They stepped behind the cabin, and after checking to make sure no one was listening, Glass told Luke everything she had heard Rhodes say. She hated seeing the pained look on his face as he absorbed the full weight of her words. He looked away from her, casting his gaze far out over the treetops. He was silent for a long moment, and Glass held her breath. Birds chirped, the sound of an ax splicing wood echoed across the camp.
Finally Luke turned back to her, his jaw tight and his eyes burning with resolve. “I won’t do it,” he said firmly.
Glass’s heart fluttered with love and pride at Luke’s clear sense of right and wrong. She admired his integrity and honor—it was one of the first things she had been drawn to. But she would never— could never—let him jeopardize himself to save someone else.
“But, Luke, you understand what that means, right? They’ll punish you.” Glass’s voice trembled with fear. “I know he saved my life, but Rhodes is dangerous. You should have seen the way he talked about executing Bellamy. It was… awful. Who knows what he’s capable of?”
“I know.” Luke’s jaw clenched and unclenched.
They were both quiet for a moment. Glass took his hand and squeezed it. He felt far away, distant, like he did when he was preparing for a spacewalk.
“Luke.” She squeezed his hand again. Slowly he turned to look at her. “It can’t end this way.” After all they had been through, after all they had fought for and survived, it’d be madness to let Rhodes turn either of them into scapegoats just like he was doing to Bellamy.
“It won’t,” Luke said, pulling her into a tight embrace.
She breathed in his familiar scent, which was now layered with earthy smells that she was growing to love as she began to associate them more and more with Luke. His heart beat a steady rhythm against her cheek. Her blood pressure began to fall, her pulse slowed, and the adrenaline in her veins subsided. This was all she needed. He was all she needed.
Glass pulled away suddenly. Luke’s head shot around, his instincts programed to check for danger.
“I know what to do,” Glass said.
Luke looked down at her, his brows knit together. “What?”
“We’ll leave.”
“What do you mean ‘leave’? Where would we go?”
“I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. Wells can help us. He and Sasha can tell us which way to go. We can hide out for a while—as long as it takes for us to be sure that when we get back, all this will have been forgotten.”
“What about the Earthborns? The dangerous ones?” Luke asked, looking at her as if she’d gone completely insane.
“We’ll have to take our chances.”
Luke stared at her for a long moment, and Glass braced for the weary shake of his head, and some vagaries about not abandoning his duties. But to her surprise, a small smile crept across his face. “We’d have to go tonight, then. We don’t want to give Rhodes the chance to find me.”
Glass looked at him, startled. “Seriously? You really want to go off on our own?”
He placed his uninjured hand on her waist. “Do you know what’s kept me going this last year? All the time you were in Confinement, those nights on Walden when I was certain we were dying? It was the thought of being on Earth with you. Even when I was sure it was just a fantasy, I couldn’t stop imagining exploring the planet with you. Just us.” He let go of her waist and ran his fingers through her hair. “It’s incredibly risky, though. You know that.”
She nodded. “I know. But I’d rather be in danger out there with you than risk being here without you.” She smiled up at him and ran her hand softly across his stubbly cheek. He took her hand in his and kissed her fingertips.
“And I’d rather be out there with you than cause anyone else more pain,” he said.
“Then let’s go get ready. We’ll take whatever supplies we can grab without attracting attention and then head out.”
“I have to finish this shift. You get some water and whatever food you can hide in your clothes, and we’ll meet back here after sundown. While everyone’s eating dinner.”
“Okay,” Glass agreed. “I’ll find Wells. And I think we should tell Clarke too. She needs to know what they’re planning for Bellamy. Because if it isn’t you, it’s going to be someone else.”
“Can we trust her?”
“Yes.” Glass was emphatic. “We can trust her.”
“Good.” Luke bent his head to give Glass a quick, soft kiss. “We’ll be just like Adam and Eve,” he said with a smile.
“There’s no way I’m dressing in leaves, no matter how long we’re alone in the woods.”
Luke made a show of looking her up and down, then grinned mischievously, making it clear exactly where his mind was. “Go get ready,” he said, tapping her elbow. With one last lingering look, he turned around and headed back to the infirmary cabin.
For one fleeting, blissful moment, Clarke was happy. As Keith stood up for the first time since the dropships landed and took a few steps, everyone in the infirmary cabin cheered. Clarke stood in front of him, holding out her arms as he hobbled forward. He had one skinny arm wrapped protectively around his ribs, the other waving out to the side for balance. He stepped into Clarke’s arms, and she hugged him gently. The boy was going to be fine.
“Okay, buddy, let’s get you back to bed. That’s enough for one day,” Clarke said.
“Thanks, Dr. Clarke.” Keith’s smile was big enough to light up the room.
“Just ‘Clarke.’” She smiled, easing him back down onto the cot. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the one unoccupied cot in the cabin, and all the temporary happiness flooded out of her, leaving only panic and despair in its wake. Guards had come that afternoon to move Bellamy to a new prison cabin they’d built on the edge of the clearing, a dismal, windowless shack made of sheet metal salvaged from the crash site. He was locked up by himself, with two armed men outside the door at all times. Clarke wasn’t sure exactly what Rhodes had planned, but she knew it was just going to get worse. Either Bellamy would succumb to infection from a lack of proper medical care, or else Rhodes would expedite his demise by…
She shook the thought out of her head. It was too terrible to contemplate. She would figure something out. She had to.
As Keith gingerly settled himself, Clarke turned to Marin, whose leg had shown huge improvement. The wound had begun to heal with no hint of infection. “You’re next, Marin,” Clarke said. “We’ll get you up and walking in no time.”
“I can’t wait.” Marin grinned. “How long have I been on this planet, and I still haven’t seen so much as a tree or a leaf?”
“Well, that’s what you get for being unconscious when we brought you in here,” Clarke teased, her light tone belying the dread building in her stomach. “But I’ll bring you a few samples later, to tide you over.”
“Clarke?” someone called from the doorway, a desperate tinge to the voice.
Clarke spun around to see a pale, anxious-looking Glass shifting her weight from side to side. “Glass, what’s wrong?”
“I… I need to talk to you for a sec.”
“Sure.” Clarke hurried over to her as quickly as her overtaxed legs would allow. Glass’s face was drawn and pale. “Is everything okay?” Clarke’s heart seized a little. Had something happened to Wells?
“I think we should go outside,” Glass said, shooting a nervous look around the cabin.
Clarke nodded and, without another word, followed Glass through the door and into the clearing. The late-afternoon sun seemed to mellow the frenetic scene somewhat, although everywhere she looked, Clarke could see signs of strain—people arguing over rations, guards casting uneasy glances toward the trees, and, in the distance, people bending their heads to avoid meeting the eyes of the two guards standing to attention in front of Bellamy’s prison. The idea of him in there, alone and ill, made Clarke want to break into a sprint and crash through the door, guards be damned.
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