Rebellion (The 100 #4)(15)



The group around the bonfire was starting to break up. A few people were distributing some meager rations for dinner, while Paul organized a crew to sort through piles of charred blankets, looking for anything salvageable. Like last night, people would have to sleep outside.

“Okay,” Bellamy said. “I’m going to find Luke and get the supplies ready.”

Clarke looked around the crowd. “Who else is going with us?”

“Luke, of course. And Felix. I don’t think he’s even sat down since Eric was taken. We’ll see if he’s able to calm down and focus. A couple of Earthborns. And Paul volunteered.”

Bellamy grimaced slightly, and waited for Clarke to do the same, but to her surprise, she nodded. “Great.” She glanced over to where Paul was sorting blankets. “He seems like he’ll be useful. Steady.”

Something about the word rankled Bellamy. “Steady?” he repeated.

Clarke shrugged and tried to play it off like it was nothing, but as she walked away, he caught a glimpse of something in her eye. Worry. Fear. But not just about the people who’d been taken.

She was still worried about him. Still didn’t know if he’d recovered enough to be trusted. And the worst part was that he wasn’t sure she was wrong.





CHAPTER 8


Glass


At first, when Glass and the seven other girls had woken up, they’d shouted until they’d lost their voices. Their screams got them nothing; their captors stayed silent, their masklike faces betraying no emotion. Their wagon just kept onward, all night and into the early morning, stopping only occasionally for breaks. All Glass knew was that they were following a bumpy trail through the middle of a dense forest.

She didn’t know the other prisoners very well. Octavia was with her, and a pretty Earthborn girl named Lina. The other five were almost strangers. But they were a unit, bound together by their despair.

And thankfully, she knew that Luke was alive. The last thing she remembered was the look of helpless anguish on his face. Wherever these people were taking her, he’d come after her.

Glass fought through her exhaustion and refused to succumb to sleep. She wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to gather crucial information about her captors. There was no knowing what detail would end up meaning the difference between life and death.

But her observations just made her more confused. The ground was “good.” The raiders kissed their fingertips and touched the dirt every time they set foot on it after leaving the wagon. Hard work was good, judging by their constant droning conversation about it. They called themselves “Protectors.” She wasn’t sure where killing people fit in the grand order of good or bad, except that Earth was the best thing of all, the deity they seemed to worship, and that Earth… it… She… was the decider of who lived and who did not.

Hours passed aimlessly, the wagon rocking and the guards staring in silence. Lina sobbed uncontrollably until she eventually seemed to run out of tears. Finally, the young guard opposite Glass leaned forward, his eyes cast up, peering out of the high window.

“We’re in sight,” he said, then turned to the girls with a solemn frown. “Not long now, if Earth wills it.”

“If Earth wills it,” the others repeated.

Glass and Octavia exchanged worried looks.

The wagon made a sharp left and all the girls toppled a little, the stale smell of sweat and warm breath wafting even stronger with the movement. The guards all turned to peer out the narrow front window, past the driver’s high seat. Spurred by a combination of curiosity and apprehension, Glass craned her head to see what they were all looking at.

They were approaching an ivy-covered wall that extended as high and wide as she could see. It just stretched and stretched and stretched.

The young guard saw her watching and smiled tightly at her. “We’ve arrived at our great home.”

“Oh,” Glass said, unsure how to respond.

He seemed encouraged by that. “It was here before the Shattering, when man was wicked and untamed… the greatest fortress in the land. The most powerful men sat there, hoarding their power, but then Earth took their power and She gave it to us.” The chest of his white uniform swelled with pride. “Earth’s magic resides within us. Soren said so.”

“Soren?” Glass asked.

The guard nodded. “Soren is Earth’s mouthpiece.”

Soren’s their leader, then, Glass thought. Another piece of information to add to the pile.

“Our great home is in the shape of a perfect pentagon,” another guard said.

“We call it the Stone,” the younger one cut back in. “The Stone is our new home, and if Earth wills it, it will be the foundation for our great work.”

The wagon grew dark as they approached the shadow of the great gray wall. Then, with a clomping lurch, they stopped. Glass crawled forward as the back doors opened, curious for a better look, but the second her foot hit the ground, the closest guard shoved a blindfold over her face.

Glass didn’t struggle. She was fully in enemy territory and the only way out was to survive long enough for the rescue party to arrive. She kept silent, and in reward, the hand on her elbow kept a gentle grip as it led her forward. To that building, she supposed. To whatever was waiting for them. To whatever she’d force herself to endure as long as necessary.

Kass Morgan's Books