Jason and Raven moved with haste, puttering through the underbrush like two ghosts fleeing a haunting.
Jason's eyes were locked on the forest floor, the ground was a mess of scorched earth and jumbled chaos. Hundreds of footsteps boots, bare feet, and heavy Grounder sandals all crisscrossed over one another, leading in a dozen different directions. But Jason's mind worked differently. He saw the way the moss was depressed, the angle of the snapped twigs, and the subtle scent of ozone lingering in the air from the canisters he'd found.
"This wasn't a retreat. It was a harvest Raven," he muttered in a low voice."
"How can you even tell?" Raven asked, her voice tight with exhaustion as she limped slightly beside him.
"Because there are no bodies where the tracks end," Jason replied grimly. "They're alive. Somewhere."
They soon reached a secluded pool, fed by a thin, silvery trickle of a waterfall. The water was crystalline, reflecting the pale sky above. Jason stopped, the adrenaline finally cooling enough for him to feel the grime caked onto every inch of his skin.
"Let's wash up first," Jason said, gesturing to the pool. "If we're going to hunt them, we can't do it while we're smelling like a furnace. It'll give us away."
Raven nodded silently, dropping down and moving to the edge of the water to splash her face.
Jason stepped to the water's edge and paused. He looked down at his reflection, and for a heartbeat, he didn't recognize the man looking back. In his old life, back on the Ark and even further back in his memories to the original reality, he had been a pacifist. He was the guy who couldn't even bring himself to trap a rabbit without feeling a twinge of guilt.
Now, the man in the water was a warrior. He was covered head to toe in a sickening cocktail of blood, ash, and mountain soil. It was matted into his hair and smeared across his brow like war paint.
He reached down and pulled his shirt over his head, discarding the ruined fabric. The blood had soaked through, adorning his bare chest in dark, rust-colored streaks that mapped out the violence he had endured. Even his pants were heavy with it, damp and stiff.
As he submerged his hands in the cool water, the images replayed in a relentless loop: the spray of red as his blade found a throat, the roar of the Reapers, the desperate, wide eyes of the Grounders as the fire took them.
He closed his eyes, scrubbing the ash from his skin with a ferocity that bordered on desperate. But as the water turned grey and murky around him, one thought remained clear: He had no regrets. The Grounders and the Reapers had brought this upon themselves. They had looked at a group of children and seen only prey. They wanted a war of extinction, and Jason had simply given them exactly what they asked for. If being the monster meant keeping his people alive, he would wear that skin until the end.
Jason watched Raven as she scrubbed the soot from her skin. She had discarded her shirt, standing bare-chested in the shallow water, her skin pale against the dark greenery of the forest. He saw the tremor, then a violent, uncontrollable shaking in her shoulders that she couldn't hide.
Jason waded closer, the water rippling around his waist. "Raven," he said softly. "Are you alright?"
She turned toward him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears that finally spilled over, carving tracks through the remaining ash on her cheeks. Without a word, she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her forehead into his shoulder. Jason held her tight, the warmth of her bare chest pressing against him as he felt her heart hammering a frantic rhythm.
"It's all gone to shit, Jason," she sobbed, her voice muffled against his skin. "All of it. It wasn't supposed to be like this. We were supposed to build something... we were supposed to be safe."
Jason closed his eyes, his hands resting on the small of her back. "Nothing ever goes as planned in this accursed world," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "We're learning that the hard way. Every day is a new lesson in how much blood it costs to stay alive."
They finished washing in silence, the water turning dark and grey as it carried away the remnants of the massacre.
As they climbed out and began to dry themselves, the reality of their situation settled back in like a heavy fog. Raven pulled her clothes back on, her brow furrowed. "Any ideas where our people were taken? And by who? I doubt the Grounders survived that blast near the ship... unless they had reinforcements nearby who ambushed the survivors."
Jason shook his head, pulling his own boots on. "No. I don't think so. Those canisters I found... they didn't smell like smoke or fire. It was a nerve agent. High-end chemical tech."
Raven frowned, her hands pausing on her belt. "Who would have that kind of tech down here?"
"The Mountain Men," Jason said, his voice cold.
Raven's face went slack. "Wait, what? Why would they—"
"AGHHH!"
A raw, pained shout tore through the air, echoing from a clearing only a few hundred meters away. Jason and Raven's heads snapped toward the sound. They didn't need to speak as they immediately moved, grabbing their remaining clothes and dressing up frantically.
"We need to be careful," Raven whispered as they plunged back into the thicket, "It could be a trap. More Grounders."
Jason didn't answer as he moved, his feet barely making a sound on the forest floor. They reached a dense line of bushes overlooking a small clearing and dropped low, peering through the leaves.
"What the hell..." Raven breathed.
In the center of the clearing, the world was a mess of mud and violence. Bellamy Blake was on his knees, his face a mask of blood and swelling, being systematically beaten by a group of four Grounders. Behind him, sprawled in the dirt and gasping for air, was Finn.
Jason remembered the last time he'd seen them, they panicked sprint away from the dropship as the engines began to scream. They hadn't made it far enough to escape the shockwave, and now, they were being hunted like wounded animals.
One Grounder, a massive brute with a scarred chest, raised a heavy club to finish Bellamy.
"Now!" Finn roared from the ground.
The "Spacewalker" moved with a sudden, desperate agility. As one of the Grounders leaned down to grab his throat, Finn slammed a jagged shard of metal part of a scavenged hull plate directly into the warrior's eye socket. It was a messy sight. The Grounder let out a horrific, high-pitched shriek, clutching at the metal protruding from his skull before collapsing into a heap of twitching limbs.
'Atta boy,' Jason thought, narrowing his eyes before moving away from Raven to look around if there were others nearby.
Bellamy used the distraction to lunge forward, tackling the legs of the brute with the club, but the other two Grounders were already closing in. One of them raised a spear, the tip aimed directly at Bellamy's exposed back.
Jason, seeing this, immediately reached down and snatched a stone from the dirt. With a fluid, explosive motion of his shoulder, he hurled it.
The stone flew with pin-point accuracy, cutting through the air like a bullet. It connected with the spear-wielder's temple with a sickening crack. The man's head snapped sideways, his skull caving under the superhuman force of the impact. He dropped like a stone, dead before he hit the ground.
As the two remaining Grounders spun in confusion, searching for the source of the lethal stone that had just crushed their comrade's skull, the brush on the opposite side erupted.
Monroe and Sterling charged into the light, faces twisted with a mix of terror and newfound resolve. Jason's eyes widened. 'What the hell?' he thought, his hand pausing on another stone. From the corner of his eye, he saw Murphy slip out of the shadows near where Raven was crouched. The "idiots," as Jason affectionately thought of them, didn't hesitate. They threw themselves into the fray alongside the battered Bellamy and Finn.
The fight was short as the grounders, now outnumbered and flanked, fought like cornered wolves. One lunged at Monroe, his blade whistling toward her throat, but her injured side made her sluggish. She stumbled, eyes going wide as death leaned in until Bellamy's shoulder slammed into the warrior, sending him reeling. Finn didn't miss the opening. He drove the spear on the floor into the man's chest, while Sterling helped Bellamy finish the last one.
After a while Raven and Murphy emerged from the treeline as Jason vaulted down from his ledge, landing silently in the dirt.
"Jason?" Bellamy croaked, his voice thick with disbelief. He wiped a smear of blood from his eye, staring at the man who had effectively saved his life from twenty yards away with a rock. "Raven... oh my god. You guys are alive."
Finn didn't say a word; he simply lunged forward and pulled Raven into a fierce embrace.
"Woah, careful!" Raven joked weakly, though her eyes were shining. "I just washed up."
The absurd levity of the moment actually forced a ragged laugh out of the group. Bellamy's gaze then drifted to Murphy, who stood off to the side, looking like he'd been dragged through hell.
"I thought you were dead," Bellamy said bluntly.
"Well, I'm not," Murphy snapped back, his face caked in a mask of dried gore.
The humor vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "What happened back at the camp?" Bellamy asked, his voice dropping an octave.
Jason stepped forward, his expression grim. "The camp is gone, Bellamy. Everything's turned to ash. Our people... they weren't killed but were all taken away."
"What?" Finn gasped, pulling back from Raven.
"Clarke and the others?" Bellamy's voice trembled.
"All gone," Raven finished, her voice flat with grief.
Monroe and Sterling stood off to the side, their chests heaving. They felt a strange, flickering pride beneath their guilt; Jason's brutal drills had actually worked. They hadn't been useless. They had fought, and they had won.
Twang.
Out of nowhere, an arrow whistled through the air. Jason's hand moved in a blur of superhuman reflex. He caught the shaft inches from his chest. Before the others could even blink, a Grounder leaped from the high branches, sword raised for a dual-execution.
Jason didn't hesitate. He snapped his wrist, hurling the caught arrow back upward with lethal velocity. It buried itself in the throat of the archer still in the tree.
As Jason spun to face the swordsman, Bellamy snatched up a dropped Grounder blade, ready to meet the charge. But just as the warrior drew back for a killing slash, a thunderous BOOM echoed through the valley.
The Grounder's shoulder disintegrated in a spray of red. He let out a roar of agony, dropping to one knee as Bellamy's blade swept out, slicing deep into the man's thigh. A second shot followed instantly, a high-caliber round that left a sickening hole where the man's head had been.
Jason and the others whirled around, weapons raised, expecting to see the rest of the 100. Instead, Jason felt the rhythmic, heavy tread of multiple boots. Soldiers?.
Marching into the clearing with an assault rifle held in a low-ready position was Marcus Kane. He was flanked by a squad of armored guards, their gear looking pristine and alien against the dirt of the Earth. Behind them walked Abby Griffin.
Finn and Bellamy took a step back, their faces pale. They had seen the Ark fall, but they had assumed it was a funeral pyre. They were wrong.
"Raven!" Abby cried out, her professional mask shattering as she rushed forward to hug the girl. She pulled back, her eyes frantic, searching the small group. "Where is she? Where's Clarke?"
The silence that followed was deafening. Jason saw the exact moment Abby's heart broke as Raven whispered, "She's not here, Abby. She's gone."
Kane's gaze locked onto Jason. He paused, his eyes narrowing in recognition. "You. You must be Jason."
Jason nodded slowly, looking Kane in the eye, "Glad to see you made it. But we need to move. Now. We have to find the rest of them."
"They were taken," Jason added, gesturing to the forest. "We don't have time for a debrief."
Kane stepped forward, placing a heavy hand on Jason's shoulder, his voice sounding with a confidence that felt entirely out of place in this lawless woods. "We're here now," Kane announced to the ragged group of survivors. "Everything is going to be okay."
Jason looked at the sophisticated rifles, then at the bruised faces of Bellamy and Raven, and then back at the dark and hungry treeline.
'Yeah,' Jason thought, his jaw tightening. 'I seriously doubt that.'