| | |
| | |
Bellamy didn’t care that the Earthborn was a girl. She was a spy. She was the enemy. She was one of the people who had killed Asher and taken his sister. #3 в контекст | | |
Fear flashed in her eyes, and her black hair flew across her face as she thrashed in the dirt, trying to wrench herself free. But Bellamy, kneeling next to Wells, only tightened his hold. They couldn’t let her escape, not before she told them where Octavia was. #4 в контекст | | |
He helped Wells pull the girl to her feet and yanked her sharply forward. “Where the hell is she?” he shouted. His face was so close to hers, his breath sent wisps of her hair flying. “Where’d you take my sister?” #5 в контекст | | |
| | |
Bellamy twisted her arm behind her back, just like he used to do to the boys in the care center he caught teasing Octavia. “You’d better tell me right now, or you’ll wish you never crawled out of whatever cave you came from!” #7 в контекст | | |
“Bellamy,” Wells said sharply. “Calm down. We don’t know anything yet. She might have nothing to do with—” #8 в контекст | | |
“Like hell she doesn’t,” Bellamy said, cutting him off. He reached over and yanked on the girl’s hair, bringing her face up to his. “You tell me right now, or this is going to get really unpleasant, really fast.” #9 в контекст | | |
“Knock it off,” Wells shouted. “For all we know, she doesn’t speak English. Before we do anything, we need to—” #10 в контекст | | |
Wells was cut off once again, this time by a thunderstorm of shouts and footsteps as the rest of the group, drawn by the noise, came to investigate. “You caught one,” Graham said, shoving his way to the front. His voice was tinged with something close to admiration. #11 в контекст | | |
“So she’s from Earth?” asked a Walden girl, awestruck. #12 в контекст | | |
| | |
“She’s probably a mutant. You might catch radiation poisoning just by touching her,” a tall Arcadian boy said, craning his neck for a better look. #14 в контекст | | |
Bellamy didn’t care if the girl was radioactive, or if she had goddamn wings. All he cared about was finding out where she and her friends had taken his sister. #15 в контекст | | |
“What are we going to do with her?” a girl asked as she shifted her spear from one hand to the other. #16 в контекст | | |
“We kill her,” Graham said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And then we put her head on a spike to let the others know how we deal with people who threaten us.” #17 в контекст | | |
“Not before she and I have a little conversation,” Bellamy growled. The girl’s eyes narrowed as Bellamy stepped forward, and she raised her knee in an attempt to jab him, but he danced aside. #18 в контекст | | |
“Bellamy, back off,” Wells ordered, struggling to hold her still. #19 в контекст | | |
Graham scoffed. “Want to have a little fun with her first? I can’t say I’ve ever understood your taste in girls, mini-Chancellor, but I guess we all have needs.” #20 в контекст | | |
Wells ignored Graham, and turned to ask a Walden boy for rope. “We’ll tie her up and keep her in the infirmary until we figure out what to do with her.” #21 в контекст | | |
Bellamy glared at Wells as rage bubbled up from his stomach into his chest. That wasn’t good enough. The longer they stood here, the farther away her people could be dragging Octavia. “She needs to tell us where to find my sister,” he snapped, daring Wells to challenge him. As if it were his decision to make. Bellamy hadn’t really cared when the others started deferring to Wells. Better him than Graham. But that didn’t mean Wells got to decide what to do about this girl—the only link to Bellamy’s sister. #22 в контекст | | |
The Walden boy came running over with the rope. Wells bound the girl’s hands behind her back, then deftly tied her feet together so she could only take short, shuffling steps. His smooth, practiced moves reminded Bellamy that Wells wasn’t just a spoiled Phoenician. Before his arrest, he’d been training as a guard. As an officer, in fact. Bellamy’s hands tightened into fists at his side. #23 в контекст | | |
“Clear a path,” Wells shouted, escorting his prisoner toward the cabin. Her long black hair had fallen away from her face, and Bellamy was able to really look at her for the first time. She was young, maybe Octavia’s age, with almond-shaped green eyes. Her furry black top wasn’t even the strangest thing about her. It was something about her skin, Bellamy realized. The Colonists’ skin came in a wide array of shades, but the hundred had all burned their first week on Earth, before Clarke started urging people to limit their sun exposure. But the captive’s skin had a sort of glow, and a smattering of freckles across her high cheekbones. Unlike the rest of them, she had grown up in the sunlight. #24 в контекст | | |
His anger turned to nausea as he thought about how her people might be treating Octavia. Did they have her tied up? Locked in a cave somewhere? She hated small places. Was she terrified? Was she crying for him? At that moment, he would’ve taken the ax and chopped off his hand if he thought it would help his sister. #25 в контекст | | |
Bellamy followed Wells and the Earthborn into the infirmary cabin, which was now empty except for the still-sleeping Clarke. He watched as Wells directed the girl to sit on the other cot, checked that her hands were tied securely behind her, then took a step back, surveying her with an expression he must have picked up during officer training. #26 в контекст | | |
| | |
She glowered and tried to rise to her feet, but her bound hands threw her off-balance. It was easy for Wells to push her back on the cot. “Do you understand what I’m saying?” he continued. #28 в контекст | | |
A troubling thought took shape amid Bellamy’s haze of fury. What if she didn’t speak English? They might’ve landed in North America, but that didn’t mean the Earthborns spoke the same language as they had three hundred years ago. #29 в контекст | | |
Wells crouched down so he was eye level with the girl. “We didn’t know anyone was still living here. If we’ve done something to offend you, we’re sorry. But—” #30 в контекст | | |
“Sorry?” Bellamy spat. “They took my sister and killed Asher. We’re not apologizing for anything.” #31 в контекст | | |
Wells shot him a warning look, then turned back to the Earthborn. “We need to know where you took our friend. And you’re going to stay here until you give us some useful information.” #32 в контекст | | |
She turned to Wells, but instead of responding, she simply pressed her lips together and glared. #33 в контекст | | |
Wells rose to his feet, rubbed his head in frustration, then started to turn away. #34 в контекст | | |
“That’s it? That’s your idea of questioning her?” Bellamy said, torn between fury and bewilderment. “Do you know what your father and his Council friends do when they need information from someone?” #35 в контекст | | |
“That’s not how we’re doing things here,” Wells said with infuriating self-righteousness, as if half the people in camp hadn’t been interrogated by his father’s guards at some point. He walked over to Clarke’s cot, adjusted her blanket, then headed toward the door. #36 в контекст | | |
“You’re just going to leave her there?” Bellamy asked incredulously, his eyes darting between the prisoner and Wells. #37 в контекст | | |
“We’re going to have people guarding the cabin round the clock. Don’t worry, she’s not going to escape.” #38 в контекст | | |
Bellamy took a step forward. “Yeah, she’s sure as hell not going to escape because I’m staying in here with her. With both of them.” He tipped his head toward the sleeping Clarke. “You think it’s a good idea to leave her in here with a killer?” #39 в контекст | | |
Wells leveled his gaze at Bellamy. “She’s tied up. She’s not going to hurt anyone.” #40 в контекст | | |
The condescension in his voice was enough to make Bellamy’s blood boil. “We don’t know anything about these people!” he shot back. “What kind of mutations they’ve undergone. Remember the two-headed deer?” #41 в контекст | | |
Wells shook his head. “She’s a human being, Bellamy, not some kind of monster.” #42 в контекст | | |
Bellamy snorted and turned to the girl. She was staring at them, wide-eyed, her gaze flitting back and forth between Wells and Bellamy. “Well, I’d still feel more comfortable if I kept an eye on her personally,” he said, trying to sound relaxed. He knew Wells wouldn’t let him stay in here if he thought he was going to hurt her. #43 в контекст | | |
“Fine.” Wells shot one final look at Clarke before turning back to Bellamy. “But leave her alone for now. I’ll be back in a little bit.” #44 в контекст | | |
When Wells left, Bellamy walked to the other side of the cabin and lowered himself to the ground next to Clarke. The Earthborn girl had shifted on her cot so she was facing the other wall, but Bellamy could tell from the tension in her shoulders that she was aware of his every move. #45 в контекст | | |
Good, he thought. Let her worry about what he might do next. The more terrified she became, the better the chances she’d tell them where to find Octavia. Bellamy was going to rescue his sister, no matter what it took. He’d spent the past fifteen years risking his life to keep her safe, and he had no intention of stopping now. #46 в контекст | | |
Bellamy loved Remembrance Day. Not because he particularly enjoyed listening to the care center tutors drone on about how lucky they all were that their ancestors had made it off Earth. If Bellamy’s great-great-grandfather had known that his descendants would have the privilege of cleaning bathrooms in a floating can filled with recirculated air, he probably would have been like, “You know what, guys, I’m good here.” No, Bellamy looked forward to Remembrance Day because the storage decks were nearly empty, which made it an ideal time for scavenging. #47 в контекст | | |
He slipped behind an outdated generator that had been shoved carelessly against a wall. Spots like this could conceal valuable stuff for decades. Last Remembrance Day, he’d found an actual pocketknife inside a grate on C deck. Bellamy grinned as his fingers closed around something soft and pulled out a piece of pink fabric. A scarf? He shook it out, ignoring the dust motes. It was a small blanket, with a trim of darker pink. Bellamy folded it carefully and slid it inside his jacket. #48 в контекст | | |
As he made his way back to the care center, Bellamy toyed with the idea of giving his find to Octavia. She’d recently been moved from the small bedroom where the five- and six-year-olds slept to the larger dorm for older girls. While she liked being thought of as a big kid, the dorm was still frightening to her, and a pretty blanket would go a long way toward making the new space feel like home. #49 в контекст | | |
But as he readjusted the blanket under his arm and felt the soft wool against his skin, he knew it was too valuable to keep. Life in the care center was difficult. Although food was meant to be distributed evenly, the orphans had developed an elaborate system based on bribes and intimidation. Without him, Octavia would never get enough to eat. Bellamy was a good scavenger, and he traded everything he found for ration points, or to bribe the kitchen staff for extra food. Over the past few years, he’d done a pretty good job of making sure Octavia had enough to eat. She never got that feral, hungry glint in her eye so common in the care center. #50 в контекст | | |