Chapter 8
The calm returns to camp - after a while everyone has gone back to their tasks like everything is back to okay. But nothing is okay. Finn, Bellamy, Clarke and Charlotte are out there, with Murphy and his entire clique after them. Monty has fried all of our wristbands with his final attempt to contact the Ark. Now they think we're all dead.
Nothing is okay.
When Bellamy returns, with the boys that had followed Murphy, night has already fallen. Neither Murphy nor Charlotte are among them. The explanation they give us isn't much different than what I'd assumed would happen. I'm glad Finn, Bellamy, and Clarke have come out okay, at least; though I can barely look at Bellamy. Clarke has apparently pushed him to enforcing some ground rules around the camp, though, so that's good, at least.
He's announcing them and all, and I can't really listen to that crap, so I haul ass to the upper level of the Drop-Ship, just wanting to be alone. Sitting in Monty's company while he works is the closest thing to being alone around here. I never even noticed Jasper in the other corner, sitting in the exact same way I do, except there is a dumb smile plastered across his face, whereas a frown is creasing mine.
''What are you smiling about?'' I ask. He looks just about stupefied.
''Octavia kissed him,'' Monty replies, throwing one of the wristbands at the wall.
''At least someone's had a good evening,'' I shrug.
*
I've never felt so alone, like on this night. Wells is dead, Murphy is gone, Charlotte is dead, Finn is out of camp again, Bellamy I can't even look at, and I can't help being angry at Octavia. None of these people were ever my friends by your usual definition of friendship, but they were something, and I feel so alone and I sleep through the entire night on the upper level of the Drop-Ship, while Monty works still, getting nowhere with the wristbands. When I wake up, he's snoring softly, head down against the makeshift desk.
The morning is fresh, the day bright, the weather perfect. Like nothing is wrong with the world. People are just waking up, getting to their tasks. I see Octavia on the other side of camp - she looks like she's making her way toward me. I turn around on the balls of my feet, hoping it's not too obvious.
It's a theme that persist throughout this entire uneventful day - I try to avoid absolutely everyone.
The next day is a different story.
*
The whole camp gathers hurriedly to watch the comet that burns across the sky. It's so fiery and bright that we seem to collectively hold our breaths before it. I stare in awe... until I realize it's falling a bit too fast and a bit too low for it to be a comet.
''Woah.'' ''What is that?'' ''Did it come from the Ark?'' ''A Drop-Ship?''
It sure as hell looks like something of the sort.
Bellamy's tent is right on my left, in arm's reach. I stomp ahead, flap it open, because he needs to see this. I find him in bed with not one but two girls. I don't know why that makes me furious. Maybe because he's still enjoying himself after the entire trauma we've all gone through.
He sits up without waking the two girls, frowning in question.
''You gotta see this,'' I only say and close the tent before he can even ask anything further.
He comes out on time to see whatever it is that's nearing land, still shirtless.
''Please tell me they brought down some shampoo,'' one of Bellamy's girls comments, now in tow.
''Ah, yes, probably a whole crate of make-up and cosmetics just for you,'' I bite sarcastically.
''What's your problem?!''
''Calm down,'' Bellamy says in his authoritative voice. ''Jones, my tent in five,'' he orders the boy and leaves. The girl just gives me a dirty look before she walks away. Suddenly I want to beat them all up.
''Hey!'' Octavia calls, catching up with me this time, ''Hey, Tasha! You okay?''
''Yeah, I'm fine,'' I shrug off, ''Why do you ask?''
''I can tell when people are mad at me,'' she says, ''I don't like it, either. Especially when they're right.''
''It's nothing, Octavia, don't worry about it,'' I try to walk past, but she stops me.
''No, look, I'm sorry. I was wrong, okay? I made a mess,'' she admits, ''I mean, Murphy was horrible but I wouldn't have wanted him to die innocent because of me.''
''He wouldn't have died because of you,'' I reply.
''Well, it was me that riled everyone up,'' she offers.
''It was bound to happen the moment Clarke stepped out of that tent,'' I explain, ''Or rather the moment I gave her that knife. Either way, it's on all of us.''
''So, we're cool?'' she tries a small smile again, ''I could kind of use a friend around here what with all these weirdos and a control freak for a brother.''
''Sure, Octavia. I'm not mad, really. I'm just... stressed the hell out,'' I breathe out as we walk, ''So much happened, like... Okay, we made a mistake, but it's not even about that. It's about what the people in this camp are capable of doing in the blink of an eye. It's scary, Octavia. The people I might have to trust my life with, you know? 'Cause we're gonna depend on each other.''
''Sure, I get what you're saying, but that was Murphy,'' she insists, ''Murphy was an asshole; it wouldn't have been the same with just anyone else.''
''Wouldn't it? Because I'm not so sure,'' I shake my head, ''Murphy was feared and respected just a few hours prior. The whole crowd changed in, like, a moment.''
''That crowd had just needed a reason all along. Trust me,'' Octavia assures me, ''Besides, no one just trusts everyone around here. You pick a couple of people and you keep 'em close.''
''Well, I thought I could trust-, I start, but then decide better, ''Never mind.''
''What?'' asks Octavia, ''No, tell me?''
''I just.. can't stop seeing Bellamy kicking that crate from under Murphy,'' I admit, letting the scene roll over before my eyes again, ''It just plays out over and over again in my head and it's... haunting.''
''Tasha, look... I'm not defending Bellamy, because I know my brother can make life a living hell,'' she says, ''But I really don't think being in his position was easy in that moment.''
''He has power over these kids,'' I argue, ''He could have stopped it all, confined Murphy until some sort of trial and decision's been made! We could have voted on it.''
''We did vote on it,'' she tells me.
And I realize she's right. The people had decided, not Bellamy. If Charlotte hadn't stepped up, there would have been no evidence to save John. Bellamy did what the people demanded. He was one and they were many. In spite of his inspirational power over the group, he couldn't have changed a thing from that night. Inspiring a decision is one thing, completely changing the people's minds is quite another.
I hate that I can't even hate him properly right now when I desperately need someone to hate.
''Come on,'' she pulls me along, ''Let's get ready and check with Bellamy. I'm kind of excited about what we're gonna find there.''
''No one's going anywhere,'' he tells us the moment we enter his tent, ''Not while it's dark. It isn't safe. We'll head out at first light. Pass the word.''
''Everyone for a hundred miles saw this thing come down. What if the Grounders get to it first? Bell, we should go now,'' Octavia insists.
''I said we wait until sunrise.''
Octavia and I stomp outside furiously. She goes on to pass the word. I seem to be frozen with fury - I hate being bossed around like that. First of all, when did this stop being a democracy? And second of all, at least make your tone more pleasant if you're gonna give people orders. God, I am having Bellamy Blake over my fucking head.
''What are you so angry about?'' Miller quips.
''I'm hungry,'' I grab his apple and walk past.
''Hey!'' I hear his voice calling in the back.
*
I figure I'll give Jasper some time out since I have nothing to do at the moment and everyone is getting on my nerves. I bump into Clarke and Finn returning from wherever they've been, on my way to taking over Jasper's watch duty.
''Well, look at you two living your best lives,'' I tease them, ''Inspirational, truly.''
Clarke only smiles and rolls her eyes. ''Someone's gotta do it,'' Finn shrugs with a grin.
''Did you see that, earlier?'' Clarke asks.
''That thing, whatever it was? Yeah. We all saw it,'' I reply, ''Bellamy says we'll go check it out in the morning. Too dangerous in the dark.''
''Oh. Okay.''
I climb up the small watchtower we've made where Jasper is about to fall asleep. He has a mini heart-attack not hearing me climb up.
''God, seriously? Do you even have a shadow?'' he puts his hand on his heart dramatically, and I can't help but laugh.
''Don't worry, Jasper, the Grounders won't get you,'' I tease him, ''They liked you so much, they patched you up and let you go.''
''Not funny.''
''It is a little bit!''
''I don't know what's more rude - you laughing about my plights or you laughing with your mouth full,'' he squints.
''Just kidding, dumbass,'' I nudge him gently, grabbing another bite of the stolen apple, ''Go have some sleep. I'm up and I'm hyped. Taking over.''
''Okaaaay,'' he says as he starts climbing down, ''Why do I feel like I've just sold my soul to the devil?''
I laugh. ''Just go!!''
The woods around us are the complete contrast of what's going on inside our walls. On one side calm; on the other clamor. On one side darkness; on the other blazing fires. On one side plants and butterflies and wild fruits; on the other dead ground and firewood and metal and steel. Watching the woods is therapeutic. Sometimes it can be boring, but sometimes, if you really get lost in it, hours can pass and you won't even notice.
An hour must have passed since I've switched with Jasper. It's getting later in the night, and folks are finishing up with their daily work. There aren't as many people outside.
''Where's Bellamy?'' Clarke wakes me from my daze.
''What? In his tent probably,'' I tell her.
''I already checked,'' she says, ''Just one of his girls in there. She said he left. Left where?''
''Probably to get his lady some shampoo,'' I giggle at my own joke, not even realizing I've hit the point.
''Oh my, God, that's it,'' Clarke panics immediately, ''He's after that pod!''
''What? No, wait, Clarke, I think he's way past his first days on Earth when he just took everything for himself,'' I argue, ''Maybe he's just gone to pee somewhere or something.''
''I don't think he's way past anything,'' she insists, beckoning me, ''Come on.''
''Wait, where are we going?''I ask.
''After him.''
''After him where? Clarke, I'm serious, he wouldn't just- Oh,'' I stop and freeze in my realization.
''What is it?'' Clarke asks me.
''He's not after the supplies,'' I say, ''He's after the radio.''