The guard spoke without meeting her eyes. In a twisted way, she’d been looking forward to one final walk to the hospital where she’d spent so much time during her medical apprenticeship-one last chance to experience something familiar, if only the smell of disinfectant and the hum of the ventilation system-before she lost the ability to feel forever.

Still, it was hard to believe they’d actually do it in her cell. But lately, people were being executed within hours of their retrial for crimes that, a few years ago, would have been pardoned. According to Colony law, adults were executed immediately upon conviction, and minors were Confined until they turned eighteen and then given one final chance to make their case. If a doctor was coming, that meant they were forgoing her retrial. “They’re doing it here?” Clarke asked hoarsely, the words scraping against her throat. It’d been so long since anyone but Thalia-her former cell mate and her only friend in the Ar]world-had shown her compassion. “Are they too tight?” he asked, his brusque tone frayed by a note of sympathy that made Clarke’s chest ache. She hadn’t seen another person since they’d brought her to the new cell, let alone touched one. Clarke shuddered as his skin brushed against hers. “Hold out your hands,” he said, pulling a pair of metal restraints from the pocket of his blue uniform. A few months of military rations weren’t enough to banish the specter of malnutrition that haunted the Colony’s poor outer ships, Walden and Arcadia.Ĭlarke took a deep breath and rose to her feet. “Prisoner number 319, please stand.” He was younger than she’d expected, and his uniform hung loosely from his lanky frame, betraying his status as a recent recruit. The guard cleared his throat as he shifted his weight from side to side. Her memories were more oppressive than any cell walls. Even if by some miracle she was pardoned at her retrial, there’d be no real reprieve. She’d been Confined for treason, but the truth was far worse than anyone could’ve imagined. It wasn’t death she craved, but if that was the only way to silence the voices, then she was prepared to die. They screamed from the deepest recesses of her mind. They filled the silence between her heartbeats. They called to her from the corners of her dark cell. She’d been transferred to a single after attacking a guard, but for Clarke, there was no such thing as solitary.

But as she rose up onto her elbow, peeling her shirt from the sweat-soaked cot, all she felt was relief. Her eyes locked on the guard’s boots, and she braced for the rush of fear, the flood of desperate panic.

The door slid open, and Clarke knew it was time to die.

Kass morgan the 100 rebellion