Amery is not supposed to be on the dropship.
She isn't one of the hundred delinquents being sent down to a radiation-soaked planet. She's just a Zero-G mechanic making some last-minute adjustments to a project nobody will tell her anything about.
I...
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✧】vii. too late, mecha【✧
[ murphy's law ]
BEFORE AMERY KNOWS what's happening, the camp is in an uproar.
Charlotte has disappeared into a tent, herded by Bellamy, Clarke, and Finn. As Clarke hovers near the entrance of the tent, anxiously running a hand through her hair, Amery catches a glimpse of the blonde's wrist. There's no telltale flash of metal, no wristband representing the girl's strong ties to the Ark.
Amery blinks, and Clarke ducks inside the tent.
Maybe it was the wrong wrist. But she doesn't think so.
"Bring out the girl, Bellamy!" Murphy screams, the sound guttural as he paces back and forth a short distance from the blue and white canvas. Amery huddles near Cash and Zoe on the edge of the crowd that has amassed behind the boy, thrumming with nervous and uncertain energy.
It all happened so fast, Amery thinks. And she'd been so quick to believe that it was Murphy, that he'd murdered Wells in cold blood, because everyone else said so. I'm no better than the rest of them.
Amery, of all people, should know not to believe every accusation.
As if reading her mind, Zoe nudges Amery with her elbow and lifts the corner of her mouth in a sympathetic smile, as if to say it's okay. Amery inches closer in response, unconsciously scanning the rest of the crowd for any sign of Keaton or Harper, but having no luck.
After Charlotte had screamed her confession to a gaping crowd, Monty had herded Jasper back to the dropship to calm down. Amery sees no sign of either of the boys outside— probably for the better, she thinks.
"Bring the girl out now!" Murphy bellows, growing increasingly impatient. Raised voices are muffled through the tent's makeshift walls, but the low and angry tones of Bellamy's arguments are unmistakable. Amery wonders what's going on in there.
Is having Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin in a tent with an apparent murderer really the best idea?
"You want to build a society, Princess?" Murphy asks sarcastically, throwing his hands out in a come and get it kind of a gesture. As if Clarke can see him through the barrier of the tent. Amery's jaw tightens. Beside her, Cash bounces nervously on the balls of his feet, his fingers tapping anxiously against the sleeves of his jacket. "Let's build a society! Bring her out!"
The mop of curly brown hair with a frighteningly calm expression that emerges from the tent is definitely not Charlotte.
"Well, well, well," Murphy breathes as he approaches Bellamy, who holds a quiet, exasperated kind of fury in his eyes. "Look who decided to join us." The inquiring eyes of the entire camp are on Murphy's back as Amery holds her breath.
