Thanks, TikTok algorithm, for showing me a million Bellamy Blake edits that awoke the sleeper agent in me.
Thank you for the love shown on this little story so far!
Chapter Two
Hunted
For the first time in her life, Lou woke up naturally to the sounds of birdsong and rustling leaves.
A gap in her tent – a loose term for it, really, as it was nothing more than a scrap of the dropship's landing parachute fashioned into an insult of a teepee – allowed sunlight to stream in and caress her face. She touched her cheek in wonder; it was warm and tingled pleasantly under her fingers. Sunlight. Another reminder that she was on Earth, free to stretch out her limbs as far as she pleased without bumping against the harsh metal walls of the Ark or her cell in the Sky Box, free to inhale air with no metallic taste to it.
She rolled over, kicking off the thin tarp Murphy had given her to act as a blanket. She could hear voices outside, murmured and hushed; it seemed she wasn't the only early-riser. Unfurling her jacket from where she'd used it as a makeshift pillow, she pulled it on, then her boots. They were falling apart, the laces nearly disintegrating in her hands and the soles almost worn through. Being in solitary for four years certainly didn't give her priority to having her clothing items replaced on the Ark, and she doubted there were any clothes depots on Earth that had survived the bombs. Perhaps she'd have Murphy threaten someone into giving her their shoes. He seemed to have enjoyed playing the part of Bellamy Blake's enforcer the night before, after all.
She slicked back a few stray pieces of hair that had escaped her braid and stepped out of her tent. She looked at her right wrist, turning it over and marveling at how light it felt after having that damned wristband removed. A few healing holes and a bruise were the only signs it had been there in the first place. Behind Murphy, she had been all too eager to be one of the first to have the wristband taken off; her last rebellion against the Ark before she died.
More people were awake than she'd initially thought. A group of boys ran back and forth across the camp, howling at each other as they played a form of the game football they'd seen on old recordings of Earth television. Some kids huddled together by the remnants of last night's bonfire, looking around with wary, darting eyes. Half-awake bodies were strewn everywhere, some people sleeping alone on the softest patch of dirt they could find and some sleeping in pairs in various states of undress. Lou wrinkled her nose at those ones.
A radiation-soaked planet, no shelter, no food – but sure, sex is a high priority.
"Morning, Killer Queen."
Murphy sidled up to her, and her gaze went to the crude weapon in his hand. It appeared to be some sort of knife made of shrapnel from the dropship.
"New toy?" she said, indicating the knife with her chin.
He grinned and held it up so she could get a better look. "Gotta keep the people in line somehow."
She raised an eyebrow. "Your own wisdom, or did you get that from Bellamy, too?"
"Got a problem with the way I do things?"
Bellamy Blake walked over to them, yanking on a ratty shirt instead of the guard uniform he'd been wearing yesterday. She caught a glimpse of a gun holstered in the waistband of his pants before his shirt covered it. He approached them and clapped Murphy on the shoulder. His dark curls were mussed, and Lou guessed it wasn't only from sleep when a girl strutted out of the large and spacious tent he'd claimed as his own. She made a face.
"I don't care how you do things," she said. "What was it you said last night? Whatever the hell we want?" She shrugged. "So, do whatever the hell you want."
His eyes narrowed, and she remembered the way he'd looked at her from across the bonfire. She'd seen it in the gazes of every guard who'd ever come into her cell, every doctor who'd stitched her wounds when solitary became too much. The judgment, the damnation, as if their thoughts alone could breed enough punishment for her supposed sins. The look had grown stale after a while.
"Relax, Bellamy," Murphy said, catching the hard expression on his face. "Lou's one of us, remember?" He gestured to the empty space on her wrist where the band used to be. "Plus, she'll be useful." He turned back to Lou. "You still have good aim, or did solitary take that away from you, too?"
"The hell's that supposed to mean?" Bellamy asked, his eyes sliding between Murphy and Lou.
She sighed. "I don't suppose you'll let me see that gun?" she said to Bellamy.
His answering sneer was smug. "Not a chance."
"Saw that coming. Toy?" She held out her hand to Murphy. Although he frowned at her nickname for his supposed weapon, he handed it over. She weighed it experimentally before speaking to Bellamy. "Pick a target. Preferably non-human for this demonstration."
"What's this about?" he demanded.
Murphy smirked. "Daddy Andersen was the weapons engineer on the Ark before he kicked it. Maintenance, handling, ammunitions maker. Killer Queen here used to sneak me in so we could "test" the guards' guns. She knows her way around a target."
"Probably made it a lot easier to know where to stab, too, right?" Bellamy said, derisive, but there was a glint of curiosity in his gaze. "How'd you two not get caught?"
"It's easier to steal when you're able to replace what you stole in the first place," Lou said with a small shrug. "I used to help my dad make ammo." She waved the knife in her hand. "And he taught me how to never miss no matter the weapon."
"Go on, then." Bellamy crossed his arms. "That tree over there. The one that looks like it got hit by lightning."
Lou turned. Across the camp stood a blackened and charred tree, barely three meters wide and a good fifty yards away. Before she was arrested, she could have made that hit easily. Now, she only hoped she still had the strength to not make a fool of herself. But Murphy's knife was small, the blade only a few inches long, and the handle was more of a shank than a proper grip. If she put her back into it, she could count on air to do the rest.
Aware of Bellamy's and Murphy's gazes on her back, she rolled her shoulders and shuffled her feet into a staggered stance. She used to practice alone in her cell with whatever the guards would allow her that week — a pencil, the plastic tray from mealtimes, her own shoe. There had been a dent in the wall from a past prisoner, and she'd imagined it as her bullseye. She'd throw for hours, or until however long it took for her guard to threaten to zap her if she didn't shut up. She imagined it was one of the only things that kept her from going insane.
She inhaled and exhaled on a five-count, then hurled Murphy's knife with all the strength her wasted body had left. The blade caught a nice spin, but there was only a dull clunk when it hit the tree before it fell lamely to the ground. Bellamy snickered behind her, and she whirled, her face hot.
"At least it hit the damn thing!" she hissed. She shot a glare at Murphy. "Next time you want a functional weapon, make it a bit bigger — unless you were planning to use it on mice."
Murphy held up his hands, but his lips barely held back an amused grin. Bellamy watched her with merciless eyes.
"Well, if my tent falls down, at least I know someone with a good arm to help me get it back up," he said, and Murphy chuckled.
Lou was about to tell him exactly where he could stick that knife before there was a commotion on the other side of the camp. More people had woken up, and they got to their feet and exclaimed loudly at whatever was happening.
"Grab your knife," Bellamy told Murphy. "Let's find out what all the fuss is about."
As Murphy hurried to retrieve his weapon, Lou followed Bellamy across the camp, urgency making their steps quick.
"Maybe it's the Mount Weather group," she said when his hand went to his gun. "Your sister's back."
"Or it's someone else," he said darkly.
She wondered what he meant by that. There were no more humans on Earth. Who else would he be expecting?
They crested the ridge of the camp and Lou saw that she had been right when she spotted the familiar blonde head of Clarke Griffin. Before she could say anything, Bellamy had taken off, running to where his sister Octavia sat on a tree stump, holding one of her legs out gingerly. There was a bandage cinched around her upper thigh, and Lou's adrenaline began pumping as she took in the rest of the bedraggled group. There were no signs of supplies on them, and…
"Wait." Wells Jaha was already there, speaking to Clarke. "Where's the kid with the goggles? Jasper?"
Clarke shared a grim look with Finn, the Spacewalker. "Jasper was hit," she told the crowd of growing onlookers, and gasps went up around the clearing.
"Hit with what?" Wells asked, shocked.
"By a spear," Finn said. "Looked human-made, too."
"Are you saying there're people out there?" Bellamy said in disbelief, looking up from where he was hovering over Octavia protectively. The crowd began to mutter. "That's impossible. The last Grounder died on the Ark a hundred years ago."
"Well, he wasn't the last," said Finn. "There are more Grounders out there."
"They're telling the truth, Bellamy," Octavia said. She was ashen-faced, her confident demeanor gone. "I saw it, too. Jasper was injured by a Grounder. Or at least something that knows how to throw a spear."
"Injured?" Wells repeated. "He wasn't killed?"
Clarke hesitated before answering. "I don't think so. W-we heard his screams after he'd been hit. If it had pierced his heart, he would've died instantly. I think the Grounders injured him and took him. I'm going to lead a party to rescue him." She wiped her nose on her sleeve, seeming to collect her composure. "But first, Octavia, I need to take care of your leg."
"What the hell happened to her?" Bellamy demanded. "A Grounder?"
"Giant, man-eating snake," Finn said when Octavia didn't answer. "Yeah, apparently, there's all kinds of weird shit down here with us."
"Which is why we need to contact the Ark—" Clarke stopped, her eyes widening when she noticed the missing wristband on Wells's arm. Lou's eyebrow ticked up. "Where's your wristband?"
Murphy had appeared at Lou's shoulder, and he laughed at Clarke's distress. Lou leaned over to him.
"I take it that was your doing?" she asked, gesturing to Wells. "Chancellor's kid wouldn't take that wristband off willingly."
"All he needed was a little persuasion," Murphy said, twirling his knife. He sauntered toward Clarke and Wells, and after rolling her eyes, Lou followed him.
"How many people have taken off their wristbands?" Clarke demanded.
"Twenty-four and counting," Murphy supplied.
"You idiots," Clarke breathed. "The Ark is dying! If everyone up there thinks we're dead, they won't come down!"
"We can take care of ourselves," Bellamy snapped. There were a few voices of support. "We don't need the Ark."
"We need their farmers," Wells argued, "their doctors, their engineers! We won't survive a week here on our own, much less the winter."
"We're resourceful." Bellamy spread his arms, indicating the delinquents behind him. "Those people you want down here so bad locked my people up. Once they come down, we'll all go back to being nothing more than criminals, while you two, the privileged" —he pointed at Clarke and Wells— "the council kids, will have it good. Doesn't seem fair, does it?"
"Hell, no!" Murphy shouted, and several others took up the cry.
Clarke seemed at a loss for words. After several moments looking like she wanted to argue, she finally shook her head and approached Octavia. "Come on. Let's get you to the dropship."
As Bellamy and Murphy continued to preach their doctrine to the others, Lou followed Clarke, Wells, Octavia, Finn, and another boy who'd been on the scouting party to the dropship. She caught up with them just as they reached the doors.
"Hey." As the unnamed boy and Wells carried Octavia inside, Clarke and Finn turned to her. The Spacewalker looked surprised, but Clarke stared at Lou with a furrow between her brows as if trying to place her. "You guys get a good look at that spear?"
Clarke and Finn exchanged a look. "Enough to know it was a spear," said Finn.
"Why?" Clarke asked.
"Weapons say a lot about the person – or thing – that wields them," Lou said. "If you knew what it looked like, I could help you find out how it was made."
"It was too far away," Finn said, shaking his head. "He got hit on the other side of the river from us. By the time we got to the bank, he and the spear were gone, along with whatever took him."
"Oh. Right." Lou rocked back on her heels, not sure what to say next. Clarke studied her, puzzled.
"What's your name?" she asked.
Lou stiffened. "Lou."
Finn's eyes went wide. He grabbed Clarke's elbow. "Of course, you would know all about weapons." He turned to Clarke. "C'mon, Clarke; Octavia needs your help. This girl is nothing but bad news."
"Bad news that can help you figure out what you're up against," she said, glaring at Finn.
"What we're up against?" Clarke's eyes raked over her and settled on her empty wrist. "Oh, I see. You're one of Bellamy's new minions."
"Why would you wanna help us?" Finn asked, suspicious.
Lou sighed. "Look, we're all bound to die down here in a matter of days, but I'd like to prolong my freedom a bit more before that happens. Four years of solitary confinement isn't exactly living, if you know what I mean."
"Four years of solitary?" Clarke shook her head. "Only one person has been in solitary for that long… Oh." Her mouth fell open. She looked up at Lou, who stood several inches taller than her. "Louise Andersen. That's you."
She was getting sick of the introduction phase. "I could give you an autograph, if you'd like."
"Like I said." Finn crossed his arms. "Bad news."
"Well, right now, we need all the help we can get," Clarke said, her voice firm. She turned back to Lou. "Are you willing to go back out with us to find Jasper?"
Finn looked displeased, but Lou ignored him, nodding.
"Good. Find something to make a pack out of." Clarke fixed her with a determined look. "We leave in an hour."
"Clarke, this is seriously a bad idea."
Clarke marched ahead of Wells, refraining from rolling her eyes. "Funny. That's how I feel about you coming along, too."
Wells easily caught up to her with his longer stride, but she kept her gaze trained forward. Even looking at him was like a scalpel slicing off pieces of her heart.
"I'm the only one you know who will have your back," he protested. "Unless you're fine putting your life in the hands of a reckless spacewalker and a literal killer?"
Clarke didn't answer. He pressed on.
"Seriously, Clarke, Louise Andersen?" He shook his head in disbelief. "She murdered a councilmember on the Ark. Stabbed him to death over twenty times! You think you can trust that?"
"I know what she did," Clarke snapped, "but that doesn't matter down here, Wells. Survival is our priority, not comparing rap sheets."
"Fine." Wells relented, but he didn't sound happy about it. "Any other backstabbing delinquents you want to bring along?"
"Just two." Clarke approached John Murphy and Bellamy Blake where they stood talking by the low-burning bonfire. Wells suppressed a groan behind her as she planted her feet before Bellamy. "I hear you have a gun."
Bellamy looked at her suspiciously. He was the oldest among them and the only one who hadn't been locked up in the Sky Box. He'd impersonated a guard to sneak onto the dropship, and apparently still had the gun he'd stolen from the Ark, according to what Octavia told her when she was patching her up. So, she was only marginally surprised when after a brief hesitation he lifted his shirt and flashed the weapon holstered in his waistband.
"Good," she said. "You're coming with us."
"What makes you think I'd do that?" Bellamy demanded.
"Because you want them to follow you." Clarke tilted her head toward the camp of delinquents. "And right now, they think only one of us is scared."
Bellamy gave her a measured look. In the tense silence, Lou Andersen walked over to them, a makeshift pack of gear slung across her torso. She raised an eyebrow at the standoff. "Am I interrupting something?"
"Bellamy and Murphy will be joining us," Clarke told her. "You ready to go?"
She patted the knot securing her pack. "Readier than ever. Let's go get speared." She gave Bellamy a derisive look. "No objections?"
"As long as you're away from my sister, I don't care what you do," he retorted. He grabbed his jacket and swung it on, then indicated Clarke. "Lead the way, Princess."
"Hold up." Finn appeared behind them, and Clarke's heart jumped. He met her eyes. "You'll need a tracker in these woods. Luckily for you all, I happen to be a great one."
"A good grade in Earth Skills doesn't automatically qualify you as a tracker," said Murphy snidely. Finn fixed him with a cool look.
"Makes me more qualified than you, at any rate," he said. Murphy scowled.
"Enough," Clarke said before the two boys could bicker any further. "We're losing daylight. Let's go."
She forged ahead into the trees without waiting for a response, but she grinned to herself when heavy footsteps followed her. As they plunged into the forest, leaving the camp behind, her grin faded. Jasper was somewhere out in these woods, alone and critically injured, if he was even still alive. And whatever had hurt him more than likely wanted to hurt them, too. She almost would have preferred radiation poisoning than being hunted by a faceless, hostile enemy in foreign territory.
Her mother had told her she was being sent to Earth to live, but Clarke could only wonder for how long as they pressed deeper into the woods.
Lou much would have preferred to literally stop and smell the flowers growing all around them in the woods, but Clarke kept them at a breakneck pace as she led them to the spot where Jasper was last seen.
"What's the big rush?" Murphy drawled, making sure his voice carried to Clarke, Wells, and Finn in front. "That kid's probably dead by now. You don't just survive a spear through the heart."
"That's because it didn't go through his heart," Clarke retorted without looking back. "I explained it before."
"Finn said Jasper was across the river when he got hit," Lou said. "How far away was he from you guys?"
"I'd say a good three hundred yards," Finn said. He glanced back at Lou. "The spear came from our side of the river. Whoever hit him has scary accuracy."
"No kidding." Lou calculated the distance in her head. "To hit a target at that distance with that sort of accuracy to not kill him outright… Spears are heavy, and throwing one with any kind of aim takes years and years of skill and practice."
"So, we're not only dealing with someone insanely strong, but who also has years of spear-throwing proficiency?" Wells shook his head. "Great. I love Earth."
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Clarke said. "Right now, we need to focus on finding Jasper and getting him back to camp."
Murphy blew out his cheeks. "This blows."
"Complaining won't make it go any faster," Bellamy grumbled. He'd been suspiciously quiet the whole time they'd been in the woods, and Lou could almost imagine the gears turning in his head. "Let's just do this and get the hell out of here."
"For once, I agree with him," Lou said, and Bellamy shot her an ugly look.
"We should split up," Finn said after a short while. "Two teams can cover a lot more ground than just one."
"He's right," Clarke said. "Finn, Lou; with me."
"Clarke—" Wells protested, but Clarke turned her back to him.
"Cold," Lou remarked when she spotted the hurt look on Wells's face. "As the Ice Princess commands."
She joined Clarke and Finn while Wells fell back with Bellamy and Murphy. Though they kept within eyesight of each other, Finn instructed them to peel off and search for any tracks or disturbances in the undergrowth around them. Only when the other group fell out of earshot did Lou turn to Clarke.
"I thought you council kids would've been friends," Lou said, jerking her head in Wells's direction. "What gives? Don't want to share the crown?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but Wells and I are not friends," Clarke said, perturbed. "Besides, I think the only one not willing to share a crown is your king, Bellamy."
Lou made a face. "So not my king. I can't stand the guy, if we're being honest."
"You took off your wristband for him," Clarke pointed out, and Lou sniffed.
"Please. I would've done it anyway. If those things truly transmit our vital signs to the Ark, I doubt anyone cared when mine went dark."
Clarke frowned. "It's not about you. It's about the Ark knowing whether the ground is survivable or not. They need to come down here."
Lou flashed back to what Clarke had said earlier that morning. "You said the Ark was dying earlier. What did you mean by that?"
Clarke and Finn shared a hard look. Clarke turned back to her.
"Life support on the Ark is failing," she said. "They have three months at most before all the air runs out."
Lou slowly came to a stop. When Clarke didn't hear her footsteps anymore, she paused and looked back at her. Lou shook her head.
"That's impossible," she said. "The engineers will fix it. They always do."
"Not this time." Clarke sucked in a deep breath. Even Finn had stopped to listen to their conversation, his eyebrows knitted together in concern. "My father was the lead engineer. When he found out about the system failure, he tried to go to the council and get them to tell everyone on the Ark about it. The council disagreed. My father planned to go public anyway, but before he could, someone turned him in. He got floated for it."
The pain in the other girl's voice was palpable, but Lou had no idea what to do for her. Give her a hug? A pat on the back? She wasn't even entirely sure what it felt like to touch another person of her own free will again.
She looked down at the empty space on her wrist and sighed. "Well, damn."
"That doesn't matter now," Clarke said, regaining her composure and squaring her shoulders. "Jasper first. Come on; there need to be tracks somewhere."
They had only been searching for ten minutes before Wells called out to them. "I think we got something!"
They hurried to a spot about fifty yards away where Bellamy, Murphy, and Wells stood. Wells wordlessly pointed at a patch of trampled undergrowth. Red spots glittered on the deep green leaves.
"It's fresh," Bellamy said when Clarke knelt down to examine the foliage. "If those Grounders came through here with Jasper's body, then he must be nearby."
"And bleeding out," Murphy muttered.
"There's not enough blood for that," Clarke said. "Are there any tracks, Finn?"
Finn had explored several feet ahead, and he nodded. "Plenty. They don't seem worried about keeping a low profile."
"Then they don't feel threatened," Lou said. "They know their territory better than we do, and they aren't afraid to show us that."
"Meaning what?" Wells asked her grudgingly.
Lou shrugged. "They could be leading us into a trap using Jasper as the bait."
"Well, we're going to take it," Clarke said, pushing herself to her feet. "Keep that gun out," Clarke ordered Bellamy. "Let's go."
Bellamy reluctantly pulled out his gun, and they followed Clarke wordlessly. They waded across a small stream, taking a break to drink from it, and Lou could have gladly stayed there all day just to keep tasting that crisp, natural water, but Clarke led them on after about fifteen minutes.
They traveled for another half-hour, the afternoon sun filtering through the trees hot on their backs, but they came to an abrupt halt when a strangled shout pierced the calm air.
"Jasper!" Clarke yelled. She took off toward the sound of the shout, and the others had no choice but to chase after her as another shout rent the air. It reminded Lou of the death throes of an injured animal, and her stomach churned as they reached a clearing amidst the trees and were greeted by a horrific sight.
"Holy shit," Lou choked out.
The goofy kid with the goggles she'd seen the day before dangled from a tree by his wrists, shirtless and covered in a terrifying amount of blood. A patch of moss or something like it covered a large hole in his chest, consistent with being punctured by a spear, and his head lolled like a broken doll's above it.
"He's still alive," Clarke said after a moment of stunned silence. "We have to get him down from there. Murphy, your knife." She turned to Wells and Lou. "Use the strips of the landing parachute to make a stretcher. We need to get him back to the dropship so I can help him."
"The kid's a goner," Bellamy said. His face was ashen, but his voice didn't shake. "We cut him down and give him a quick death. He won't last the trip back, much less the night."
Clarke sputtered, looking around at the group, but no one said anything. Bellamy had a valid point, in Lou's opinion, though she would never say it aloud.
Clarke's eyes settled on Lou, and Lou tensed under her stare. "Well? You're the weapons expert, apparently. Will he survive?"
Lou shifted uncomfortably when all eyes turned to her. "I can't tell from down here. Besides, aren't you the healer expert?"
"We don't have time for this," Finn broke in, exasperated. "If we're going to get Jasper down, we need to do it now."
After a long, measured look, Lou folded under Clarke's gaze.
"Come on," Lou said to Wells. "Get that parachute out."
Bellamy openly scoffed and Murphy rolled his eyes, but he handed Clarke his knife so she and Finn could cut the binds on Jasper's wrists. Lou reached for the edge of the parachute sticking out of Wells's pack, but the boy flinched away from her when she got too close before catching himself. She smiled sardonically at him.
"Easy, Princeling. I don't bite. Hard."
"You're a killer," he snapped. "Clarke may have invited you to tag along, but I don't trust you, and I never will."
"Your daddy's a killer, too, according to Clarke," she said coldly, and did not miss the flash of pain in his eyes. "I don't care if you trust me or not; just get that parachute ready."
Wells did as she said, but not before shooting her a dark look. Murphy chuckled at their tension while Bellamy watched Clarke and Finn intently.
"Did I ever mention how much I missed you while you were in solitary, Andersen?" Murphy said.
"I'm not sleeping with you, Murphy."
Off to the side, Bellamy snorted. Murphy shrugged. "Worth a shot."
A low growl interrupted Lou's retort, and they all stiffened. Though the nature documentaries they'd watched in school on the Ark had been more than a century old, she still recognized the bone-chilling sound of a predator.
"The gun, Bellamy," Lou whispered, tugging on the boy's sleeve.
"Don't grab at me," he hissed, already raising his arms and sweeping the woods around them. "You want me to hit this thing or not?"
"What the hell is that?" Murphy said as the growling grew closer, rumbling in the air around them. In the tree, Clarke and Finn worked viciously at the ropes to cut Jasper down.
"A wolf?" Wells said.
A shape suddenly launched itself out of the trees, and Lou saw only claws, fangs, and mottled brown fur before stumbled back and lost her balance. Bellamy's gun rang out two shots, but he yelped and nearly tripped over her when the beast lashed out with a massive paw nearly the size of her head. The gun fell into the dirt beside her, and Lou snatched it up without thinking.
The beast was a huge cat – a mountain lion, if she had to guess, and it looked pissed and hungry. It snarled and lunged for Murphy with another giant paw, and the boy danced back with a strangled yell, his face white.
Lou braced herself on one knee in front of Wells and closed her left eye, lifting the gun in her hands. Inhale. Exhale. She squeezed the trigger.
There was a pop and a thump as the mountain lion hit the ground, its maw open in one last snarl of defiance. Blood oozed from a small hole in between its brown eyes. Lou heaved a massive sigh and lowered her arms.
"Shit," Murphy rasped, his eyes wide. "Looks like you've still got it, after all, Andersen."
She looked up when Wells thrusted a hand in her face. He gave her an impatient look when she stared, uncomprehending. Oh. She accepted his hand, and he pulled her to her feet.
"Thanks," she said, surprised.
"Nice shot" was his only reply before he left to assist Clarke and Finn. They had managed to untie Jasper, and now that the threat of the mountain lion was gone, they worked to get him down and into the makeshift stretcher.
Lou went to help, but she stopped in front of Bellamy and handed him the gun. "Here. Safety's back on." He took it carefully, watching her with a strange expression. "Sorry for earlier."
His dark eyes skimmed over her, head to foot, and she shifted uncomfortably. "Don't sweat it."
Her eyebrows scrunched together. "Wasn't planning on it."
He shook his head and walked over to the mountain lion. Murphy nudged it with his boot and suggested bringing it back to camp. She didn't hear Bellamy's response as she joined the others in securing Jasper in the stretcher.
"We'll have to hurry," Clarke was saying when she approached. "It's going to be dark soon."
As her adrenaline wore off, Lou's legs trembled a bit when she knelt down beside Clarke and the unconscious Jasper. He was still breathing, but it was ragged and shallow, and his dark hair stuck to the clammy, pale skin of his face. A wound to the right of his heart had been covered with some sort of plant, and Lou's fingers hovered over it.
"Sharp spear," she noted. "Did it go all the way through?"
Clarke shook her head. "There's a large bruise on his back, but no exit wound. I'm guessing one of his ribs stopped it." She glanced up at Lou. "We won't know more until we get him back to the dropship."
"You're right." She gazed around the clearing, her eyes searching for anything unusual, but to her frustration, there was nothing.
"What is it?" Finn asked her.
Lou frowned. "If this truly was a trap to lure us here, where are they?"
"They could've sent that mountain lion instead," Wells pointed out before he caught the look on her face. "But you don't think so."
"Wells has a point," Clarke said, though she sounded loath to admit it. "They didn't know we had a gun. They probably thought it was enough to scare us off."
"Or kill us, too," Finn said, looking at Jasper's white face.
"We'll deal with it later," Clarke said firmly. "Come on; let's go."
But as they made their way back to camp, Jasper and the mountain lion carcass in tow, Lou could not shake the feeling that whoever was out there had just declared war.
Thanks for reading!