Clarke approached the apple trees, Bellamy close behind her. “That’s strange,” she said slowly.
“The trees are spaced so evenly. It almost looks like an orchard.” She walked over to the closest one.
“But could it really have survived all these years?”
Although the tree loomed over her, the lowest branch was fairly close to the ground. Standing on
her toes, it was easy for Clarke to stretch up and pluck an apple. She twisted around and tossed it to
Bellamy before reaching for another one.
Clarke held the apple up to her face. They grew fruit in the solar fields on the ship, but those
apples looked nothing like these. The skin wasn’t just red; it had threads of pink and white running
through it, and it gave off a scent unlike anything she had smelled before. She took a bite and gasped
as juice began running down her chin. How could something taste sweet and tart at the same time? For
just a moment, Clarke allowed herself to forget everything that had happened on Earth and let the
sensation overtake her.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Bellamy asked, and Clarke looked over. While she’d been
busy eating, he’d begun using fallen branches to measure the distance between the trees.
“To be honest, I wasn’t thinking anything beyond how good this tastes,” Clarke admitted, feeling
the hint of a smile curl her lips. But Bellamy didn’t laugh or tease her. He just kept staring at the
perfectly spaced trees.
“These didn’t survive the Cataclysm, and they didn’t just grow like this,” he said slowly, his voice
filled with wonder and dread. Before he’d even finished, Clarke knew what he was going to say. Her
chest tightened with fear. “Someone planted them.”