Chapter 5
''Atom,'' I say, but I never planned on finishing that sentence. Just a short prayer in the form of a name. A begging word to an unknown God.
''What the hell was that?'' Bellamy asks. Charlotte is still hugging her knees, miserable if not terrified.
''The way it burned his skin, it has to be some sort of acid,'' I say, ''Which wouldn't be so out of place and incredible if the day hadn't been as clear as ever. Not a wisp of cloud.''
''It doesn't make any sense,'' Bellamy starts pacing around, directing his anger at who knows what.
''We have to get to know Earth, Bellamy,'' I reply, ''Of course it doesn't make any sense.''
''How long will it last?'' Charlotte speaks for the first time, her voice groggy. We're both almost startled. She sounds so tiny that it makes my heart ache for a second.
''I don't know, sweetie,'' I touch her shoulder, unsure of how to comfort her, ''But we're perfectly safe here until it's gone.''
''You should get some sleep,'' Bellamy tells her, already making her a pillow from his jacket, ''We might stay the whole night.''
Charlotte is out cold fast. She's just a kid anyway, tired, hungry, scared. Sleep is comfort.
Bellamy and I just sit there in silence, leaning against the cold walls of the cave. Time drags on. I try thinking about the fog, try figuring it out, but it's impossible. There is no prior experience I can build upon, no knowledge I can base it on. Two things I can figure out: one - it's acidic and probably deadly; two - it hardly looks natural, which is the most confusing thing about it. Did Earth become just one giant weapon itself after the damned bombs? And the horns. Was it a war cry? Or a warning?
''The horns,'' Bellamy speaks after who knows how long, as though reading my mind, ''They announce it.''
''Or they warn against it.''
''This could be Grounders. This could be their weapon. To annihilate us.''
''Yeah, I don't think people using spears and climbing trees have enough technology to create an acid fog, Bellamy,'' I point out, ''Most likely it burns them the way it burns us. It's probably a way to warn everyone.''
He seems to be thinking it through. ''That's a lot of maybes.''
''I know. But the next time I hear that, I'm running before I see yellow.''
He nods in half-agreement. ''We'll check periodically to see if it's safe. You should sleep. I'm on first watch.''
''Be careful,'' I tell him, ''Don't even stick a finger out. We don't know all the kinds of damage it can cause.''
He nods again, this time in some sort of appreciation for the tip, before he walks toward the entrance. I try to make myself as comfortable as I can, but there's only so much you can do in a cold rocky cave. Knowing I'd need the strength soon, I really try to fall asleep, especially after the poor, twenty-minute long, periodical naps I've barely managed to take in the past almost two days because of Jasper. But I can't sleep. Not deep sleep anyway. I slip in and out of shallow naps only to see Bellamy in different parts of the cave every time I open my eyes. He's restless. Charlotte, on the other hand, is still in deep.
I must have slept another short round because the next time I open my eyes, Bellamy is sitting across from me, back against the wall, knees drawn, arms resting on them.
''Can't sleep?'' he finally asks.
I shake my head, barely having the strength to speak right about now. The past two days are taking their toll on me. ''And I'm exhausted too.''
''What, you don't trust me?'' his eyes fall on my wristband. Yet I've completely forgotten about it.
''No, I trust you,'' I reply - it makes him lift his eyebrows in amused surprise, ''... here and now. There's bigger stuff to think about.''
He slowly nods in understanding, taking my point.
''Is it still out there?'' I ask.
''Yeah. Not as dense, but it seems like it's evaporating way too slowly here between the dense forests and mountainsides.''
''We'll wait it out,'' I say, ''It should be gone by the morning.''
''You think the others made it?'' he asks. He asks me. First of all, the fact that he cares at all half blows my mind. Second of all, the great Bellamy Blake is seeking reassurance from someone else?
''I don't know,'' I reply honestly, ''But they did figure it out on time, I saw them run.''
He's shaking after a while. The later in the night it gets, the colder it gets, but I'm not sure if he's trembling because he's cold or afraid or just downright angry. He seems to be a bit angry. His jaw set, his eyes restless, his mind probably running rampant. He's pissed at Earth, and even more pissed at the Ark, and all of it together is pretty heavy. Incredibly, I can relate.
''You tired?'' I ask.
''Nah,'' he shakes his head.
''What, you don't trust me?'' I smile, throwing back the question.
''Why wouldn't I? I don't have anything you want. Or do I?'' the corners of his lips quirk up. I can hardly believe I'm sitting here bantering with Bellamy Blake like we're old buddies or something, yet it's inexplicably comforting. If I start thinking about what's outside, mentally - I'm done for.
''Maybe I'd just kill you,'' I tease, ''Get rid of the pain in the ass. Liberate the camp.''
''Nah, you don't want me dead,'' he offers, ''You just want me to shut up. ''Shut up, Blake!'' Right?''
I chuckle quietly - I can't help it; it escapes me. Even that echoes through the cold cave.
''Who knew. She can laugh.''
''Who knew, he can take a break from being an asshole,'' I squint at him.
He smiles and nods, as though saying ''fair enough''.
''No, but seriously,'' I continue, ''Why are you so bent on making sure the Ark thinks we're dead?''
His smile slowly disappears. He doesn't want to talk about it, but this is bigger than just him, and if I can get it out of him then maybe we'll know what we're dealing with, and how to stop him from this ridiculous obsession of his. I don't think he wants all those people left up there to die. Something's up.
''I've already told you,'' he only says.
''You just told us a bunch of things those kids have been dying to hear, and you know it. Look, Bellamy, I get you completely. For some of the things that have been done to me, I'd blow up the Ark in a second myself. But not everyone up there deserves to die. You don't have anyone else up there, that's great, but my parents are still there, anxious to know I'm still alive, every minute that passes. They're good people.''
He looks up, and he looks almost sorry, guilty for a moment. It's as though the look in his eyes says I know and I'm sorry but I'm doing this anyway.
''Look, forget my parents,'' I add, waving it off, ''It's bigger than them. There's farmers up there, botanists, medics, engineers, trained militia. You were right about us being strong - we're strong and stubborn. But there's so much we have no idea about.''
''I know,'' he replies, ''But we'll learn.''
''If we don't die out before it.''
''We won't,'' he says with determination.
''I'm not letting this go, Bellamy - why do you want them to not get down so bad?'' I insist, ''The Earth is huge. You wouldn't have to live with those people if you hate them so much.''
He's now trembling much more visibly. I take off my jacket, sit down next to him, and cover us both. He seems a bit surprised by the act, but only for a moment. ''You're freezing,'' I say, as though to explain. Charlotte is still sleeping on his jacket, almost peacefully.
He never answers my question. Silence ensues again, before he decides to break it.
''What did you do?'' he asks, ''There are stories.'' Meaning there are so many versions, no one knows the actual truth.
I decide to tell him. I hate telling the story, but I could use it to crack his walls. This might be my best shot at figuring out what's going on and maybe even stopping him. Besides, it's not like I have anything to lose.
''My mom got sick. It wasn't anything, like, immediately deadly, but if you don't treat it... Well,'' I offer vaguely, not wanting to say the actual words, ''It's a super rare disease, and she needed the super rare medicine we could never in a million years afford. She worked two jobs too. Got extra training to become a part-time teacher. So she was teaching kids up there on top of being a nurse. Dad's in maintenance. Even I tried to hold a part-time job in the Factory Station. All of that combined... we couldn't make her better.''
''So you stole,'' he guesses, though kind of surprised since none of the stories ever had me locked up for stealing.
''Yeah. And I got caught,'' I confirm, ''Luckily, it was on my second round, so I'd already managed to get enough of it to mom to last her a while.''
We're warmer now, sharing body heat beneath the jacket. The skin of his arm that's touching mine is so pleasantly warm, it's all almost able to lull me into the sleep I so desperately need. Yet I feel so tired and so unable to close my eyes at the same time, that my brain almost hurts. So I'm glad we're talking.
''The guard that caught me gave me a deal,'' I continue, swallowing, heart-thumping, ''He wouldn't turn me in if I had sex with him.''
Bellamy frowns. I don't dare look at him for longer than a second, not at this part.
''And you know what? God, for a moment, I was considering it,'' I shake my head, ''My type of offence was sure to get me floated, no two ways about it. It was either that or death, and when you put it that way it's not that hard of a choice. But then I thought, he'll have leverage over me forever. He'll be able to just track me down and demand the same from me over and over again under the threat of turning me in. And he could do it, despite me giving him what he wanted. The moment he got bored, he could still turn me in.''
''Bastard,'' Bellamy spits. There is so much spite in the insult that I'm almost surprised. But apparently, we share a common enemy, and somehow that just strengthens his hatred. ''So... you tried to kill him?'' he asks, because that's the common story.
''Remove the threat? No, actually,'' I explain, ''I simply, politely, declined.''
He scowls. Because that makes no sense.
''Then he grabbed me,'' I explain further, ''Tried to force himself on me. For some reason, I still had a pen on me. It had to be adrenaline that gave me enough strength to stick it in his neck.''
''Damn,'' he only says.
''Attempted murder,'' I nod.
''But that's not fair,'' he says, ''You're the victim.''
''I know, but if it hadn't been for attempted murder it would have been for stealing invaluable resources, so it kind of didn't matter,'' I say, ''We'd both committed a crime, for sure. But I was the only one that would be punished. Even for his crime, as I'd soon learn.''
''Fucking hell,'' he shakes his head, brows furrowed.
''Yeah,'' I agree, ''My parents having to deal with the whole thing was the worst though. It was killing them.''
''To think I'd almost become one of them,'' he says.
''What, the Guards?''
''Yeah.''
''Well, maybe it would have been for the better,'' I say, ''More decent people in the uniform. Less danger for the citizens, you know. There's all kinds of scum holding the power.''
''I'm gonna take that as a compliment, sharpie,'' he grins.
''You should, I don't just hand them out for the taking,'' I joke.
''I don't think we're really gonna be pardoned once they get down here,'' he finally admits, ''And I did something worse than all of us combined.''
Bingo. I don't push for more for fear that he'll clam down again, and besides - the details don't matter at the moment. I know why he's doing it all. Now it makes sense.
Charlotte screams. We jump on our feet immediately, my heart in my throat, only to see the kid kicking and screaming still in her sleep. Bellamy rushes to her, shakes her to wake her up. ''No!'' she cries.
''Charlotte, wake up!'' Bellamy calls frantically. The kid opens her eyes, and then starts crying again once she realizes she must have woken us.
''I'm sorry,'' she sniffs.
''We weren't sleeping,'' I assure her, shaking my head. She calms down a bit.
''Does it happen often?'' Bellamy asks her. She just sighs desperately in response.
''What are you scared of?'' he asks her again, ''You know what? It doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is what you do about it.''
''But… I'm asleep,'' she replies.
''Fears are fears,'' Bellamy tells her, ''Slay your demons when you're awake, they won't be there to get you when you sleep.''
''Yeah, but… How?'' Charlotte asks.
''You can't afford to be weak. Down here, weakness is death, fear is death. Let me see that knife I gave you,'' Bellamy asks. Charlotte's tiny hands fumble for it. She gives it to him almost timidly.
''Now, when you feel afraid, you hold tight to that knife and you say: Screw you. I'm not afraid,'' Bellamy clasps her tiny hands around the hilt. I watch this scene with a kind of fascination. I've never seen this side of Bellamy before, though I guess I shouldn't be surprised knowing that the sole reason he's here is his sister.
Charlotte grips the knife. ''Screw you. I'm not afraid,'' she says.
Bellamy gives her a come-on-you-can-do-better-than-that look.
''Screw you,'' she says more determinedly, ''I'm not afraid.''
The poor thing. I grin, but the whole scene is somehow so sad, so awful. A child shouldn't have to be dealing with any of this. Bellamy smiles at her and pats her gently. ''Slay your demons, kid,'' he tells her, ''Then you'll be able to sleep.'' She nods, like a promise that she'll try.
''Try sleeping now,'' I suggest, ''There's still time before dawn.''
She nods again, puts her knife next to her, and lays down her head on Bellamy's jacket. Bellamy turns around to look at me, but I proceed to check on the situation outside. The sky is already purple-ish. I can see the remains of the fog in the air, but I'm sure it will all dissipate by the time light hits us.
''We really should try and sleep a bit now,'' he proposes, and I couldn't agree more.
''My demons are out there, Bellamy. I won't sleep until we're back at camp.''