Fredozy
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Chapter 7:Hunt
🕑 Added 2025-10-05 08:46:28 +0000 UTCJason pulled his makeshift bag tighter, slipped the crude knife into his boot, and started down the hatch. Clarke caught sight of him, her brow furrowing. "Where are you going?" she asked, with a voice laced with concern.
Jason adjusted the strap across his shoulder. "Out. To find something proper to eat. I'm going hunting."
"Hunting?" Clarke stepped closer. "Jason, that's dangerous. You don't know what's out there." Finn, lounging against the wall nearby, lifted his head. "She's right. It's suicide."
Jason gave them both a look, part amused, part exasperated. "I'll be fine. Trust me. And while I'm out there, we need to think bigger. You all want to stay alive? Then you'd better be ready when the Grounders come knocking."
That made Wells frown. "What do you mean, 'get them ready'?" Jason's eyes darkened. He leaned against the hatch frame, his was low but steady. "We can't keep people alive if we have to worry whether they can even lift a weapon, Clarke, not when one of us can mistakenly cross over to their lane."
Finn straightened. "What are you talking about?" Jason's gaze flicked from Clarke to Finn. "Territory Clarke. For some reason, no one's attacked us yet. But the moment I crossed that river…"
Clarke's breath caught. "You were attacked."
Jason nodded grimly. "We landed off someone's territory, Clarke. Crossing that river? That was us nearly stepping into another. The Grounders will reclaim what's theirs, and they'll do it violently. You think the guards on the Ark were ruthless? The Grounders are worse and probably cold-blooded. I have a feeling we'll see what they're willing to do."
A silence hung heavy between them. Jason finally pushed off the hatch and adjusted his bag again. "I can defend myself. Better than most. But the rest of you? We need to make sure you can defend this place. If not, then you damn well better be able to run. When I come back, have a fire ready and more wood stacked. Organize people. We're on borrowed time."
Without waiting for an answer, he shoved past Clarke and disappeared into the forest.
The trees swallowed him whole, with the shadows curling long as he moved deeper into the wilderness. Alone, Jason let himself loose. His legs pumped like pistons while making sure his breathing was controlled, his body gliding between trees. He leapt over roots and boulders, his feet barely touching the ground before propelling him forward again.
"Goddamn," he muttered under his breath, exhilarated. "I feel like Ezio in Assassin's Creed right now." He laughed quietly until he froze. Something moved ahead in the clearing. Jason crouched low, slipping his bag off his shoulder with deliberate silence as he edged forward, boot after boot, until he saw it.
It was a deer and thankfully this one was neither mutated nor twisted. Just… a deer.
Jason grinned faintly. "Well, Bambi, today's not your lucky day." Knife in hand, he stalked forward. Each step was carefully, he made sure to let his weight roll onto the outer edges of his boots. The deer lifted its head, ears twitching slightly. Jason froze, heart hammering In his chest but breath calmly.
Slowly, the animal bent back down to graze.
Jason crept closer, inch by inch, until there was no more ground to cover. His muscles coiled like springs. Then he took that as his chance and he lunged.
The deer's head shot up, eyes wide but it was too late as the last thing it saw was the glint of Jason's knife before the blade sank deep.
Three Hours Later
The sun dipped low, painting the sky in streaks of orange and red, when Jason dragged the deer back through camp. Gasps and excited murmurs rippled through the crowd. Hunger lit their faces, but Jason ignored them, sitting heavily on a chunk of scrap metal.
He pulled the knife free from the carcass and shook his head with a dry laugh. "Guess all those nights grinding survival games and reading survival magazines with Marcus and Deshawn finally paid off. Hell, we knew way too much useless apocalypse shit."
Without hesitation, he set to work skinning and dressing the deer. Blood pooled underneath the deer's body, the smell was sharp in the air and a few kids gagged and turned away, stomachs heaving at the scent of blood. Jason didn't care. His hands moved quick and efficient like he'd done this a hundred times.
Clarke came over, eyes wide with surprise. "How did you even…?" Jason smirked. "Trade secret. Don't worry, Clarke. I promise I didn't ask the deer politely to keel over for me." She rolled her eyes, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "We found herbs. Wells got most of the good ones."
Jason caught the little bite in her tone when she said Wells' name. He sighed, swiping his bloody hand across his brow. "Figures."
Clarke passed him a bundle of herbs. "Wells said they need to be ground down." She rummaged for a flat stone, and Jason hacked strips off the flank, tossing them into a makeshift pot. He poured water in and sprinkled the herbs in, and set the pot over glowing coals.
"Monty, Jasper find a stick big enough to hang the rest of the deer. Wells, Finn come help me rig something to hold it up." It took nearly an hour hours, but finally the camp filled with the mouthwatering smell of meat roasting over the fire. Jason feeling a bit exhausted from all the looks, slumped down just as Bellamy and his enforcers swaggered over.
"Why don't you two take a break," Bellamy said, voice dripping arrogance. "We'll handle it from here."
Jason stared. 'Good God, the balls on this guy must be titanium and as big a dinosaur.'
Finn's jaw tightened. "You don't order us around, Bellamy. There's enough for everyone. This isn't the Ark."
Murphy smirked at that. "Yeah. Which is why we'll make sure it gets shared appropriately to those who deserve it." Jason stood, knife still in his hand. "Ok now in case you don't understand. The meat is my kill which means I decide what happens to it."
Bellamy's face hardened. "I'm done playing nice." He pulled a gun from his waistband, leveling it at Jason. Jason sighed. 'And there he goes again, waving his damn toy around.'
"You sure you want to do that?" Jason asked, casual as hell.
Bellamy sneered. "Yeah, I'm sure. You willing to die for this?" Jason's eyes flashed. "Well you see I think I'm willing to kill you, if that's what you mean."
Bellamy frowned right before Jason moved. In a blur, Jason grabbed his wrist, twisted, and yanked him down. Bellamy staggered, disoriented, as Jason tore the gun free, flipped it, and cracked him twice across the face with his elbow. Bellamy crumpled, bloodied and stunned on the floor.
Octavia screaming as she rushed forward.
"You didn't have to do that!" she cried.
Jason's voice was low and hard. "He just doesn't get it." His eyes burned as he looked down at Bellamy. "You can't beat me. And this little act? This shot at being leader? It's gonna kill us all because you're afraid."
Clarke and Octavia both stared at him, stunned at what he meant by that. Jason turned to the crowd. His chest heaved. For a long beat, he said nothing. Then: "Shit."
His tone shifted to something deadly and serious. "We can't keep living like this. Out there is a whole world of fucked-up waiting to eat us alive. If we don't change, if we don't get our shit together, we die. Simple as that."
He jabbed a finger at Bellamy. "And you—you're all going to change if you want to survive. I'll teach you how to survive. All of you. But understand this, we are not on the Ark anymore. We need solidarity. No more wasting time. Tomorrow, we build a wall around camp. We need to have a little Security at least. Then? We need hunting parties to get something to eat. Training because frankly you all are crude and don't know what the hell you are doing. Believe me there are hundreds of ways to die out there but it only takes one to put you down."
He swept his gaze across them. "Tonight, eat. Rest. But tomorrow, you will have to earn your food. And for the love of God stop ripping off your wristbands. The Ark isn't stupid. They know you're taking them off." A mutter rippled through the crowd. Then someone shouted
"You're just hiding behind that gun!"
Jason didn't even look. He rolled his eyes, calmly dismantled the gun piece by piece, tossed the bullets away, and chucked the scraps into the dirt.
He turned to the heckler and smiled coldly. "Now, you were saying?"
Silence. No one spoke. Jason spun back to Finn. "Meat's almost done. Fair portions. Save some for Bellamy and his crew."
Finn nodded, and the hungry crowd surged forward for their share. Jason slipped back onto the scrap metal, finally exhaling. His hands trembled. He stared at them.
'Holy shit. That went better than expected. At least for tonight.' He drew in a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.
