Kass Morgan - Day 21

But Glass’s relief was tempered with a sharp, aching sadness at the thought that Luke probably wouldn’t be on Earth with her. She couldn’t be sure he wasn’t on one of the earlier dropships, but she didn’t think so. Luke would no sooner have knocked someone out of his way for a spot on the dropship than he would let a friend die for his own crime.

As the final countdown began, Sonja clutched Glass’s hand. All around them, people were crying, muttering prayers, whispering good-byes and apologies to those they were leaving behind. Rhodes was helping Sonja with her harness, and Glass began to fumble with her own.

But before her trembling hands could lock the buckle into place, a guard appeared in the door. His eyes were wide and darting madly as he held his gun in the air.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rhodes shouted. “Get off! You’ll kill us all!”

The guard fired a shot into the air, and everyone fell silent. “Now, listen up,” the guard said, looking around. “One of you is getting off this dropship, or everyone dies.” His terror-filled eyes settled on Glass, who still hadn’t managed to lock her buckle into place. He took a few steps forward and aimed the gun at her head. “You,” he spat. “ Get . Off .” His arm was shaking so violently, the barrel of the gun almost scraped against Glass’s cheek.

A disembodied voice filled the pod. “One minute until departure.”

Rhodes fumbled with his harness. “Soldier!” he snapped, in his most commanding military voice. “Stand to attention!”

The guard ignored him, grabbing Glass’s arm. “Get up or I’ll shoot you. I swear to god I will.”

“Fifty-eight… fifty-seven…”

Glass froze. “No, please.” She shook her head.

“Fifty-three… fifty-two…”

The guard pressed the muzzle of the gun to her temple. “Get up or I’ll shoot everyone in here.”

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, but somehow, Glass was rising to her feet. “Bye, Mom,” she whispered, turning toward the door.

“Forty-nine… forty-eight…”

“ No! ” her mother screamed. Suddenly, she was at Glass’s side. “Take my seat instead.”

“No,” Glass sobbed, trying to push her mother back into her seat. “Stop, Mom!”

The man waved the gun back and forth between the two of them. “One of you better get the hell out of here, or I’ll shoot you both!”

“I will, please, hold your fire,” Glass pleaded, shoving her mom down and turning toward the door.

“Stop!” A familiar form came barreling forward, jumping onto the ship at the last minute.

Luke .

“Thirty-five… thirty-four…”

“Drop your weapon,” Luke shouted. “Just let them go.”

“Get back,” the guard spat, trying to shove Luke away. In a flash, Luke had jumped onto the man from behind, locking his arm around the man’s neck and wrestling him to the floor.

A deafening, bone-shuddering crack filled the dropship as the gun went off.

Everyone screamed. Everyone except for one person.

“Thirty… twenty-nine…”

Her mother was slumped on the floor, a dark red stain blooming on the front of her dress.

For the first few moments, she couldn’t remember where she was. Clarke had woken up in so many different places over the past few weeks—her cell during her final days in Confinement, the overcrowded infirmary tent where Thalia had taken her last breaths, curled next to Bellamy under a star-filled sky. She blinked and listened intently, waiting for something to come into focus. The shadowy outlines of the trees. The sound of Bellamy’s even breath.

But still there was nothing. Only darkness and silence.

She started to sit up, but winced as the small movement sent shooting pain through her head. Where was she?

Then it came back to her. She and Bellamy had wound their way deep inside Mount Weather. Those guards had come after them. And then…

“Bellamy,” she said hoarsely, ignoring the pain as she jerked her head from side to side. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, her surroundings came into focus. She was in a small, empty room. A cell. “ Bellamy! ” He had aimed an arrow at the guards. Could they have determined he was too much of a threat? Her stomach roiled as she remembered the guns they’d been carrying.

Something groaned a few meters away. Clarke rose onto her hands and knees and crawled toward the sound. A long, lanky figure was stretched out on the stone floor. “Bellamy,” she said again, her voice cracking as relief swept through her. She slumped back down on the ground and cradled his head in her lap.

He groaned, and then his eyes fluttered open.

“Are you okay?” she asked, stroking his hair away from his face. “Do you remember what happened?”

He stared at her, seemingly uncomprehending, then jumped to his feet so quickly, he almost knocked Clarke over in the process. “Where are they?” he shouted, looking around wildly.

“What do you mean?” she asked, wondering if he was still waking up from a nightmare.

“Those Earthborn bastards who knocked us out.” He swatted at his neck. “They shot us with tranquilizer darts or something.”

Clarke brought her hand up to her own neck. The foolishness she felt for not understanding what had happened turned to dread as she realized what it meant. The supposedly peaceful, civilized Earthborns—Sasha’s people—had knocked Clarke and Bellamy unconscious and dragged them into a dark cell.

“Are you okay?” In the dim light, she saw Bellamy’s face soften as his fury gave way to concern. He pulled her toward him and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “We’re going to get out of here.”

Clarke said nothing. This was all her fault. She’d been the one to insist they come down here, the one who had begged Bellamy to come with her. She couldn’t believe she’d been such an idiot.

Sasha had lied about Asher. Lied about Octavia. Worst of all, she may even have known what was going to happen to Priya. There was no other “faction” of Earthborns. She must’ve invented them to make the hundred trust her, to lure Clarke and the rest of them into a trap. Sasha had been so vague when she spoke about the first Colonists, about the “incident” that had forced the Earthborns to expel them. Clarke should’ve suspected something was wrong.

She closed her eyes and thought about the graves she’d found. Was that where she and Bellamy would end up after the Earthborns killed them? Or would their bodies remain in this godforsaken bunker forever?

For a moment, all she could hear was Bellamy’s breath and her own frantic heartbeat. But then another sound came, the unmistakable tread of footsteps. “They’re coming,” Clarke whispered.

She heard the clank of metal, and then bright light streamed inside, blinding her. Clarke brought her hand up to her eyes and saw the shadowy outline of a person in the doorway.

The figure stepped forward, and a face came into focus. It was Sasha.

Clarke’s fear drained away, leaving only anger and disgust. “You liar ,” she exclaimed, lunging forward. “I trusted you! What the hell do you want from us?”

“What? Clarke, no.” Sasha actually had the audacity to look hurt as she backed away from Clarke. “Wells let me go, and I came as quickly as I could. I wanted to make sure I was here when you arrived.”

“Right, so you could arrange for us to be sedated and locked up,” Bellamy spat.

Sasha shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry about that. But you probably shouldn’t have tried to shoot them with your bow.” She stepped forward and tried to put her hand on Clarke’s arm, then winced as Clarke pulled away. “The guards were only doing their job. As soon as I heard what had happened, I ran down to get you. Everything’s fine now.”