Love to Hate [1]

But the strong will survive, another scar may bless you.

Song: The Greatest // Sia (feat. Kendrick Lamar)

Bellamy's POV

I stood over the remains of what used to be the smokehouse. Charred wood and meat littered the ground, smoke and the smell of burning flesh lingered in the air. I still had no idea how we were going to get enough food, and we were running out of time. 

Clarke walked up to me. "Any idea what happened?" she asked, looking in disgust at the blackened animal carcasses. 

"Murphy says that Dell kept feeding the fire, mainly because Octavia told him it was a bad idea," I responded. I was beyond exasperated. I was trying to save these kids' lives and they have to start petty arguments over the smallest things. 

"And we believe Murphy?" Clarke asked. I could hear the disbelief in her voice.

"I do, yeah," I answered firmly. 

Clarke sighed. "We have some wild onions and nuts in the drop ship," she explained. She shook her head. "It's only enough to last us maybe one or two weeks. What's left here?"

I stood up. "Nothing," I answered. "It all burned." I wanted to shout, to punch something. Anything to feel like I was doing something. 

"Then we have to hunt," Clarke said decisively. "Anyone we can spare goes out." She started to walk away. What the hell was she thinking?

I grabbed her arm. "With a whole Grounder army out there?" I asked her. 

She turned back to me. "Look, we can't defend ourselves if we're starving," she explained. 

I clenched my jaw but didn't answer. Damn it, she was right.

---

Nessa's POV

I couldn't believe it. I was actually outside of camp - correction, I had been told to go outside of camp by Bellamy himself. With the food gone and the Grounders god knows where, anyone who could be spared was put on hunting duty. Including a certain redhead who had a talent with a bow and arrow. A few people with guns had stayed behind to keep patrolling the wall while everyone else went out in groups of three or four. One person with a gun was assigned to each group. The guns were for Grounder use only, according to Bellamy's instructions. Bullets weren't to be wasted on food. I grabbed an arrow and touched the tip with my finger. It came away bloody. That's what these babies were for. I put the arrow back in my quiver and kept moving forward, following the three people in front of me. 

Clarke had initially asked me to go hunting with her, and then Finn had joined the group. Not wanting to feel like a complete and total third wheel I had almost jumped ship for another group when some random kid had asked if he could join us. His name was Miles. He seemed harmless enough. Talked wayyyy too much, though. And seemed too young to be carrying an automatic rifle. But, then again, weren't we all too young for any of this. 

Finn had been tracking some animal prints for about an hour, leading deeper and deeper into the forest. Every thirty seconds, like clockwork, Miles would ask yet another question. It was getting exhausting. The kid meant well, but he seemed a little starstruck by being in the presence of Clarke, and a little scared of being outside the camp for the first time. Not a great combination. Add his gun to the mix and this seemingly harmless kid didn't seem so harmless anymore. 

Finn crouched down again, finding another print. He inspected it a few seconds before moving on in a certain direction. 

"Is it one of those scaly panther things?" Miles asked. I almost groaned and smacked my forehead. He had asked that question every time Finn found a new print. 

"No, boar," Finn responded shortly.

"Good," Miles exhaled loudly. "'Cause that panther meat is nasty." I could hear the tremor in his voice, and see his hand shaking on his gun. This kid was terrified. "But I can eat a whole boar by myself, no joke," he added, trying to laugh. I almost felt bad for him. Almost. "You wanna know what the best part is? of the boar? It's gonna sound gross, but-" 

Clarke held a hand up. "Miles, quiet for a second," she said exasperatedly. She and Finn crouched over something on the ground. I walked over to peer over her shoulder. They were looking at more prints. But by the look on Finn's face I could tell something was wrong. 

"What is it?" Clarke asked him.

"These tracks-" he answered, trailing off. Clarke and I looked at them. They looked like regular animal prints to me. But clearly I was the only one who thought so.

"They're perfect," Clarke whispered, finishing Finn's thought.

Finn nodded. "Too perfect. We're the ones being hunted," he whispered gravely. I got a nauseating feeling in the pit of my stomach at his words. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. We needed to leave. Miles stood up and pointed his gun towards the trees ahead of us. Instinct told me to pull him down, out of sight. But I couldn't move.

"I don't see anything," Miles said. Then I heard a familiar twang from in the distance.

"Miles!" I shouted. Too late. The arrow came flying out of the trees and buried itself in his knee. Another one followed it, hitting his shoulder. He cried out and went down, coughing and gasping for air. I went to help him but Finn pulled me back, his eyes frantically searching the forest around us.

"Guys, come on. We gotta leave him," he said, getting up. We went to follow when a Grounder came out from behind a tree. He hit Clarke over the head with something, knocking her down. Finn turned when he heard her get hit. "Clarke!" he shouted. Another Grounder hit him from behind. They both then turned to me. 

I had already knocked an arrow. I wasn't going down without a fight. They walked slowly towards me. "Stay the hell away from me," I snarled, trying to sound braver than I felt. They (surprise) didn't listen, just kept slowly coming towards me. I had to do something, fast. 

"Nessa," I heard Clarke moan from the ground. "Run. Get back to camp and warn them." I nodded and backed away, still keeping the two Grounders in my sight. I couldn't outrun them. I just needed to give myself an advantage. I took a deep breath, steadied my hand, and loosed my arrow.

It buried itself in the one Grounder's thigh. He grunted in pain and went down to one knee. I knocked another arrow and let it fly, hitting him in the stomach. He went down on all fours, coughing up blood. Meanwhile the other Grounder let out a yell before charging at me, weapon raised high. I didn't have time to string another arrow. I pulled out my knife and crouched, ready to fight. As he swung at me I ducked, slashing his leg with my knife as I rolled forward. He let out a cry of pain and turned to charge at me again. He swung again and I ducked, but this time I wasn't so lucky. I didn't move quickly enough and he managed to land a glancing blow to my head. I felt dazed, blood was dripping into my eye. I had to end this soon. The Grounder charged at me again, knocking me down and pinning me to the ground. His hands went around my throat as my hands scrabbled along the ground, searching for my knife. I couldn't breathe, black spots were filling my vision. Finally I grabbed the hilt of my knife, closed my eyes, and slashed upwards blindly. I heard a gurgling noise and something hot spattered my face. The pressure around my neck vanished. I opened my eyes to find that I had, by some miracle, slashed the Grounder's throat. His blood was all over me. I pushed the body off of me and staggered to my feet. The other Grounder lay still, my two arrows sticking out of him. But Clarke and Finn were gone.