"You are damaged and broken and unhinged.
But so are the shooting stars and the comets."
( the 100 ) ( season 1 ) ( book 1 of the hazel hudson series )
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HE LEFT WITHOUT HER.
Murphy had eagerly relayed the news that Bellamy and a few others had already gone out to hunt with a superfluous grin. He watched in anticipation as a dark anger passed over Hazel's face.
"Are you serious?"
"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, he didn't let me go with either," Murphy shrugged, casting his eyes downwards towards the muddy ground. "But, then again, he did leave me in charge so..."
"Shut up, Murphy."
Hazel took off towards the drop-ship, her long stride quick and aberrant. She was ticked off, that's for sure. And scared, mostly for Trina and Pascal. She didn't know either of them well, but she felt an urgency to find them. All she wanted was to save someone. Her conscience would eat her alive if she didn't.
If Bellamy hadn't left without her, maybe, she could've found the missing couple. She gritted her teeth together in anger, trying to keep a calm facade.
Once inside the broken shell of the ship, scared shouting coming from the second level tugged at Hazel's attention. She grasped onto the ladder and tripped up it, nearly falling and whacking her chin off one of the rusted bars. As soon as she pushed through the hatch she was met with the sickening stench of infection, causing her to gag as she entered the room.
There was a handful of teens surrounding Jasper, each of them holding on to one of his seizing limbs. Wells' hands were clasped over the dying boy's fidgeting ankles, while Finn and Octavia managed to pin down his wrists. Jasper himself was thrashing and screaming, the sounds escaping his throat a terrifying mania.
Clarke was stationed just overtop of his chest, gripping onto jagged knife.
"What the hell! Are you trying to kill him?"
Hazel dashed over, falling to her knees and grabbing the blonde's hand before the metal could make contact with with Jasper's rotting flesh.
"I'm trying to save him, and to do that I have to cut out the infection," Clarke countered, then paused before asking, "can I have my hand back?"
The way she spoke, tight and controlled, was so contrary to the madness taking over the rest of the camp. Hazel hesitated, staring curiously into Clarke's eyes, trying to figure out why exactly she trusted this auricomous girl. She was a product of the Council, after all. But she was different.
With a slight nod, Hazel let go of Clarke's trembling hand. The group watched in a stunned silence as her blade travelled downwards, pausing just before it touched the yellowing wound.
