her life. But then again, it was probably best that she didn’t form any real attachments. As soon as her ankle healed, she and Bellamy would be off for good.
Bellamy tore open a crumpled nutrition pack, squeezed half the contents into his mouth, then slipped the carefully folded wrapper back into his pocket. After sorting through the remainder of the wreckage, they’d discovered what they’d all feared: The few weeks’ worth of nutrition packets they’d found when they first landed was all they’d been sent with. Either the Council had assumed the hundred would figure out how to live off the land after a month… or they didn’t plan on them surviving that long.
Graham had strong-armed most people into handing over any packs they’d salvaged and had supposedly put an Arcadian named Asher in charge of distributing them, but there was already a fledgling black market; people were trading nutrition packs for blankets and taking on extra water shifts in exchange for reserved spots inside the crowded tents. Wells had spent the day trying to get everyone to agree to a more formal system, and while some people had seemed interested, it hadn’t taken Graham long to shut him down.
Bellamy turned as the laughter at the short end of the clearing gave way to shouts.
“Give that to me!” one of the Waldenites cried, trying to wrench something away from another. As Bellamy hurried over, he realized it was an ax. The first boy was holding the handle with both hands and was trying to swing it out of reach while the second boy attempted to grab on to the blade.
Others began to descend on the boys, but instead of pulling them apart, they darted between the trees, scooping items into their arms. Tools were scattered on the ground—more axes, knives, even spears. Bellamy smiled as his eyes landed on a bow and arrow.
Just this morning, he’d found animal prints—goddamn real tracks, leading into the trees. His discovery had caused a huge commotion. At one point, there’d been at least three dozen people gathered around, all making intelligent, helpful observations like
It’s probably not a bird
and
It looks like it has four legs
. Finally, Bellamy had been the one to point out that they were hooves, not paws, which meant that it was probably an herbivore, and therefore something they could conceivably catch and eat. He’d just been waiting for something to hunt with, and now, in his first stroke of good luck on Earth, he had it. Hopefully he and Octavia would be long gone before the nutrition packets ran out, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
“Hold it, everyone,” a voice rang out over the crowd. Bellamy glanced up as Wells reached the tree line. “We can’t just let random people carry weapons. We need to sort and organize these, and
then
decide who should have them.”
A flurry of snorts and defiant glares rose up from the crowd.
“That guy took the Chancellor hostage,” Wells went on, pointing at Bellamy, who’d already swung the bow and arrows over his shoulder. “Who knows what else he’s capable of. You want someone like
him
walking around carrying a deadly weapon?” Wells raised his chin. “We should at least put it to a vote.”
Bellamy couldn’t help but laugh. Who the hell did this kid think he was, anyway? He reached down, picked a knife up off the ground, and began walking toward Wells.
Wells stood his ground, and cs gd cs gd Bellamy wondered if he was trying not to flinch, or if maybe Wells was less of a pushover than Bellamy had thought. Just when it seemed like he might stab Wells in the chest, Bellamy flipped the weapon so that the handle faced Wells, and pushed it into his hand.
“Breaking news, pretty boy.” Bellamy winked. “We’re all criminals here.”
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
Bellamy tore open a crumpled nutrition pack, squeezed half the contents into his mouth, then slipped the carefully folded wrapper back into his pocket. After sorting through the remainder of the wreckage, they’d discovered what they’d all feared: The few weeks’ worth of nutrition packets they’d found when they first landed was all they’d been sent with. Either the Council had assumed the hundred would figure out how to live off the land after a month… or they didn’t plan on them surviving that long.
Graham had strong-armed most people into handing over any packs they’d salvaged and had supposedly put an Arcadian named Asher in charge of distributing them, but there was already a fledgling black market; people were trading nutrition packs for blankets and taking on extra water shifts in exchange for reserved spots inside the crowded tents. Wells had spent the day trying to get everyone to agree to a more formal system, and while some people had seemed interested, it hadn’t taken Graham long to shut him down.
Bellamy turned as the laughter at the short end of the clearing gave way to shouts.
“Give that to me!” one of the Waldenites cried, trying to wrench something away from another. As Bellamy hurried over, he realized it was an ax. The first boy was holding the handle with both hands and was trying to swing it out of reach while the second boy attempted to grab on to the blade.
Others began to descend on the boys, but instead of pulling them apart, they darted between the trees, scooping items into their arms. Tools were scattered on the ground—more axes, knives, even spears. Bellamy smiled as his eyes landed on a bow and arrow.
Just this morning, he’d found animal prints—goddamn real tracks, leading into the trees. His discovery had caused a huge commotion. At one point, there’d been at least three dozen people gathered around, all making intelligent, helpful observations like
It’s probably not a bird
and
It looks like it has four legs
. Finally, Bellamy had been the one to point out that they were hooves, not paws, which meant that it was probably an herbivore, and therefore something they could conceivably catch and eat. He’d just been waiting for something to hunt with, and now, in his first stroke of good luck on Earth, he had it. Hopefully he and Octavia would be long gone before the nutrition packets ran out, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
“Hold it, everyone,” a voice rang out over the crowd. Bellamy glanced up as Wells reached the tree line. “We can’t just let random people carry weapons. We need to sort and organize these, and
then
decide who should have them.”
A flurry of snorts and defiant glares rose up from the crowd.
“That guy took the Chancellor hostage,” Wells went on, pointing at Bellamy, who’d already swung the bow and arrows over his shoulder. “Who knows what else he’s capable of. You want someone like
him
walking around carrying a deadly weapon?” Wells raised his chin. “We should at least put it to a vote.”
Bellamy couldn’t help but laugh. Who the hell did this kid think he was, anyway? He reached down, picked a knife up off the ground, and began walking toward Wells.
Wells stood his ground, and cs gd cs gd Bellamy wondered if he was trying not to flinch, or if maybe Wells was less of a pushover than Bellamy had thought. Just when it seemed like he might stab Wells in the chest, Bellamy flipped the weapon so that the handle faced Wells, and pushed it into his hand.
“Breaking news, pretty boy.” Bellamy winked. “We’re all criminals here.”
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
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