Homecoming (The 100 3)

Although it couldn’t have been much later than eight or nine at night, the camp was ominously quiet, except for the sounds of footsteps on the dusty ground and logs clattering on the pile. Two kids carrying firewood toward the pit wore tense, pained expressions. A boy hauling a water bucket looked near tears. A group of adults sat silently together by the fire, shooting nervous glances at the trees. No one spoke. No one laughed or gave one another a hard time. No one smiled. It was as if all the energy and camaraderie—all the life—had been sucked from the very air.

A breeze swept through the trees, and a putrid smell wafted into Wells’s nostrils. He suppressed his gag reflex, and he saw Clarke and Bellamy doing the same. Wells looked around and took a few steps toward the tree line. Sure enough, a rancid pile of animal skins, bones, and organs lay on the ground, covered in flies and slowly rotting. It was disgusting—and unsafe. Not only would the odor attract predatory animals, but the bacteria growing in that pile would be enough to sicken everyone in camp.

“What the hell…” Bellamy said hoarsely. At first, Wells assumed he was looking at the animals as well, but when he turned his head, he saw that Bellamy’s eyes were fixed on something else in the distance. A group of the original hundred were hard at work on a new cabin; he could hear their low grunts as they struggled to place an enormous log at the top of the growing wall. A few adults stood to the side, holding torches to illuminate the site, suggesting that they were planning to work long into the night.

That wasn’t remarkable in itself. With so many people crammed into the camp, it made sense to build new structures as quickly as possible. But then the moon slid out from behind a cloud, and Wells finally saw what had caught Bellamy’s attention.

As the moonlight shined down on the half-completed cabin, it glinted on their friends’ wrists, reflecting off something metallic. “No,” Wells breathed, blinking rapidly, unable to believe his eyes.

Each of them had a thick metal band clasped tightly around one wrist.

“This is madness,” Clarke said, a note of confusion in her voice, as if her scientist brain didn’t trust the image being transmitted through her eyes.

When they’d been taken from their cells in the detention center, each member of the hundred had been fitted with a tracking device. Ostensibly, they were meant to transmit vital signs back to the Colony, to let the Council know whether Earth was indeed survivable, or if their test subjects were slowly succumbing to radiation poisoning. However, within their first few days on Earth, most of them had either removed the bracelets or purposely damaged them beyond repair.

“Do you think Rhodes brought them down to Earth with him?” Wells asked.

“He must have,” Clarke said. “But why? It’s not like he has the technology to actually track any of them.”

Bellamy snorted. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Who knows what he brought on that dropship with him?”

“So… they’re prisoners again?” Clarke said, her voice disbelieving.

“So much for our ‘contribution’ and ‘sacrifice’,” Bellamy said, his voice thick with bitterness.

A few moments later, Wells, Bellamy, and Clarke were all yanked roughly into a line, standing shoulder to shoulder, with a guard behind each of them. Wells clenched his teeth as Vice Chancellor Rhodes approached, flanked by two armed guards of his own.

“Welcome back. I hope you three enjoyed your little holiday.”

“I see you’ve been busy making my friends play dress up,” Bellamy said with a sneer. “That’s quite the collection of bracelets you brought with you.”

Rhodes made a show of looking behind him. The kids who’d been busy building the cabin had stopped what they were doing and were staring at the prisoners in wide-eyed horror. Molly lowered her hammer and took a few steps forward, staring at Wells. Even from a distance, he could tell it was taking all her self-control not to run to him. He shook his head slightly, warning her against it.

“Ah, yes,” Rhodes said. “I do have a few extras, but it seems like a waste to give them to people who’ll soon have nowhere to wear them.”

“Really?” Bellamy managed one of his signature smirks. “Because I heard my trial is going to be the social event of the season.”

“Trial?” Rhodes repeated. “I’m afraid you must be mistaken. There’s not going to be a trial… for any of you. I’ve already found all three of you guilty. Your executions are scheduled for dawn.” He made a show of looking up at the sky. “Though, that does seem like a rather long time to wait. If any of you are in a rush, I’d be happy to expedite the proceedings.”

Wells’s heart froze in his chest, like an animal that’d just caught sight of the hunter’s drawn bow. What was Rhodes talking about? They hadn’t done anything meriting execution.

But before he could say anything, Bellamy made a sound that was half-shout, half-moan. “What the hell are you talking about? They didn’t do anything. I’m the one you wanted. I’m the one you need to kill.”

“They aided and abetted a fugitive. The punishment for that is perfectly clear in the Gaia Doctrine.”

“Fuck the Gaia Doctrine,” Bellamy spat. “We’re on Earth, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I see no reason to abandon the guidelines that have allowed humanity to flourish for centuries just because we’re on the ground.”