Home > The 100 (The Hundred #1)(22)

The 100 (The Hundred #1)(22)
Author: Kass Morgan

But before he had time to respond, Graham sauntered over. As he looked from Wells to Bellamy, a wry smile flickered across his face.

“I agree with the right honorable mini-Chancellor,” Graham said. “We should lock up the weapons.”

Bellamy took a step back. “What? And put you in charge of those as well?” He ran his finger along the bow. “No way. I’m ready to hunt.”

Graham snorted. “And what exactly did you hunt back on Walden except for girls with low standards and even lower self-esteem?”

Bellamy stiffened but didn’t say anything. It was a waste of time to rise to Graham’s bait, but he could feel his fingers clenching.

“Or maybe you don’t even have to chase after them,” Graham continued. “I suppose that’s the benefit to having a sister.”

With a sickening crunch, Bellamy’s fist sank into Graham’s jaw. Graham staggered back a few steps, too stunned to raise his arms before Bellamy landed another punch. Then he righted himself and struck Bellamy with a powerful, well-aimed shot to the chin. Bellamy lunged forward with a growl, using his whole body weight to send Graham flying backward. He landed on the grass with a heavy thud, but just when Bellamy was about to deliver a swift kick, Graham rolled to the side and knocked Bellamy’s legs out from under him.

Bellamy thrashed around, trying to sit up in time to gain leverage over his opponent, but it was too late. Graham had him pinned to the ground and was holding something just above his face, something that glinted in the sun. A knife.

“That’s enough,” Wells shouted. He grabbed Graham by the collar and flung him off Bellamy, who rolled over onto his side, wheezing.

“What the hell?” Graham bellowed, scrambling to his feet.

Bellamy winced as he rose onto his knees and then slowly stood up and walked over to pick up the bow. He shot a quick glance at Graham, who was too busy glaring at Wells to notice.

“Just because the Chancellor used to tuck you into bed doesn’t mean you’re automatically in charge,” Graham spat. “I don’t care what Daddy told you before we left.”

“I have no interest in being in charge. I just want to make sure we don’t die.”

Graham exchanged a glance with Asher. “If that’s your concern, then I suggest you mind your own business.” He reached down and scooped up the knife. “We wouldn’t want there to be any accidents.”

“That’s not how we’re going to do things here,” Wells said, holding his ground.

“Yeah?” Graham raised his eyebrows. “And what makes you think you have any say over that?”

“Because I’m not an idiot. But if you’re anxious to become the first thug to try to kill someone on Earth in centuries, be my guest.”

Bellamy exhaled as he crossed the clearing toward the area where he’d seen the animal tracks. He didn’t need to get pulled into a pissing contest, not when there was food to find. He c tord the aswung the bow over his shoulder and stepped into the woods.

As he’d learned at a young age, if you wanted to get something done, you had to do it yourself.

Bellamy had been eight years old during the first visit.

His mother hadn’t been home, but she’d told him exactly what to do. The guards rarely inspected their unit. Many of them had grown up nearby, and while the recruits liked showing off their uniforms and hassling their former rivals, investigating their neighbors’ flats felt like crossing the line. But it was obvious the officer in charge of this regiment wasn’t a local. It wasn’t just his snooty accent. It was the way he’d looked around their tiny flat with a mixture of surprise and disgust, like he couldn’t imagine human beings living there.

He’d come in without knocking while Bellamy had been trying to clean the breakfast dishes. They only had running water a few hours a day, generally while his mother was working in the solar fields. Bellamy was so startled, he dropped the cup he was cleaning and watched in horror as it bounced on the floor and rolled toward the closet.

The officer’s eyes darted back and forth as he read something off his cornea slip. “Bellamy Blake?” he said in his weird Phoenix accent that made it sound like his mouth was full of nutrition paste. Bellamy nodded slowly. “Is your mother home?”

“No,” he said, working hard to keep his voice steady, just like he’d practiced.

Another guard stepped through the door. After a nod from the officer, he began asking questions in a dull, flat tone that suggested he’d given the same speech a dozen times already that day.

“Do you have more than three meals’ worth of food in your residence?” he droned. Bellamy shook his head. “Do you have an energy source other than…”

Bellamy’s heart was beating so loudly, it seemed to drown out the guard’s voice. Although his mother had drilled him countless times, practicing any number of scenarios, he never imagined the way the officer’s eyes would move around their flat. When his eyes landed on the dropped cup then moved to the closet, Bellamy thought his chest was going to explode.

“Are you going to answer his question?”

Bellamy looked up and saw both men staring at him. The officer was scowling impatiently, and the other guard just looked bored.

Bellamy started to apologize, but his “Sorry” came out like a wheeze.

“Do you have any permanent residents other than the two people registered for this unit?”

Bellamy took a deep breath. “No,” he said, forcing the word out. He finally remembered to affect the annoyed expression his mother had him practice in the mirror.

The officer raised one eyebrow. “So sorry to have wasted your time,” he said with mock cordiality. With a final glance around the flat, he strode out, followed by the guard, who sla cuarry to hmmed the door shut behind him.

Bellamy sank to his knees, too terrified to answer the question rattling through his mind: What would have happened if they’d looked in the closet?

CHAPTER 11

Glass

As she trailed behind Cora and Huxley on their way to the Exchange, Glass found herself wishing that her mother had waited a few more days before spreading the news of her pardon. At first, she’d been overjoyed to see her friends. When they’d walked through her door that morning, all three girls had burst into sobs. But now, watching Cora and Huxley exchange knowing smiles as they passed a boy Glass didn’t recognize, she felt more alone than she ever had in her cell.

   
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