The meeting with Tom had been brief. People were watching the group, so Jasper was voted into leading a patrol to check things out. With his gun at his side and tire iron in hand, Jasper had halfheartedly agreed. His compliance was mostly made up of his own curiosity. It wasn't even a large group watching them, only two people it seemed like.
The danger of the situation couldn't be underminded though. Jasper had chosen a select few able-bodied people to accompany him—few of which he actually liked. Casimir, Samantha, Darren and Harley. It wasn't that Jasper didn't like Harley, he was an alright kid from what he could tell, though they weren't particularly close. He wasn't close to Sam either, definitely not friendly with Casimir. Darren was really the only person in the patrol he got along with.
Still, that didn't mean he wasn't respected. Jasper knew most everybody in the group had at least some sort of liking to him. Even if they weren't friendly, he was still considered some sort of leader. That in itself was cause enough, let alone the effort he put in to keep everybody safe.
Despite sleeping very well the previous night, Jasper was still tired. He definitely knew it probably wasn't a good idea to lead a patrol while his mind was occupied with other thoughts, but he couldn't help himself. He still longed to spend the day with Killian, laying in bed and holding his lover close against his body. His chest felt warm and fuzzy even just thinking about it.
The scars on Killian's back had been heartbreaking. It made him want to simultaneously cry and beat somebody's face in at the same time—specifically, the people who'd hurt him. He guessed Killian had a questionable past, but he'd never even imagined one close to what Killian had told him. Jasper wanted to hold on and never let go again, to shield Killian away from the dangerous world outside.
Jasper had his—very abundant—amount of casual hook ups and lovers in the past, but none could ever amount to just how special Killian was. There was no word he could even come up with to describe Killian, other than his name. He was grumpy, abrasive, a pain in the ass sometimes, had a major trigger finger with that crossbow of his, as well as hardheaded. But at the same time he was brave, passionate, ambitious, intelligent...so many things Jasper admired.
Jasper snapped out of his stupor as he felt a sharp jab in the ribs. Darren was giving him a pointed look, to which Jasper responded with a sheepish chuckle. A quick glance at the others showed that they thankfully hadn't noticed his daydreaming. "Come on, Romeo." Darren teased quietly. "When we're done here you can go back to your new boyfriend."
Clearing his throat Jasper replied, "Right," then forced himself to focus on the task at hand. It was nearing midday by the time the patrol had broke through the tall grass and onto the hostile stretch of land between the fields and the woods. At that point, Jasper hung back and let Casimir take the lead. He knew the hunter would do well tracking down their unwelcome intruders, better than he could himself.
With narrowed eyes, Casimir stared down the small path into the woods, cleared out by the strangers who'd been spying on them. The patrol pushed on, with Jasper narrowly avoiding getting his clothing snagged on some thorns. "I see some footprints but they're very faint." Casimir murmured out loud to himself. Jasper kept quiet, not wanting to interfere with whatever lead the hunter was onto. "If Tom would have let us come looking closer to sunset, then we'd have a clearer trail." Casimir continued to mutter under his breath.
The forest was peaceful, but it would always put Jasper on edge. Despite the sunspots dappled on the ground by filtered leaves, the shrubs lining roots of trees and the occasional shuffle of a squirrel in the undergrowth, something about its silence was eerie. How Killian and Casimir could possibly feel at home in a place where wind whistled through thorn bushes and rattled the branches above, he didn't know.
"Tom said we shouldn't go out closer to night time though," Harley said, his brows narrowing. "Not that anybody would want to after what happened with Wilson." He crossed his arms as he continued to walk, opinion clearly set in stone.
"Well, I'm not afraid of any biters." Samantha snorted. Her superior tone wasn't surprising to Jasper, only infuriating.
Beside him, Darren seemed to share his sentiment. "If you were there," His voice was cold velvet, "Then you'd have seen why. But I'd shut your mouth, before you start trying to dispute rules made from a situation you couldn't even imagine."
"If I were you all, I'd shut my mouth just so the tracker can focus." Casimir retorted sharply. After that, everybody in the patrol quieted down.
Rustling in the bushes caught Jasper's attention. Lifting his chin, his eyes darted anxiously through the trees and bushes surrounding them in the forest clearing. Darren stiffened beside him, gripping a knife in its sheathe at his side. Samantha clenched her hand around her bow, Casimir doing the same with his own. Harley retrieved his baseball bat from his shoulder, while Jasper's hand trailed down to the gun at his hip.
"You!" Oh no. A loud voice filled the empty clearing. Jasper was knocked to the side by a strange force before he could react. As he hit the ground winded, sharp claws dug into his skin; he could feel them rake down his arms, shredding through his flesh like paper. He bit his tongue to silence an agonized scream, grappling onto his attacker. The two rolled over one another, until the stranger pinned Jasper down. Sharp metal glinted in the sunlight as a hand raised. Jasper's arms burned like fire, the scarlet blood from his own wounds dripping down from the metal claws and onto his neck—where they were aimed to strike next.
An arrow flew at them, hitting his attacker in the shoulder. It hit its target, lodging painfully under their shoulder blade. With a pained grunt, they ripped the arrow out of their own flesh and tossed it aside, spraying blood across the dull soil. Jasper caught a glimpse of dark brown eyes, oddly familiar. "What are you doing in my territory?" That voice snarled. It sounded strange, gutteral, even. Jasper managed to shove them away just enough to scramble onto his feet. He felt dizzy. As he stumbled he could feel the blood soaking through his clothes and smell its iron-y tang—so potent he could almost taste it.
The stranger wore half of a mask over their face, stitched together from old fabric and scraps of metal. A snarl wrinkled at their nose as they took a step back—then a sickening smile that revealed bloodstained teeth. "Oh, that's smells delicious." The last word rolled off their tongue, almost like a purr.
Jasper stiffened. He recognized that voice now, those metal claws. "Jackson?" The pain in both of his arms was almost unbearable, vomit-enducing. His vision blurred even more until he managed to lean against a tree nearby. Darren immediately rushed over, slipping his jacket off and pressing it down firmly on the deep gashes on his shoulder, which was the main source of the profuse bleeding. "Son of a bitch," Jasper said shakily, gritting his teeth and glaring across the clearing towards Jackson.
The other man had changed drastically, it looked like. He was more gaunt, starving by the looks of things. There was a crazed glint in the eye Jasper could see, which made his smile even more eerie. The blood on his teeth wasn't from Jasper, so where had it come from? He must have been the one to loot Renier's metal claws from his corpse as well. An animal-like growl rumbled up from his chest. "You shouldn't be here."
"You shouldn't be spying on the group!" Casimir retorted. He took a hasty step back when Jackson swiped at him halfheartedly. The man was panting, uneven on his feet, exhausted. What's that mask all about? Jasper wondered silently.
When the bleeding began to ebb away gradually, Jasper stole a look at his arms. The left side wasn't as bad, but the right was lacerated with deep clawmarks down his biceps. Luckily, it had just missed the underside of his arm—if it had, Jasper would have bled out for sure. "Give me my gun." He rasped. Darren hesitated for a few seconds, so Jasper shoved him away and retrieved his gun from the holster at his hip.
Stalking over to Jackson, Jasper clicked a bullet into place and aimed between the other man's eyes. He saw red, anger beginning to get the better of him and cloud his judgement. Even Casimir took a small step back away from him. "Tell me what you're doing here before I blow your head off," Jasper spat.
"You crossed your border into my territory." Jackson snarled, gritting his teeth. His brow narrowed, hackles raised a bit. Jasper narrowed his eyes, unsure of what to respond with. What Jackson said was true, but his behavior seemed...off. He'd been so willing to outwardly attack him and yet here he was, cowering away when he no longer had some sort of obvious advantage. His mannerisms were almost animal-like. Territory? Since when do we have 'territory' now?
Refusing to budge, Jasper could feel his anger and outrage beginning to slip away a bit. Something was clearly wrong here, not just with Jackson attacking him. There was something more. He was afraid of something. "We ran into a group of motorcyclists during a raid," Jasper recounted carefully, "One had a note saying a gang in Swanston was taken care of. You've been driven out of the town, haven't you?"
With his eyes flickering back and forth, Jasper could now visibly see the paranoia on Jackson's face. His lips pulled back into a resentful snarl, "They killed my girlfriend and everybody else. Took over the town. Now let me go."
"If they took the town then why are you still hanging around here?" Jasper demanded. "Shouldn't you turn tail and run off to lord knows where?"
"No," Jackson spat, bristling. "This is my home. I'm not going to leave." It took Jasper a long time to fully process everything Jackson was saying. So, he'd had a girlfriend? Whoever had taken the town killed her and the rest of Renier's gang—as far as they knew. There was bound to be a few still hanging around. But Jackson still refused to leave.
Finally it dawned on Jasper, "You're not leaving because Killian's all you have left. That's why you've been spying on us."
"Not just that," Jackson snarled. "Not everybody is dead yet. They still got a few of my people," His voice shook, "They're gonna kill them soon if I don't get them out of there." Stubborn, just like his cousin. Jasper couldn't help but think. Before he could react, Jackson gripped onto Jasper's arm and dug those metal claws in again, twisting painfully. Once he got ahold of Jasper's gun, he tossed it away. "Leave me alone!" He hissed. Just as Jasper looked up, the metal claws slashed across his face.
"Jasper!" Darren gasped, immediately running over. Jasper could feel the blood on his face, trailing down and dripping between his lips. he could taste it; it was warm, sickening.
"Casimir, don't let that fucker get away." Jasper rasped, spitting blood on the ground. With Darren's help, he staggered onto his feet. Harley looked away, and Samantha refused to meet his eyes.
"I already got him, boss." Casimir muttered. He was pinning Jackson down, who was squirming beneath him, desperately trying to escape and clawing at the ground. Anger and resentment shielded Jasper from the pain of his injuries. It took him a few moments to see that Casimir had been clawed at too. His back was bleeding, but he didn't seem to care.
There was no doubt in his mind that Jackson was going to be dragged back to the farmhouse with him. There was no way Jasper was going to let him get away, not after this. Using his feet to pin down Jackson's wrists, he ripped the clawed gloves off of his hands, leaving him otherwise defenseless. Kicking them over in Darren's direction he spat, "Get these back to the house. Harley, Sam, run ahead and tell them we're bringing in a prisoner."