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hd-junglebook · 3 months

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Part 2

word count - 3,446

The five of you stood at the side of the cliff, your hearts pounding with anticipation as Finn gripped the rope tightly in his hand, ready to swing across the gap. Finn prepared to make his leap, Jasper piped up, his voice filled with determination. "Wait, guys. Let me do it. I've got this."

There was a moment of stunned silence as his words sunk in. Clarke glanced at him, concern etched across her features. "Jasper, are you sure? It's a long way across." But Jasper was already stepping forward, a defiant gleam in his eyes. "Clarke. Trust me, I can do this."

The rest of you exchanged uncertain glances, but Finn nodded in agreement. "Let him try. We don't have much time."

With a collective cheer, you urged Jasper on as he gripped the rope and launched himself into the air. For a moment, he sailed across the gap with grace, his movements fluid and confident. As Jasper neared the other side, a spear soared through the air straight into his chest, sending him careening off course.

With a sickening thud, he collided with the rock behind him, the impact knocking the wind out of him.

"Jasper!" Clarke cried out in horror, rushing forward to help him. The rest of you watched in shock, the reality of the situation sinking in. You were not alone in these woods.

Finn took charge, his voice urgent as he scanned the surrounding area. "We need to move. Now. Whatever hit Jasper could still be out there."

You stood in stunned silence by yourself, gears turning in your head at the lack of choices you seemed to have in this moment. Clarkes voice waking you back up from your daze. You crouch down out of sight of whatever was out there.

The woods seemed darker and more foreboding now, every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs sending shivers down your spine. You looked back at Jaspers figure once more pinned to the rock, catching sight of Monty out in the open.

"Well, this is just fantastic. I always wanted to be stuck in a survival situation with a bunch of amateurs." You whisper to yourself, scanning the woods around you before lunging towards Monty, dragging him by his ear back to the group.

"We are so screwed," Octavia insisted, her eyes darting from tree to tree as if searching for any sign of their missing friend.

Out of nowhere, Jasper's chilling scream pierced through the stillness of the forest, sending a shiver down your spine and causing your blood to run cold. Panic surged through you, your mind racing with fear and uncertainty.

"Clarke, Jasper. He's alive," you gasped out, your voice trembling with a mix of relief and dread.

But Clarke was already moving, her determination unwavering as she raced ahead, heedless of Finn's warning. "Clarke, wait. Wait! Wait," Finn called out desperately, but she didn't stop.

Monty's voice trembled with fear as he scanned the surrounding trees, removing himself from you side to stand at the cliffs edge once more. "No. Where is he?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes wide with horror.

"They took him," Clarke replied, her tone heavy with sorrow and rage. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, feeling paralyzed as you crouched in the depths of the forest, knowing that Jasper was now in the hands of whatever lurked in the woods.

---

The four of you sprinted through the dense undergrowth, the branches seemed to claw at your skin, leaving scratches in their wake. You reached out, grabbing Octavia's arm with clammy hands, pulling her along with you as you dodged and weaved through the obstacles in your path.

Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed Monty and Clarke lagging behind, their breath coming in ragged gasps. "Come on, guys! We're almost there!" you shouted back, urging them to pick up the pace. The forest around you seemed to darken, the sunlight filtering through the canopy overhead seems to diminish with each passing step.

light struggled to penetrate the thick trees behind you, casting long shadows that stretch across the forest floor like fingers reaching out to pull you deeper into the gloom with every step you took towards the safety of the camp.

The distant flicker of the campfire beckoned through the thick brush, you could almost feel the warmth of the flames against your skin, driving you forward despite the burning ache in your legs. Each step was a struggle, your muscles screaming in protest from the relentless exertion of running from Mount Weather.

You pushed Octavia forward through the trees, finally reaching the group, you were met with a scene that sent a chill down your spine. Murphy and Wells were engaged in a vicious knife fight, their faces contorted with anger and desperation.

Clarke stepped in front of you, her voice sharp with urgency. "Wells! Let him go!" she yelled, pushing herself through the crowd to intervene.

“Alright enough you two!” Bellamy growled as he pushed Murphy away from Wells. Meeting Clarkes angry glare before Octavia caught his attention.

He moved with determined strides, parting the sea of bodies like a ship cutting through choppy waters., his expression darkening with concern and anger. "Octavia, are you all right?" he demanded, his piercing gaze locked onto you, unwavering and intense. "You let her get hurt out there? Where's the food you were so spent on getting?”

You bristled at his accusatory tone, your sarcasm dripping like venom. "Oh, sorry, Bellamy, I was too busy dodging spears and saving Octavia to remember to pack you a picnic basket," you shot back, your frustration boiling over. "But you seem to have everything under control, as usual."

Bellamy's jaw clenched, his gaze hardening even further as he took a step closer to you. "Don't play games with me, y/n," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Finn stumbled forward, gasping for breath. "We... we didn't make it to Mount Weather," he managed to get out between labored breaths.

Clarke stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "We were attacked," she announced, her gaze sweeping over the assembled group of delinquents. "They were waiting for us, lying in ambush."Her words hung heavy in the air, a chilling reminder of the dangers that lurked in the woods beyond their camp. The group exchanged worried glances.

Clarke's gaze softened as she addressed her friends, her voice sincere. "Everything we thought we knew about the ground is wrong," she continued, her eyes meeting each of theirs in turn. "There are people here, survivors. The good news is, that means we can survive. Radiation won't kill us."

"Yeah, the bad news is the Grounders will," Finn admitted, his eyes reflecting the gravity of their situation.

Wells limped towards the group, grimacing in pain as his voice broke through the tension, his concern evident as he inquired about Jasper's whereabouts. "Where's the kid with the goggles?" he asked, his gaze darting around the group anxiously.

Clarke stepped forward, her expression grim as she delivered the devastating news. "Jasper was hit. They took him," she revealed anxiously. "Where is your wristband?" she demanded, turning her attention back to Wells, her eyes searching his face for answers.

Wells hesitated for a moment before responding, his voice heavy with regret. "Ask him," he replied, gesturing towards Murphy with a solemn expression.

Clarke's frustration was obvious as she processed the information. "How many?" she hissed, her voice barely above a whisper as she awaited Murphy's response.

Murphy's reply was chilling in its simplicity. "Twenty-four and counting," he admitted, his tone sinister as he confirmed the number.

Clarke's frustration boiled over, her words laced with anger. "You idiots," she spat, her voice filled with bitter disappointment. "Life support on the Ark is failing. That's why they brought us down here," she scolded, her words a reminder of the harsh reality they faced.

"Don't listen to her. She's one of the privileged. If they come down, she'll have it good," Bellamy shouted, rallying the crowd with his impassioned words. "We can take care of ourselves. That wristband on your arm? It makes you a prisoner," he declared, his tone defiant as he challenged Clarke's authority as he faced her.

"I say you're not criminals! You're fighters, survivors! The Grounders should worry about us!" His words resonated with the crowd, drawing them back to his side as they echoed their agreement.

You shook your head in disappointment at the shortsightedness of it all, the frustration evident in your expression as you watched the crowd rally behind Bellamy's reckless rhetoric.

Monty pulled you and Clarke towards him, his faced scrunched in discomfort. "What do we do now?" he asked, his eyes darting between Clarke and Bellamy as he sought your guidance.

Clarke's response was firm and resolute, her gaze unwavering as she addressed him. "Now we go after Jasper," she declared.

---

You and Clarke worked quickly to patch up Wells, the urgency of the situation lending speed to your movements as you devised a plan to rescue Jasper. Clarke and Finn's heated exchange filled the air behind you, their voices clashing in disagreement.

Finn remained steadfast in his belief that venturing back into the woods would only lead to disaster. "I'm not going anywhere, and neither should any of you. That spear was thrown with pinpoint accuracy from 300 feet," he argued back.

Clarke's frustration bubbled to the surface as she refused to entertain the idea of leaving Jasper behind. "So what, we let Jasper die? That's not gonna happen, Spacewalker." she retorted, every word seasoned with accusation.

Finn stood his ground, his expression desperate as he countered Clarke's resolve. "It's not an adventure, Clarke, it's a suicide mission," he countered.

"Clarke, we could use Bellamy," you suggested, your voice tinged with reluctance. "He has a weapon. As annoying as he is, we need all the help we can get."

Walking over to Octavia, you handed her a bottle of water, offering her a small smile of reassurance before looking over her leg once more. Clarke approached Bellamy then, her voice commanding as she addressed him. "I hear you have a gun.” Bellamy reply came without hesitation, lifting his shirt slightly to reveal the weapon strapped to his waist.

As he did, you couldn't help but notice the defined contours of his abdomen, the muscles taut and well-defined. Caught momentarily in the act of admiring, you quickly averted your gaze, but not before Bellamy's eyes flicked up, catching you in the act.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he noticed your fleeting glance. "Like what you see?" he quipped, his tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes, unable to resist a sarcastic retort. "Please, Bellamy, don't flatter yourself. I was just wondering if that thing is even loaded," you shot back, your tone laced with playful sarcasm.

Clarke nodded in agreement. “That’s good. Follow me," she instructed, her words leaving no room for argument.

You fell into step beside her, Bellamy shot you both a questioning look, his brow furrowed in confusion. "And why would I do that?" he asked, his voice edged with skepticism. The two you halting in your walking.

You couldn't resist the urge to challenge him back, his self-righteous attitude grating your nerves for the second time today, "Oh, I don't know, Bellamy. Maybe because you're not as brave as you like to pretend," you retorted, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

Bellamy's expression hardened, and he stepped closer to you, mirroring your stance, his gaze intense. For a moment, you almost step back at his closeness, but you refused to back down. "Careful, sweetheart. You don't want to find out just how wrong you are," he warned.

You squared your shoulders, meeting his gaze with equal intensity. "Try me," you mocked, your voice steady despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You walked away with Clarke, leaving Bellamy behind. You could almost feel the weight of his gaze boring into your back as you moved further away. A silent challenge lingering in the air.

---

Your focus, alongside Clarke's, remained on locating Jasper, the urgency tangible in every stride as the group trudged through the dense undergrowth. Bellamy's voice, sharp and cutting, sliced through the otherwise oppressive silence.

"Hey, hold up. What's the rush? You don't survive a spear through the heart." His words halted the group in their tracks, prompting a momentary pause in the relentless pursuit. Wells attempted to interject, his voice a soft plea for reason, "We have to find him, Bellamy,” but Murphy's abrupt intrusion blocked his path.

"We heard him scream when they moved him. We have to find him now." You voiced, restraining yourself from punching Bellamy in the face.

The exchange between you and Clarke, a tense back-and-forth of explanations and rebuttals, seemed destined to continue until Bellamy interrupted, his tone brusque and impatient. "As soon as you take those wristbands off, we can go."

“Over my dead body, Blake,” you huffed, finding his insistence infuriating. Bellamy was quick to put on a self-satisfied expression at your remark. Suddenly, Finn materialized out of the shadows, his unexpected presence bringing an abrupt halt to the argument.

"Clarke's right. We need to keep moving. We're not leaving anyone behind."

Clarke spared you one last glance, mouthing a simple ‘sorry’ before walking away with Finn taking the lead of the group. Once they dispersed, you found yourself beside Wells, Bellamy, and Murphy not far behind. Seeking solace in conversation, you struck up a dialogue with him, hoping to find some semblance of normalcy. Every step felt heavy, the worry for Jasper gnawing at your insides.

The sound of a low groan reverberated through the trees, causing both you and Clarke to snap into action. Without a second thought, you both bolted towards the source of the noise. pushing through tangled foliage and dodging gnarled roots. You finally stumbled upon Jasper, his figure slumped against a rock.

Your heart twisted at the sight of him, “Jasper!” you screamed, looking over his battered and bloodied form. Jasper's wounds were covered, a makeshift bandage hastily applied by unknown hands. Jasper groaned aloud once more, relief flooded through you at the realization that he was alive.

Before you could reach him, the ground beneath your feet gave way, the earth crumbling beneath you in a sudden collapse. Clarke's scream pierced the air as she watched you disappear into the darkness below.

She stumbled backward, her eyes wide with fear, before collapsing to the ground herself. The rest of the group rushed to her side, their shouts of concern blending with the chaos of the moment.

In the midst of the commotion, Bellamy's strong grip closed around your arm, your heart leaped into your throat, you locked eyes with Bellamy just as you were about to plummet into the unknown depths below.

For a fleeting moment, there was something indecipherable in his expression, a hint of uncertainty perhaps, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Before you could dwell on it further, you realized his attention was drawn to the wristband on your arm, and Bellamy's gaze flickered down to it for just a moment. Anger flared within you at the implication, and you snapped, "Let go, Bellamy!"

He hesitated, his grip on your arm tightening as if contemplating his next move. Panic overwhelmed you as you teetered on the edge of the pit, "I know you want to let go, Bellamy. Just do it already!" you snapped.

Bellamy's expression remained inscrutable, his gaze flickering briefly to your wristband before meeting yours again. Then, as if coming to a decision, he released you, allowing you to slip further into the spiked pit below.

Just as you were about to plummet into the abyss, Murphy's strong hand closed around your arm. The rest of the group rushed to your aid, their shouts of concern mingling with the chaos of the moment as they worked together to pull you back to safety.

With a collective effort, they hoisted you up from the brink, your heart pounding in your chest as you collapsed onto solid ground once more. Relief washed over you in a dizzying wave, but as you shot a glare at Bellamy, his gaze still lingering on you with an intensity you couldn't quite decipher.

---

Murphy and Finn rushed forward to help Jasper, you stayed back, still trying to steady your breathing after the near fall. The others scrambled to their feet, scanning the forest for any signs of danger. your eyes landed on Bellamy's gun lying on the ground nearby.

Before you could think twice, a low growl echoed through the trees, sending shivers down your spine. Your gaze shot back to the source of the sound just in time to see a sleek panther emerge from the brush, its predatory eyes fixed on Bellamy.

“Bellamy!” Clarke shouted. “Get the gun now!”

Bellamy reached in his waistband, feeling around for his gun coming up short. A look of confusion passed over his face as the panther crept closer to him. For a split second, you hesitated, your anger and resentment towards Bellamy flashing through your mind. ‘he doesn’t deserve to live.’ You thought. But against your better judgment, you lunged forward, grabbing the gun and aiming at the panther.

You fired off a shot, the sound echoing through the forest as the bullet found its mark. The panther let out a fierce roar before getting ready to strike again. You straightened your aim, stepping closer before firing another round. The panther collapsing to the ground with a loud, its threat neutralized.

Breathless and shaken, Bellamy turned to face you with an eyebrow raised. "Guess I owe you one," he replied, his tone laced with sarcasm.

---

“They're back!”

The gates of the camp swung open, allowing everyone to stream back through the camp, you found yourself lingering behind, lost in the tumult of your own thoughts. Memories of your mother, her accusing words, and the weight of her disappointment flooded your mind.

You recalled the countless times she had blamed you for her circumstances, her voice echoing in your head like a haunting refrain. The sharp sting of her words, the relentless yelling, and the coldness in her eyes all played vividly in your memory.

"You coming?" Bellamy's voice broke through your reverie, pulling you back to the present.

You glanced up, meeting his gaze briefly before looking away. "Yeah, I'll catch up," you replied tersely, your tone betraying the turmoil within. Your legs guided you without a second though, taking your place on a log settled by the fire, surrounded by the other delinquents. You let the warmth of the flames ease the tension in your shoulders.

Harper and Miller's banter provided a welcome distraction, their jokes and laughter cutting through the heavy atmosphere that hung over the camp. You found yourself drawn into their playful exchange, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you listened to their witty repartee.

"So, did you hear about the guy who stole a calendar? He got twelve months!" Harper said, laughing to herself while Miller poked the fire next to you.

"Oh man, that's almost as bad as your last joke!" Miller responded, shaking his head at her bad attempts at jokes.

You chuckled along with them, appreciating the light-hearted moment amidst the chaos of your situation. You caught yourself watching Bellamy, your eyes hazily looking over at the line forming in front of him.

"Next!" Bellamy shouted, while Murphy continued to break off the wristbands of each delinquent in line. You watched as he worked efficiently, his movements brisk and purposeful as he conducted his trade.

"Food for wristbands. One at a time, let's keep it moving."

Despite your lingering resentment towards him, you couldn't help but admire his resourcefulness and determination to provide for the group.

But when Bellamy's gaze briefly met yours, you couldn't bring yourself to accept his offer of food, instead choosing to remain seated by the fire, surrounded by the company of your fellow delinquents.

Every now and then, a knowing glint danced in your eyes, a subtle acknowledgment of the secret you held close. While Bellamy spoke with confidence, there was a hint of unease in his demeanor, a flicker of uncertainty that betrayed his facade of bravado.

It was clear to you that he didn't realize you were privy to his secret, the truth behind his presence on the dropship, the lengths he went to in order to secure his spot among the delinquents.

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