Conflate | Bellamy Blake ¹ ✓

※ | chapter two

❝life is either a great adventure or nothing.❞

-helen keller, political activist

♛

WHEN WE MAKE IT back to the dropship landing, I start helping Clarke decide where we need to go. She uses a metal ruler from her pocket and a piece of charcoal to map out land sites we know are there by our view from the drop-off. Her strokes are the careful ones that only an artist could have. I wonder if her cell was covered in pictures the same way mine was filled with words.

There's a prickling sensation at my back that signals that someone is coming up behind us. I look up to see Wells Jaha, the Chancellor's son and also Clarke's lifelong friend. He's taller than me, with a built but lean frame. His dark skin is already a bit slick with sweat and his hair is fashioned in the same closely-cropped way it's always been. I've never been close with him due to my criminal record, but he's always been kind to me.

"We got problems," he reports with a sigh. "The communication system is dead. I went to the roof; a dozen panels are missing. Heat fried the wires."

Clarke's face falls in disappointment. "Well, all that matters right now is getting to Mount Weather. See? Look." She turns the map around and points to a red circle on the map. "This is us." She uses the ruler to trace over the straight line that connects to another circle on a mountain. "This is where we need to get to if we want to survive."

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Wells questions, clearly impressed. Clarke's eyelids flutter shut and she doesn't answer. He nods in understanding, his voice losing its sense of wonder. "Your father."

Clarke's mood seems to have darkened, but I'm not sure why. Aside from me, Wells is Clarke's best friend. So why is there visible tension between them?

"It'll be treacherous, no doubt," I speak up upon noticing that neither of them wants to talk to the other. "We have no idea of what exactly lies between here and where we need to go. There could be animals we've only heard about in books, and many things we don't know how to deal with. We need to be prepared."

Wells looks at me, recognition filling his dark brown eyes. "Fallon?"

I smile weakly at him, unsure of what to say. Hi, the reason I avoided you all my life was because I'm a criminal?  Somehow, that doesn't seem like the right way to hit off after two years of separation.

I decide to reply with a simple, "In the flesh. Hey, Wells."

He opens his mouth, about to speak again, but a different voice punctures the silence. "Ah, cool, a map."

I turn around to see a familiar, nerdy-looking boy with goggles pushed over his messy raven hair. His large brown eyes are filled with excitement as they flicker between Clarke and I. I recognize him from my Earth Skills class while in prison, but I never caught his name. "They got a bar in this town? I'll buy you two ladies a beer."

I crack a smile, but Wells uses an arm to shove the boy back with a glower. "You mind?"

"Woah—" Goggles starts to protest, but another male's voice cuts him off.

"Hey, hey, hey! Hands off of him." There's a group of about nine boys behind a short, mousy-haired male with a very long nose. My mind clicks with recognition– John Murphy, a boy from that God-forsaken class. "He's with us."

Judging by Goggles' perplexed face, I doubt he's 'with them', but doesn't say anything. His dark eyes are widened so greatly that they appear to overpower his face. He's very pale and tall, with a thin, wiry build.

"Relax. We're just trying to figure out where we are," Wells explains calmly as he puts his hands up in defense. He knows that he's not very well-liked among most of the convicts due to his dad being the Chancellor who locked all of these kids up.