The 99

Chapter Fifteen: Clarke

The stars were waiting for her. They seemed to always be waiting for her. Clarke stared out of the air lock window, her breath clouding the glass. She'd put on the helmet when Bellamy had gone into the chamber and now she was beginning to feel suffocated and smothered inside it.

Twenty four. Twenty four seconds Bellamy had been out there, drifting through space. She'd watched as it had dragged him out, picking him up as if he were nothing more than a speck of dust.

But he was, in a way. They all were.

"Bellamy?" Clarke asked after she'd reached thirty. There was silence on the other end and fear clamped a hand around her throat, making it hard to breathe. He was dead. And if he was dead, she was as good as dead herself. Soon this room would be flooded with guards; they were already on their way.

Clarke forced herself to remain calm. "Bellamy, are you there?"

"I'm still alive, if that's what you're asking," his voice chimed back, echoing inside the helmet. She let out an audible sigh of relief. "This has to fall on your list as one of the stupidest things you've ever done," she said.

"Right beneath shooting the Chancellor, yeah. Now it's your turn, Princess."

And just like that, the humor died.

Clarke felt the suit grow more restrictive, as if the very helmet itself was becoming smaller, crushing her temples. She suddenly felt dizzy as she opened the airlock chamber and forced herself inside. Her breathing grew shallow and more rapid, leaving her lips in sharp gasps. She stopped in front of the last opening.

Just beyond it lay an ocean of stars, some clustered, others scattered in isolation. It was poignant and haunting, with an appetite so voracious that not even infinity could sate it.

"When you come out, grab the rung on the right side of the ship, okay?" Bellamy instructed and even though he couldn't see it, Clarke nodded. "Okay." Her reply came out breathy.

"You'll be fine," he added after a second and though he seemed uncomfortable extending reassurance, it sounded sincere. As sincere as it could, given the circumstances.

"Right. It's just an illegal spacewalk without any prior experience or proper training," she muttered. "No big deal."

"I did the hardest part. This should be nothing for you."

Clarke couldn't even think of a smart reply. Not when images of her father bombarded her, the memories of his death replaying in her mind. She would be seeing the last thing he had seen. She would be floating over the same stars he had, as the galaxy claimed him as its own.

She would die, in the same way he did.

"I hate to rush you, Princess," Bellamy snapped. "But we're on a tight schedule."

Clarke froze. Her muscles locked, and she could have sworn that even her heart stuttered to a halt. She couldn't explain it and tried to beat it down like she usually would in any other situation, but this wasn't like viewing a surgery or holding down a kid for an injection.

This was something else entirely.

"I..." I can't do this, Clarke thought. But she had no choice. It was too late. Now, she could either float in a suit, or float without one.

"Just press the button on the inside of the airlock," Bellamy said. "That's all you're doing. Just press the button."

But there was nothing nonthreatening about these buttons. Nothing kind. They took parents from their children, loved ones from their families, fathers from their daughters. They only had one purpose, and that was to send living things out to where they didn't belong.