“Do you want to join us for a minute?” Wells asked, softening. “I thought we’d say a few words for Asher. You knew him well, so maybe you’d like to—”
“It seems like you have everything under control,” Graham cut him off, avoiding Asher’s body as he met Wells’s eyes. “Carry on, Chancellor.”
By the time the sun had fully set, Wells and Eric were placing the final shovelfuls of dirt on the new grave while Priya wrapped flowers around the wooden marker. The rest of the group had drifted away, either to avoid watching the actual burial or to stake out a spot in one of the new cabins. Each could fit about twenty comfortably, thirty if people were too tired—or too cold—to complain about errant legs sprawled across their mound of charred blankets, or the odd elbow to the face.
Wells was disappointed, though not surprised, to discover that Lila had once again claimed one of the cabins for Graham and his friends, leaving the younger kids shivering in the cold as they looked warily around the shadow-filled clearing. Even with volunteer guards keeping watch, no one left outside was in for a restful night.
“Hey,” Wells said as Graham strode past carrying one of his partially completed spears. “Since you and Dmitri are taking the second guard shift, why don’t you two sleep outside? It’ll be easier for me to find you when my shift’s over.”
Before Graham could respond, Lila sauntered up and hooked her arm through his. “You promised you’d stay with me tonight, remember? I’m too afraid to sleep on my own,” she said, affecting a breathy, high-pitched voice that was a far cry from her usually snapping tone.
“Sorry,” Graham said to Wells, shrugging. Wells could hear the smug grin in his voice. “I hate going back on my word.” Graham tossed his spear to Wells, who caught it in one hand. “I’ll take a shift tomorrow night, if we’re not all dead by then.”
Lila gave an exaggerated shudder. “Graham,” she chastised. “You shouldn’t talk like that!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Graham said, wrapping his arm around her. “Or else I’ll make sure your last night on Earth is the best of your life.” Lila giggled, and Wells fought the urge to roll his eyes.
“Maybe you should both sleep outside,” Eric said as he emerged from the shadows. “That way, the rest of us might have a chance of getting some rest.”
Graham scoffed. “Don’t pretend like I didn’t see Felix sneaking away from your bedroll this morning, Eric. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a hypocrite.”
A hint of a rare smile flickered across Eric’s face. “Yes, but you didn’t hear us.”
“Come on,” Lila said, dragging Graham forward. “Let’s go before Tamsin gives our bed away.”
“Do you want me to take this shift with you?” Eric offered, looking at Wells.
Wells shook his head. “It’s okay. Priya’s already out checking the perimeter.”
“Do you think they’ll be back?” Eric asked, lowering his voice.
Wells glanced over his shoulder, searching for any eavesdroppers in the darkness, then nodded. “It was more than a warning. It was a show of force. Whoever they are, they want us to know that they aren’t happy we’re here.”
“No. Clearly they’re not,” Eric said, turning to look across the clearing where Asher was buried. With a sigh, he said good night to Wells and headed toward the clump of makeshift cots, which Felix and some of the others had clustered around the empty fire pit out of habit.
Wells hoisted the spear over his shoulder and turned around to find Priya. He’d only taken a few steps when his shoulder bumped into something, and a yelp rang out in the darkness.
“Are you okay?” Wells asked, stretching out a steadying hand.
“I’m fine,” a girl said shakily. It was Molly.
“Where are you sleeping tonight? I’ll help you find your bed.”
“Outside. There was no more room in the cabins.” Her voice was small.
Wells was overcome with an urge to grab Graham and Lila and toss them in the stream. “Are you warm enough?” he asked. “I can get you a blanket.” He’d steal it off Graham’s body if need be.
“I’m okay. It’s pretty warm tonight, isn’t it?”
Wells surveyed her quizzically. The temperature had dropped considerably since the sun set. He reached out and placed the back of his hand against Molly’s forehead. Her skin was warm to the touch. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”
“Maybe a little dizzy,” she admitted. Wells pressed his lips together. They’d lost a lot of their supplies in the fire, which meant that rations had decreased significantly. “Here,” he said, reaching into his pocket for the protein packet he hadn’t had time to finish. “Eat this.”
She shook her head. “It’s okay. I’m not hungry,” she said weakly.
After making her promise to let him know if she wasn’t feeling better tomorrow, Wells set off to find Priya. They’d saved most of the medicine, but what good would it be without the one person who knew how to use it? He wondered how far Clarke and Bellamy had traveled by now, and whether they’d found any sign of Octavia. A bolt of fear cut through his exhaustion as he thought about the dangers facing Clarke in the forest. She and Bellamy had left before the attack. They had no idea that there were people out there, Earthborns who communicated through deadly arrows.
He sighed as he tilted his head back toward the sky, sending out a silent prayer for the girl he’d risked countless lives to protect. The girl whose eyes had blazed with hatred when she’d told him she never wanted to see him again.
CHAPTER 2
Clarke
They’d been walking for two days, pausing only for an hour or two at a time to rest. The backs of Clarke’s legs burned, but Bellamy showed no signs of stopping. Clarke didn’t care—in fact, she welcomed the pain. The more she thought about her hamstrings, the less she thought about the ache in her chest, and the friend she hadn’t been able to save.
She took a deep breath. Even if she’d been blindfolded, she’d be able to tell that the sun had set. The air was heavy with the scent of the white blossoms that only unfurled at night, making the trees look like they’d dressed for dinner. Clarke wished she knew what sort of evolutionary advantage the strange flowers provided. Maybe they attracted a type of nocturnal insect? Their distinct perfume bordered on overwhelming in the spots where the trees grew close together, but Clarke preferred them to the orderly rows of apple trees she and Bellamy had seen earlier. Her neck prickled as she recalled the evenly spaced trunks, like straight-backed guards standing in formation.