Homecoming

The group stopped on the edge of the clearing. A woman stepped forward.

“We found you,” she said, breathing heavily, her voice weak.

She looked vaguely familiar to Wells. He struggled to place her, and then it came to him: She had worked in his father’s administration, in an office down the hall. They must have been on another dropship—one of the few that they figured must have veered off course.

“Please, do you have anything to eat?” she asked. Wells hadn’t noticed at first how gaunt she and the others looked.

“It’s okay,” Wells said to the group. “They’re from the Colony. Someone, please, get them some food and water.”

A couple of kids scurried off.

Wells stepped forward. He felt hundreds of eyes on his back. “Where are you coming from?” he asked.

“Our dropship landed miles from here, way beyond the far side of the lake. We spent some time getting our bearings and recovering from our injuries. Then it took us several days to get to you. We followed the smoke from your campfires.”

“How many of you are there?”

“We lost a few. But we started out as one hundred and fifteen.”

Wells cast his gaze over the large group assembled behind her. Still more people emerged from the woods.

“Were you the last ship to launch from the Colony?”

The woman nodded.

Wells felt a question forming on his lips, but he wasn’t sure he had the courage to ask it. He wasn’t sure he really wanted the answer.

“My father—” he began.

The woman’s expression softened. She knew who he was—and who he was asking about. “I’m sorry,” she said, her soft words still landing like a punch in the gut. She hesitated, as if unsure how much to share. “He was still in a coma when we launched. There were no more dropships available. The oxygen supply was essentially gone, and the ship—well, the ship was… it was breaking apart. There were five or six hours left, at most.”

A silent scream of grief and guilt surged up in Wells, but he held it in. If he let himself feel the full weight of his loss at once, he would surely break into pieces. His whole body began to shake. The image of his father slowly suffocating made Wells gasp for air, as if the Earthborn’s hands were still wrapped around his neck.

Wells staggered and almost lost his balance, then felt someone at his side, steadying him. It was Bellamy.

“Wells,” Bellamy said. “I’m so sorry, man.” His face was full of sympathy and something else… pain?

Wells nodded. In his own grief, he had forgotten that Bellamy had lost his father too—lost him before he ever even met him. In fact, every single Colonist on the planet had lost someone—lots of people. All the family, neighbors, and friends they’d left behind had already perished, destined to sleep forever in a giant, silent ship orbiting Earth. The Colony had turned into a tomb.

“It’s a shame you never got to know him,” Wells said, fighting to keep his voice even. Although he’d tried to prepare for the worst, he’d never been quite able to accept the fact that he’d never see his father step off a dropship, his face a mixture of surprise and delight as he saw the wonders of Earth, and how much his son had accomplished. He’d never join Wells around the campfire, listening to the happy chatter, and tell Wells that he was proud of him.

A curious look came over Bellamy, and he smiled. “You know what, though? I think I kind of did get to know him.”

“What are you talking about?” Wells asked, racking his brain for a memory of when his father would’ve been able to spend real time with Bellamy.

“From what I’ve heard, he was incredibly smart, hard working, and deeply committed to helping others… kind of like someone else I know.”

Wells stared at him for a moment, then sighed. “If you’re talking about me, you’ve got the wrong idea. I’m nothing like my father.”

“That’s not what Clarke told me. She said that you have all your father’s best qualities—his strength, his honor—but that you have your mother’s kindness and humor.” Bellamy paused and looked thoughtful. “I’ve never heard you say anything funny, of course, but I figured I’d take Clarke’s word for it.”

To his surprise, Wells let out a small laugh before Bellamy’s face grew serious again. “Listen, I know you’ve suffered in ways I can’t really understand. No one should have to go through anything like this. But you’re not alone, okay? Not only do you have a hundred people who think you’re a hero, maybe more than that actually, but whatever, we’ll count later. What I mean is that you don’t just have friends, you have a family. I’m proud to have you as a brother.”

Bellamy was right. The pain of losing Sasha and his father and countless friends on the battlefield today would never go away, but Earth was still his home, where he belonged. The sorrow in his heart seemed to lift a little as he and Bellamy hugged and slapped each other on the back.

Earth was where his family lived.

CHAPTER 28: Bellamy