The six of them moved fast, following Murphy's shaky directions deep into the forest. They covered a huge gap at a steady pace, stopping only for short, controlled breaks. Every time they paused, Jason scanned the trees like a predator to make sure they hadn't stumbled upon a hunting ground of the grounders, then pushed them forward again.
Now, they were close. Jason crouched suddenly, raising a fist.
Everyone froze.
Up ahead, faint orange light flickered between the trees.
Torches.
David moved beside him to ask, "What is it?"
Jason's eyes narrowed. "We're close to their camp."
One of the two rifle-carrying teens, Evan shifted nervously. "So… why are we stopping here?"
Jason turned his head slowly, staring at him with the expression one reserves for a complete idiot.
"Oh, I don't know," he said dryly. "Maybe because Grounders love sitting in trees with bows ready to send an arrow through anyone and anything that twitches wrong. And shockingly enough, they actually look like they know what they're doing."
Evan swallowed hard.
Murphy pointed toward the tree line. "There's another entrance on the far side. But… it's more dangerous than the main one."
John raised an eyebrow. "And you know that how?"
Murphy licked his lips. "I saw it. When they were moving me around. The Grounders barely use it to go in or out."
Jason gave him a sideways glance. "Great. So we get to choose between 'dangerous' and 'more dangerous.' Wonderful."
Then he turned more fully toward Murphy.
"Where would they be holding Clarke and Finn?"
Murphy hesitated before pointing to two different locations in the camp's layout. The first one was a structure deeper inside, and another built against a cluster of rocks.
Jason didn't interrupt him and watched him instead. Every blink, every shift of the shoulders and every hint of tension in his jaw.
Looking for deceit.
After a long beat, Jason exhaled sharply.
"…This will probably end badly," he muttered under his breath.
Then louder: "Listen up."
Everyone straightened.
"We're splitting up. You two" he pointed to Evan and Ryan "you're with John and David."
He jabbed a finger toward the trees.
"You move low. Stay hunched. Watch the branches above you. Grounders love the damn high ground. And for the love of God, do not fire unless you're sure. That thing is too damn loud and any stray bullet will get one of us or the hostages killed."
The four nodded and slipped off into the dark.
"And you" Jason pointed to Murphy "Well you're coming with me."
Murphy frowned. "Why? Wouldn't it be better if we split halfway?"
Jason smirked.
"Oh sure. But it wouldn't be fair… to them."
Murphy didn't like the sound of that at all.
Jason moved immediately, gliding through the shadows as the others disappeared into their route.
Murphy jogged after him.
As they crouched behind a fallen log, Jason slid the short blade from his waist.
Without looking back, he murmured, "Are you going to pull yours out or not?"
Murphy stared at him for a second, then pulled a small boot-knife free.
Jason nodded slightly.
"There's a guard behind the tree to our left. Another one on the trunk dead ahead."
Murphy's eyes widened as he spotted the faint outline of a man only ten feet away.
Jason continued, calm as if giving cooking instructions.
"You're going to take the one on the left. Quietly. No screaming, no dropping him loud, no tripping like an idiot."
Murphy opened his mouth to protest, turned his head and when he looked back...
Jason was gone.
Murphy froze, pulse thundering, gripping his tiny knife too tightly.
"…Fuck," he whispered.
Murphy swallowed hard and crouched low, moving left exactly as Jason had whispered. He hugged the shadows, slowly circling toward the tree where the Grounder stood, bow slung across his back, attention fixed ahead.
Murphy tightened his grip on the tiny knife.
Just a few more steps.
He lifted the blade and at that exact moment, the Grounder turned to move right.
The knife plunged deep, but instead of the throat Murphy aimed for, it stabbed into the man's shoulder.
The Grounder jerked from the shock, eyes going wide as he locked onto Murphy.
"Oh—shit—"
Murphy didn't even finish the curse.
The Grounder swung a heavy fist directly into his jaw. Murphy's skull rang like a bell, his body stumbling sideways. The Grounder grabbed a fistful of Murphy's shirt, pulling him close with murderous intent.
But panic had Murphy's nerves burning white-hot.
He reacted before thinking.
Murphy twisted just enough to avoid the second punch, yanked the other small boot-knife free with his other hand, and stabbed down hard right into the Grounder's hand.
The man roared, and his grip loosened up.
Murphy didn't stop.
He scrambled forward, slashing wildly.
The blade cut deep across the Grounder's throat.
A spray of hot blood hit Murphy's face as the Grounder staggered back and collapsed directly on top of him, heavy and dead weight pinning him to the dirt.
Murphy gasped under the body, chest pumping, heart slamming against his ribs so hard he could hear it in his ears. His hands trembled uncontrollably.
For a long second, there was only his breathing.
Then, "Well… I have to say," a voice drawled lightly, "that was something."
Murphy shoved the corpse aside and sat up quickly.
Jason was leaning against a tree, bloody knife in hand, smirking like he'd just watched a mildly entertaining performance instead of a life-or-death struggle.
"You done having your moment?" Jason asked. "Good. Get up we have work to do."
With one hand, Jason effortlessly hauled the dead Grounder off Murphy, then grabbed Murphy's arm and yanked him to his feet.
"Where?" Jason asked.
Murphy pointed shakily toward the dark cluster of structures.
Jason nodded. "Alright. Let's mov—"
A crack tore through the air.
A gunshot.
Jason froze and Murphy's eyes went wide.
Another gunshot rang out, even closer.
Jason's head snapped toward Murphy.
"Shit we've been made… Run!"
They sprinted toward the building where Clarke and Finn were likely held. Branches whipped past them. Dirt tore beneath their boots as the shouts echoed behind them in grounder's language as the camp became chaotic.
A third gunshot cracked and something moved in front of them.
A Grounder rushed out of the shadows, raising his weapon.
Jason didn't hesitate.
He threw his knife and It buried itself in the Grounder's neck with a meaty thud. The man staggered, choking on his own blood and before he hit the ground, Jason was already beside him, ripping the blade free in one smooth motion.
Another whistle sang out and an arrow cut through the air toward Murphy.
Jason stepped in, his knife flashing upward, deflecting the arrow with a metallic clang.
"Move it!" Jason barked.
Murphy scrambled forward, breathing like he was going to vomit.
Jason glanced at the fallen Grounder, spotted a decent sword strapped to his back, and snatched it up without breaking stride. The weight felt good and balanced.
Just in time.
Because Grounders erupted from between the tents they ran past and Jason ran straight into them.
Steel flashed as he slashed forward without holding back and he felt the bones break under the force of his swing.
He cut through the first man's face, spun, slashed another across the chest, and stabbed a third in the gut so deep his scream died in his throat.
Then, a horn sounded.
Jason turned just as a sword sliced through the air where his neck should have been.
He ducked under it, grabbed the attacker's wrist, twisted until the bone snapped, stole the man's momentum, and hurled him into the dirt.
Arrows flew at Jason instantly.
He grabbed the wounded Grounder he'd just disarmed, dragging the man upright by the collar, using him as a human shield.
The Grounder screamed as arrows thudded into his back, punching straight through the armor.
Jason felt the vibrations through the man's body.
When the barrage ended, the body sagged.
Jason shoved him aside and grabbed Murphy by the back of his shirt.
"Move, Murphy. NOW!"
And the two of them sprinted deeper into the enemy camp, toward the building where Clarke and Finn were trapped with Grounders closing in from every direction.
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