He couldn’t wait to see the look on the new arrivals’ faces when they saw how much the hundred had accomplished. They had certainly made some mistakes along the way, and there had been horrible losses—Asher and Priya, almost Octavia—but there had been triumphs too.

Wells turned his head and saw Sasha staring at him in concern. He grinned, and before she had time to react, he tangled his fingers in her glossy hair and brought his lips to hers. She seemed surprised at first, but soon relaxed into him and kissed him back. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then stood. It was time to tell the others.

He shot a quick glance at Clarke, silently asking for her consent. She pressed her lips together and turned briefly to Bellamy before meeting Wells’s eyes and nodding.

Wells cleared his throat, which caught a few people’s attention, but not many. “Can everyone hear me?” he asked, raising his voice to be heard over the buzz of conversation and the crackle of flames.

A few meters away, Graham exchanged a sneer with one of his Arcadian friends. When they’d first landed on Earth, he’d led the charge against Wells, trying to convince the others that the Chancellor’s son had been sent as a spy. And while most of the hundred had grown loyal to Wells, Graham hadn’t lost all his power—there was still a considerable portion of the camp who feared Graham more than they trusted Wells.

Lila, a pretty Waldenite who fawned over Graham, whispered something to him, then giggled loudly at whatever he whispered back.

“Will you shut up?” Octavia snapped, shooting them a dark look. “Wells is trying to talk.”

Lila glared at Octavia and muttered something under her breath, but Graham looked mildly amused. Maybe it was because Octavia had spent less time in camp than the others, but she was one of the few who wasn’t intimidated by Graham, and she was willing to stand up to him.

“What’s going on, Wells?” Eric asked. The tall, serious-faced Arcadian was holding the hand of his boyfriend, Felix, who’d recently recovered from a mysterious illness. Though naturally undemonstrative, Eric’s relief had temporarily overpowered his reserve. Wells hadn’t seen him let go of Felix’s hand all day.

Wells smiled. Soon, they wouldn’t have to worry about battling strange diseases. There would be fully trained doctors on those dropships. Doctors with more medicine than there had been on Earth in centuries.

“We did it,” Wells said, unable to contain his excitement. “We lasted long enough to prove that Earth is survivable, and the others are on their way.” He pointed up at the sky with a grin.

Dozens of heads snapped up, the flickering flames reflecting on their faces. A chorus of whoops and cries—and a few curses—rang out in the clearing as everyone jumped to their feet. The ships were low in the sky now, descending rapidly, picking up speed as they approached Earth.

“My mom is coming!” a young girl named Molly said, bouncing from side to side. “She promised me she’d be on the first ship.”

Two Walden girls clutched each other and began squealing, while Antonio, a normally cheerful Waldenite who’d grown quiet in recent days, started muttering to himself. “We did it… we did it…”

“Remember what my father told us,” Wells said, shouting over the noise. “About our crimes being forgiven. From this point on, we’re regular citizens again.” He paused, then grinned. “Actually, that’s not entirely true. You’re not regular citizens—you’re heroes.”

There was a smattering of applause, but it was quickly drowned out by a piercing screech that suddenly filled the air. It seemed to emanate from the sky itself and grew to a deafening volume, forcing everyone in the clearing to cover their ears.

“They’re about to land,” Felix shouted.

“Where?” a girl asked in response.

It was impossible to say, but it was clear that the ships were coming in fast and hard, with no detectable control over their approach. Wells watched in helpless shock as the first vessel passed directly overhead, just a few kilometers above them, so low that showers of burning debris singed the tops of the tallest trees.

Wells cursed under his breath. If the trees caught on fire, it wouldn’t matter who was on those dropships—they’d all be dead before morning.

“Great,” Bellamy said, loud enough to be heard over the din. “We risk our lives to prove that Earth is safe, just so they can come down and set it on fire.” His voice had its usual careless, mocking tone, but Wells could tell Bellamy was scared. Unlike the others, he’d forced his way onto the dropship—and gotten the Chancellor shot in the process. There was no way of knowing whether Bellamy would be forgiven for his crimes, or whether the guards had orders to shoot him on sight.

As the dropship moved past the clearing, Wells caught a glimpse of the letters on the side—Trillion Galactic, the company that built the ships generations ago. His stomach twisted as he realized that one was flying on its side, at a full forty-five-degree angle to Earth. What could that mean for everyone inside the cabin? It passed over the clearing, disappearing behind the tops of the tallest trees, continuing its descent out of their line of vision.

Wells held his breath, waiting. After a tortured moment, a flash of light and fire exploded far out beyond the trees. It was at least a few kilometers from their camp, but seemed as bright as a solar flare. A millisecond later came the delayed sound of the crash, a deep thundering that drowned out all other noise. Before anyone could process what they’d just seen, the second ship passed directly over their heads and landed in the same catastrophic fashion, sending up more light and noise. A third ship followed.