Finally, Rhodes began. “My fellow citizens, this is a sad day, a day we will mourn for generations, but it is also a great day. I am so honored to stand here with you, at long last, on the soil of Earth. The contributions of those of you who came down on the first dropship will not soon be forgotten. You have bravely forged ahead where none of our people have set foot in hundreds of years.”
Bellamy studied Clarke’s face. She betrayed no reaction, but he knew they were thinking exactly the same thing. There were plenty of humans who had set foot here, not all of them Earthborns. Clarke’s parents, for example, and the others who had come to Earth with them. So far, though, none of the hundred knew Clarke’s parents were alive besides Bellamy and Wells.
“You have proven that human life can, indeed, exist again on Earth. That is magnificent. But our lives do not depend solely on safe water or clean air.” He paused for dramatic effect and looked around the crowd, locking eyes with one person after another. “Our lives depend on each other,” he continued. Several people in the crowd nodded emphatically, and Bellamy wanted to gag.
“And in order to protect each other and ourselves, we must follow certain rules,” Rhodes said.
Bellamy took in Wells’s and Clarke’s faces, and he could tell from their expressions that they were all on the same page. Rhodes was full of shit. He had said nothing about the hundred being forgiven for their crimes—which they had all been promised in exchange for their “service” to humanity when they came down here on the first dropship. And based on the number of happy reunions Bellamy had witnessed that day—one or two among the non-Phoenicians—obviously none of their families had been given priority on the next wave of ships. The number of lies this man was spewing in one short speech was repulsive. But even worse, it seemed like a lot of people were eating it up.
“I trust that each and every one of you”—Rhodes was wrapping up, his words flowery but his tone ice cold—“will recognize the greater good and do exactly what is expected of you, for your own personal well-being but also for the continuation of our very race. Thank you.”
A chill shot down Bellamy’s spine. This wasn’t a warm and fuzzy motivational speech. This was a warning.
But Rhodes was never going to forgive Bellamy’s act of treason on the launch deck. Bellamy saw that clearly now. Instead, the Vice Chancellor and his followers would make an example of him, which meant execution. Probably publicly.
A decision appeared whole in Bellamy’s mind, already considered and made. He had to get out of here. He would come back for Octavia when it was safe. Clarke and Wells would look after her for now. Bellamy took a large step backward, farther into the woods, his eyes locked on the back of Rhodes’s head. On his second step, he backed right into a tree, smacking it hard. He fell forward with a grunt and struggled to keep his balance. He managed to stay upright but stepped, heavily, on a pile of dry sticks near his feet. They cracked loudly, the snap-snap-snapping echoing right out into the clearing.
Hundreds of heads popped up to follow the sound. The guards raised their guns to their shoulders and zigzagged the barrels at the tree line. With surprisingly quick reflexes, Rhodes turned and scanned the landscape for the source of the sound. Bellamy was stuck. He couldn’t move, or he’d definitely be spotted. His only option was to stay perfectly still and hope that Rhodes and his guards all had terrible eyesight.