The innate fear in Wells' eyes was almost comical, Bellamy thought, as he held the gun to the dark skinned boy's face. He had taken the boy away from the camp at gun point to this clearing to make something very clear to him.
He actually thought he was going to kill him. Bellamy had to force himself to conceal the smirk that wanted to form.
He certainly wanted to kill Wells. He had plenty of reason too, and no one would really care if he offed the chancellor's son. Hell, killing Wells would probably elevate him to God-like status amongst the delinquents. As much as Bellamy liked that idea, no trigger was being pulled on this night.
Far too messy. No, Wells was more important to him alive. He only needed some people in particular to think he was dead.
"I don't want to kill you Wells, hell, I like you." He lied, wondering when he became such a good comedian. "But I do need them to think that you're dead." He pointed up at the sky with his pistol, signaling the Ark.
"Why are you doing this?" Wells responded, stalling while he tried to think of a way out of his predicament. "For real, not some crap about 'whatever the hell we want'."
Bellamy glanced at the ground briefly, remembering what he had to do to get on the drop ship, along with what would happen to him if the Ark came down. "I have my reasons." He replied cryptically. "I also have the gun, so I ask the questions." He decided the night was young and the stars were bright, so there was time to go about his plan somewhat diplomatically. "I mean don't you at least want to stand up to your father this once and tell him to go fuck himself?" He tried convincing Wells to go against his father, for locking him up and sending him down to die, but the boy was clearly too good for his own good.
"No. Not happening, is that clear enough for you?" He said firmly. Bellamy sighed. The kid had guts, he had to give him that. But evidently he didn't have the brains to back that up. "Yeah it is." He said flatly, cocking his pistol. Wells stiffened when he heard the hammer cock, but again, he assumed too much. Again, Bellamy had no intention of shooting him. He only did what he did, partly because the sight of Wells crapping his pants was very amusing indeed, but mostly, it was a distraction.
Wells stood, frozen in fear. He never noticed Bellamy's henchmen, Murphy and the other one, creeping up behind him before it was too late, and in an instant, he was pinned to the ground, a metal rod jammed between his wristband and the skin underneath. Wells roared and shouted in protest, but it wasn't going to help, and no one was going to hear him. The rockface he had been taken behind would block any sound from reaching the camp.
Bellamy snuffed a laugh as the wristband was about to be cranked off. He decided enough was enough, and turned on his heel to walk back to the camp, only to be stopped in his tracks.
The next morning, the group stood before the river crossing, the water rushing fast and strong beneath them. A makeshift vine rope stretched across the span, tied tightly to trees on either side.
"You wanted to go first. Now quit stalling. Mount Weather awaits," Clarke said firmly, her gaze landing on Finn and Jason as they retightened the rope again and again.
"Just hang on till the apogee and you'll be fine," Jasper encouraged from the rocks below, Monty at his side.
"The apogee… like the Indians, right?" Finn asked, brows furrowing.
"That's the Apache, not the apogee, Finn," Jason corrected, his voice flat but sharp with amusement.
Finn smirked like he'd expected the jab. Clarke wasn't as patient. "He knows. Today, guys."
"Aye, aye, Captain," Finn said, flashing a two-fingered salute. "See you on the other side."
Jason was about to watch Finn take the rope when a thought struck him, hard and unshakable. His jaw tightened as he reached out. "Wait. Let me go first."
Finn paused, brow raised, but after a moment he nodded and handed Jason the rope. Jason gripped the vines, eyes flicking to Jasper. 'Kid, you have no idea the world of pain you just dodged.' His gaze shifted again, this time to Octavia and Clarke. Both gave him small, encouraging smiles. That was enough.
He ran forward, leapt, tucked his legs around the rope, and swung. Wind rushed past his face, the river a blur of silver and foam below. And then, just because he could, he decided to jump off early. His body hit the sand, momentum carrying him into a roll before he popped back up on the small sandy shore.
"I'm fine!" he yelled, throwing his arms out at the worried faces staring back at him.
"Show-off!" Finn called.
"I'm next!" Jasper said quickly, his voice breaking with both excitement and nerves.
Jason grinned and threw them a thumbs-up. Then he turned, walking toward the rusted metal half-buried in the sand. With a grunt he lifted the barely intact Mount Weather sign, holding it high so they could see.
"We did it!" he shouted across the lake.
"Yes!" Monty yelled.
"Whoo-hoo!" others chimed in, voices carrying.
But Jason's smile faltered. Something prickled at the back of his neck, the same sense he always trusted in his old life when things went bad. 'Now…Where are you…'
The thought was answered almost instantly. A spear whistled through the air, aimed dead at his chest. Behind it, he caught the faint outline of a figure in the trees camouflaged.
Jason's body moved before thought caught up. He sidestepped smoothly, snatched the spear from midair, and with a fluid spin hurled it back toward the trees.
A cry split the forest as the weapon found its mark. High above, a figure shifted no, fell and landed hard before scrambling back to his feet, one arm clutching a pierced shoulder. The Grounder didn't stay. He bolted, disappearing into the cover of the woods.
Jason exhaled hard.
'Holy shit. That was smoother than I expected… but he survived.'
Infront of him, panicked voices rose.
"Jason! Are you okay!?" Clarke's voice cut through the others.
"Everyone stay the fuck down and stop talking!" Jason barked, his tone snapping them into silence. Even if he'd seen the Grounder run, there was no telling if more were out there. Better to stay sharp.
He sprinted along the shore to a shallower point, dove into the water, and swam hard until he reached their side. Finn and Jasper leaned over, grabbing his arms and hauling him back onto the rocks.
Clarke's face was pale. "We're not alone."
"No, we're not, Clarke," Jason said grimly, catching his breath. "We need to make our way back to the dropship." Jasper and Monty looked seconds away from panic, and the others were shifting uneasily, voices rising. Jason didn't wait and quickly set the pace, pushing them into a run through the forest.
"Do you know where we're going!?" Finn shouted from behind, feet pounding against roots and soil.
"Yeah, I do!" Jason snapped back, his irritation was sharp in hist tone as he worked to retrace their route. He wasn't just worried about the way back, he was watching for shadows, for backup that might already be circling. Then Monty tripped, hitting the ground with a startled cry. His hands landed in something brittle, and a cloud of bone fragments scattered across the moss.
"Come on, Monty, get up!" Finn urged, dragging him to his feet.
"H-Hold on—look at this!" Monty stammered, pointing. Jason caught it too: the bones weren't human. Clarke crouched, picking up a skull. Her brow furrowed. "What are they?"
Jason grabbed her arm, forcing her to drop the skull with a dull clatter. "That's a monkey's skull. Not human. And we don't have time for this. Move."
As they sprinted again, Finn glanced at him. "Then what was that back there? Who threw the spear?" Jason's jaw clenched. "A human. Damn it."
Octavia's voice wavered, fear cracking through. "We are not alone."
"All of you, come on!" Jason barked. "We need to get back to the dropship!"
"Right!" Clarke and Finn echoed together, and just like that the group broke into a desperate sprint, branches whipping past as they raced for safety.
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