Homecoming

But somehow, the hundred and the newcomers had managed to stockpile an impressive number of supplies. They had repurposed broken seats and shards of metal into water buckets, cots, chairs, and tables. They had used straps and wires to bind canvas and upholstery into tarps and tents and blankets. They had foraged for wide, flat leaves they could dry out and use for multiple purposes—from woven baskets to plates and bowls. They used everything they could find to cook, clean, and protect themselves. It was awe-inspiring, really, that all these people had put their heads together and figured out how to survive. Wells had never been so aware of how easy they’d had it on the ship.

The quiet of the supply shed was a welcome change from the hubbub outside. Wells took his time assessing their inventory, making a mental note that they needed to start gathering more leaves and small pieces of wood for kindling. They were doing okay on berries and plants, and a whole new crew was training to track animals—which was good, considering that it’d be a long time before Bellamy would be able to go hunting.

Wells stood up and stretched his arms over his head. He heard a soft thunk against the side of the building. Maybe it was Felix dragging the rain barrels over, as Wells had asked him to. He stepped outside to see if he could help. Moving around the side of the shed, his eyes landed on Kendall and his body went rigid. The younger girl had seemed sweet at first and had paid so much attention to Wells he’d thought she’d had a harmless crush on him. But over the past week, he’d grown more concerned with her behavior. Nothing about her quite added up, from her strange accent, to the way her story about ending up in Confinement kept changing.

But that wasn’t the most troubling part. Wells’s skin prickled as he thought about Priya, his friend who’d been violently killed and left hanging from a tree. They’d all thought the Earthborns had done it, of course, just like they’d murdered Asher. But even the horrific details of that terrible day didn’t add up. Priya had been strung up with a rope from the hundred’s own camp, and the gruesome letters carved into her feet bore a startling resemblance to the handwriting on her grave maker—a marker Kendall had fashioned herself.

Part of Wells thought he was just being paranoid, that he’d been rattled by the traumatic events. But there was also part of him that knew not to let Kendall out of his sight.

She stood alone, her back to him, leaning over one of the rain barrels. She was reaching down into it.

“Hey, Kendall,” Wells said, trying to keep his tone neutral.

Kendall jumped at the sound of his voice and faced him with a large smile plastered on her face.

“Oh, hi, Wells,” she said smoothly.

“What’s going on? What’s up with the rain barrel?”

“Nothing. Just checking to see how much was in there. Felix just rolled these over. I don’t know how he did it with so much water in them.”

“It’s not hard if you get it at the right angle,” Wells replied. “Why do you need to check the water level?”

Kendall looked up at the sky and held up her hands near her shoulders, palms up, as if checking the air for moisture. “It doesn’t look like we’re going to have any rain today, and I wanted to be sure we had enough.”

Wells studied her face. Something about her was out of synch—it was almost as if her semiclueless voice and her piercing stare belonged to two different people but had accidentally ended up together.

“Did you find something in there?”

Kendall tittered. “In the rain barrel? No. Why?”

“What were you doing with your hand in it, then?”

“Wells, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t have my hand in the barrel.”

“Kendall, I saw you standing there reaching into it.”

She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. For a moment so brief Wells thought he might be imagining it, her expression transformed from innocent and awkward to cool and calculating. Then she opened her eyes wide again, smiled shyly, and shrugged. “Wells, I don’t know what to tell you. I wasn’t reaching into the barrel. I have to get to my hunting shift.” Before Wells could say another word, she turned on her heel and scurried back to the center of camp.

Wells felt uneasy. Something wasn’t right. He looked down into the barrel, but all he saw was crystal clear water, about halfway up the side. With a frustrated slap of his palms against the side of the barrel, Wells decided he needed to tell Rhodes what he’d just seen. Making sure the water was safe to drink was more important than some stupid power struggle.

It wasn’t hard to track down the Vice Chancellor. He just had to spot the clump of guards gathered around, waiting for orders. With an excuse me or two, he made his way to the front of the group and stood behind Rhodes, who was talking to Officer Burnett, his second-in-command.

“Sir?” Wells said in his well-trained officer’s respectful tone.

Rhodes spun around and looked Wells over from head to toe. He seemed surprised to see Wells again. “Yes, Officer Jaha? How can I help you?”

Wells felt the eyes of the guards on him. “I witnessed something I think you should know about, sir.”

“Did you?”

“Yes. I saw a girl named Kendall dropping something into one of the rain barrels. I believe she was putting something into our water supply.”

“And what do you think this Kendall was putting into our water supply?” Rhodes asked coolly.

“I don’t know, sir. But there’s something about her that doesn’t feel quite right. She’s just a little… off.”