figured must have veered off course.

“Please, do you have anything to eat?” she asked. Wells hadn’t noticed at first how gaunt she and the others looked.

“It’s okay,” Wells said to the group. “They’re from the Colony. Someone, please, get them some food and water.”

A couple of kids scurried off.

Wells stepped forward. He felt hundreds of eyes on his back. “Where are you coming from?” he asked.

“Our dropship landed miles from here, way beyond the far side of the lake. We spent some time getting our bearings and recovering from our injuries. Then it took us several days to get to you. We followed the smoke from your campfires.”

“How many of you are there?”

“We lost a few. But we started out as one hundred and fifteen.”

Wells cast his gaze over the large group assembled behind her. Still more people emerged from the woods.

“Were you the last ship to launch from the Colony?”

The woman nodded.

Wells felt a question forming on his lips, but he wasn’t sure he had the courage to ask it. He wasn’t sure he really wanted the answer.

“My father—” he began.

The woman’s expression softened. She knew who he was—and who he was asking about. “I’m sorry,” she said, her soft words still landing like a punch in the gut. She hesitated, as if unsure how much to share. “He was still in a coma when we launched. There were no more dropships available. The oxygen supply was essentially gone, and the ship—well, the ship was… it was breaking apart. There were five or six hours left, at most.”

A silent scream of grief and guilt surged up in Wells, but he held it in. If he let himself feel the full weight of his loss at once, he would surely break into pieces. His whole body began to shake. The image of his father slowly suffocating made Wells gasp for air, as if the Earthborn’s hands were still wrapped around his neck.

Wells staggered and almost lost his balance, then felt someone at his side, steadying him. It was Bellamy.

“Wells,” Bellamy said. “I’m so sorry, man.” His face was full of sympathy and something else… pain?

Wells nodded. In his own grief, he had forgotten that Bellamy had lost his father too—lost him before he ever even met him. In fact, every single Colonist on the planet had lost someone—lots of people. All the family, neighbors, and friends they’d left behind had already perished, destined to sleep forever in a giant, silent ship orbiting Earth. The Colony had turned into a tomb.

“It’s a shame you never got to know him,” Wells said, fighting to keep his voice even. Although he’d tried to prepare for the worst, he’d never been quite able to accept the fact that he’d never see his father step off a dropship, his face a mixture of surprise and delight as he saw the wonders of Earth, and how much his son had accomplished. He’d never join Wells around the campfire, listening to the happy chatter, and tell Wells that he was proud of him.

A curious look came over Bellamy, and he smiled. “You know what, though? I think I kind of did get to know him.”

“What are you talking about?” Wells asked, racking his brain for a memory of when his father would’ve been able to spend real time with Bellamy.

“From what I’ve heard, he was incredibly smart, hard working, and deeply committed to helping others… kind of like someone else I know.”

Wells stared at him for a moment, then sighed. “If you’re talking about me, you’ve got the wrong idea. I’m nothing like my father.”

“That’s not what Clarke told me. She said that you have all your father’s best qualities—his strength, his honor—but that you have your mother’s kindness and humor.” Bellamy paused and looked thoughtful. “I’ve never heard you say anything funny, of course, but I figured I’d take Clarke’s word for it.”

To his surprise, Wells let out a small laugh before Bellamy’s face grew serious again. “Listen, I know you’ve suffered in ways I can’t really understand. No one should have to go through anything like this. But you’re not alone, okay? Not only do you have a hundred people who think you’re a hero, maybe more than that actually, but whatever, we’ll count later. What I mean is that you don’t just have friends, you have a family. I’m proud to have you as a brother.”

Bellamy was right. The pain of losing Sasha and his father and countless friends on the battlefield today would never go away, but Earth was still his home, where he belonged. The sorrow in his heart seemed to lift a little as he and Bellamy hugged and slapped each other on the back.

Earth was where his family lived.