For hours, the distant whistles of the Ark guards had acted as indication of them looking for the person shot, but now, the only sounds were the rustle of leaves and the frantic thrumming of their own hearts.
Jason came to a sudden, rigid halt. His head snapped to the left, his eyes locking onto a patch of churned mud.
"What is it?" Finn whispered, wiping sweat from his brow.
"You see something?" Bellamy added, stepping up beside him.
Jason didn't answer immediately. He moved toward the indentation, kneeling in the dirt. It was a footprint, the unmistakable heavy mark of a grounder's sandal.
"Well," Raven said as she gripped her rifle, "that's either a good sign or a very bad one."
Jason narrowed his eyes, his finger tracing the edge of the print. "Not entirely bad," he responded, "They aren't heading toward the Ark. And the footprint... it's just this one. For now."
"Give it a few hundred yards," Murphy muttered, looking around the dark canopy. "We'll likely see more up ahead."
"He's not wrong," Raven admitted, glancing at the trail of blood they had been following from the Mountain Man scout.
Jason looked up in the direction the footprint was headed. The blood trail from their previous target was growing thin. He stood up, his expression hardening into a mask of lethal intent. "Change of plans."
"What?" Finn asked.
"Anything could have happened to the injured person we were following," Jason explained. "Grounders or maybe just this one could have reached the scout first. If they found the Mountain Man, they have the answers we need. We follow this print."
Bellamy gave a sharp, determined nod. "We follow the print. Let's move."
They moved as fast as they could, scouring the land ahead. Just as Murphy had predicted, the single set of tracks soon joined others. There were more Grounders now, a full hunting party. Jason's mind was already three steps ahead. He needed information. Grounders were stubborn, bred in a culture where pain was a badge of honor, but he knew how to break a man.
As they moved, Jason's nose flared. His super-soldier senses picked up the pungent, heavy musk of the warriors ahead.
'Thank God they stink,' he thought with a dark, sarcastic smirk. Hygiene really isn't a priority when you're a savage.
"Ahead," Jason whispered, signaling the others.
They covered the final stretch of ground quickly until the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the trees. Jason dropped low, the others mimicking his movement as they disappeared into a dense thicket of ferns.
Through the leaves, the Grounder party finally came into view.
"There are at least six of them," Bellamy whispered, his eyes scanning the warriors.
Raven raised her scavenged scope, her breath hitching in her throat. "I don't see any of our people nearby," she whispered.
"No," Finn added, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and grief. "But they've got some of their things."
One of the Grounders was draped in a familiar blue jacket from the 100; another had a canteen hanging from his belt that clearly belonged to one of their friends. They were scavengers, picking the bones of the massacre at the dropship.
Jason's eyes, however, were locked on the man in the center. He was a horrific sight. Half of his face was a ruin of melted, puckered scar tissue, a massive burn that had claimed his eye and left him with a sightless eye. Despite the deformity, he moved with a terrifying, rhythmic purpose, "What the hell..." Finn's voice cut through his thoughts.
Jason, who had been mentally mapping the trajectories to neutralize the group, didn't look away from the clearing and asked "What is it?"
"That scarred guy," Finn said, his breathing hitching. "Look at his neck."
Jason didn't need the scope. His enhanced vision narrowed, cutting through the forest's gloom to focus on the scarred warrior. Hanging from a crude leather cord around the man's throat was a glint of polished silver leather watch.
Jason's eyes widened as the realization hit. He recognized it immediately; it was Clarke's.
"It was her father's," Finn hissed, his face pale with a mix of terror and fury. "He gave it to her before he was floated. She never took it off. She would never give that up willingly."
Bellamy squinted, his jaw tightening as he caught sight of the silver casing. "If the Mountain Men didn't take her, and the Grounders have her things..."
"No," Jason interrupted, his voice cold. "I don't think the Grounders took them. If they had, they wouldn't be scavenging the perimeter for scraps. They found this after the fact but they might know where they are." He looked at the team, his gaze turning predatory. "Alright. We only need one of them for questioning. Mr. Scar Face is our victim."
"What's the play?" Raven whispered.
"No shots," Jason commanded. "We do this quietly."
——————
As the Grounders moved into a tighter formation, Jason scooped up two heavy pebbles. Without a second thought, he flicked his wrist with the force of a catapult. He didn't even look back to see them hit; he knew the wet thwack meant two scouts were down with shattered skulls.
Bellamy, Finn, Raven and Murphy moved in from the flanks, dropping the remaining three warriors one by one while Jason kept a peripheral watch, ensuring no stray scout ambushed his team. He was proud, their movements were sharper, less like scared kids and more like the soldiers he had trained them to be.
The burned leader, unaware of what was going on, was moving towards where he'd heard strange noises, "Hey!" Jason called out loudly.
The Grounder turned, his one good eye widening in terror. Before he could raise his blade, Jason's fist connected with his jaw with the force of a sledgehammer. The man's head snapped back, and he collapsed into a heap of unconscious muscle.
Finn lunged forward, his fingers trembling as he snatched the watch from the man's neck. Jason didn't say a word; he simply heaved the massive, unconscious warrior onto his shoulders, "Time for an interrogation," Jason grunted.
They found a nearby pre-war bunker and had hauled the man inside and bound him to a rusted chair with cables.
When the Grounder finally groaned, blinking groggily, he found himself staring into a face that had become a legend of terror among his people. Jason stood directly in front of him, leaning towards him with a terrifying, amused smile.
The one-eyed man struggled against his restraints, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Recognition flared in his good eye.
"Oh, you know me," Jason said with a smooth and dangerous tone. "Well, that's good."
The Grounder looked down to see his own sword pressed firmly against his windpipe. Jason held the hilt with a casual ease.
"Which means," Jason continued, his smile widening, "you know I don't have any issues with helping your head gain a newfound freedom away from your neck."
The Grounder gulped, the blade drawing a thin line of red. Finn stepped into the light, his eyes dark and narrowed. He held the watch inches from the man's face. "Where did you get this?" he demanded.
The Grounder remained silent, his gaze darting back to Jason, terrified by the "Smiling Butcher's" casual demeanor.
"I said where!" Finn screamed, losing his composure. He landed a heavy punch across the man's scarred face. "I know you speak English! Tell me!"
"You'd better talk before this gets uglier than your face," Raven added with a cold voice as she leaned against the bunker wall.
The man yelped as Jason applied a fraction more pressure to the sword. "Well," Jason mused, "if you won't talk, we can just go find one of your other friends to speak up and kill you. I'm fine with either."
The bluff worked. The Grounder's eyes went wide with a frantic, animal fear. "I found it! Outside your camp!" he panted, the words tumbling out in panic, "It was just lying on the ground! In the dirt!"
"You're lying!" Finn roared, pulling his pistol and aiming it at the man's forehead. He looked like he was seconds away from pulling the trigger.
Jason's expression went ice-cold. "Step away, Finn."
Finn shook his head, his hand shaking. "He's lying, Jason! He has to be!"
Jason stepped into Finn's space, his towering physique casting a shadow over the smaller boy. "Are you challenging me?"
Bellamy stepped in quickly, grabbing Finn's shoulder and pulling him back. "Let him do his job, Finn. Back off." Jason turned back to the prisoner, the smile gone, replaced by a void. "You don't want to die today," Jason said softly. "So tell me everything you saw before I change my mind and let my friend have his turn with you."
The prisoner looked at Jason's eyes which looked void of mercy and filled with a predatory stillness and his resolve crumbled like dry ash.
"East," the Grounder gasped, the word rattling in his throat.
"That was easy," Murphy muttered, leaning back against a rusted table.
"Shut up, Murphy," Raven said, her eyes never leaving the prisoner. The man swallowed hard, the blade in Jason's hand still pricking his skin. "The tunnels to the east... that is where we take our prisoners. To the reservoir. If your people are with the Mountain men, they are being held there."
Jason pulled the sword back an inch, a ghost of that terrifying, amused smile returning. "There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"
Finn stepped forward, thrusting a crumpled piece of paper and a charcoal stick toward the man. "Draw us a map. Now."
While the Grounder's trembling hands began to scratch lines onto the paper, Jason caught Finn's eye and jerked his head toward the corner of the bunker. Finn followed, his jaw set in a stubborn line.
"Don't ever pull a stunt like that again," Jason whispered, his voice a low, lethal vibration. "You don't challenge me in front of a prisoner, and you don't play 'bad cop' unless I tell you to. You're lucky I didn't break your arm."
Finn looked like he wanted to argue, his grief for Clarke boiling just under the surface, but he saw the cold reality in Jason's gaze. He reluctantly nodded. As he walked back toward the others, he caught Raven watching him, her expression was a mix of pity and warning. She knew Jason wasn't just another teenager who was playing leader, he was one and that demanded respect. The Grounder finished the map. Jason snatched it up, gave it a cursory glance to ensure the landmarks made sense, and then handed it to Bellamy. "Hold that for me, will you? We're moving out."
"Whoa, whoa," Murphy interjected, gesturing with his rifle toward the bound man. "What about Mr. Grounder-Hugger here?"
Finn looked at the man, his eyes hardening. "He's right. We can't just leave him for other Grounders to find. He'll rat us out the second his friends cut those cables."
Bellamy sighed, looking at the man's scarred, terrified face. "You're right, but we can't exactly take him with us, and we can't leave him alive to—"
SCHLICK.
Before anyone could finish the thought, a silver arc of steel flashed through the bunker. A heavy thud followed as the Grounder's head hit the concrete floor, rolling several inches until it stopped right at Raven's boots.
The silence that followed was absolute.
Jason gave the heavy sword a sharp, professional flick, snapping the excess blood onto the floor before sliding it into the scabbard on his back. He didn't look at the body. He didn't even look at his friends.
"No delays," Jason said, his voice flat. "Let's move."
Murphy stared at the headless corpse, then at Jason's retreating back. "You know," he muttered, "sometimes I seriously don't believe that guy is human. I mean, I'm a prick, but that? That's some next-level circuitry."
"If he didn't do it, I would have," Finn said with a cold voice before moving to follow Jason. Murphy turned to Bellamy, a look of genuine disbelief on his face. "And you think I'm messed up? Look at the 'Golden Boy' and the 'Spacewalker.' We're all monsters now."
Raven kept a straight face, staring down at the head on the floor with a chillingly vacant expression. She was already past the point of being shocked by the cost of survival. Bellamy, however, stayed behind for a second longer. He looked at the blood pooling on the floor and thought about the kids they had been back on the Ark, how they used to get in trouble for stealing extra rations or skipping work shifts.
"Move out!" Jason's voice echoed from the bunker's exit.