The looming structure of Mount Weather towered in the distance, its walls gray and impenetrable, promising food, medicine—safety. But between you and salvation was a wide, rushing river.

Clarke frowned at the chasm. “We’ll never make it across on foot.”

Monty scanned the trees, worry on his face. “Not unless we sprout wings.”

“Or,” Jasper said suddenly, eyes catching on a thick vine dangling from an overhanging branch, “we swing.”

Everyone turned toward him. He grinned nervously, gripping the vine in both hands. “What? Like Tarzan! Piece of cake.”

Your stomach sank. “Jasper, don’t—”

But he was already climbing up the rocks, determination in his step despite the tremor in his voice. Monty called after him, “Dude, you don’t have to prove anything!”

Jasper flashed a crooked grin down at you. “Hey—if this works, I’ll be a hero. And maybe even deserve a kiss from—” He cut himself off, cheeks flushing, but you knew what he meant.

Your heart hammered as he backed up, vine in hand. “Please be careful,” you whispered, voice catching.

And then he ran, leaping into the air. For one glorious, weightless second, he was flying—swinging across the gorge, hair whipping back, laughter spilling from his chest. The group erupted in cheers, even Clarke and Finn grinning.

“See?” Jasper whooped, about to land. “Told you I—”

Thunk!

The sound silenced everything.

A crossbow bolt tore through the air and buried itself deep in his chest. Jasper’s cry split the forest as his body crumpled mid-swing. He crashed hard into the ground on the other side of the river, rolling limp into the dirt.

“Jasper!” you screamed, your voice raw and strangled. The others shouted too, horror flashing across their faces, but your knees gave out. You dropped onto the earth, tears blurring your vision.

“No, no, no…” Your hands pressed over your mouth, shaking uncontrollably as your chest heaved with sobs. The world narrowed to the sight of his still body, the bolt protruding grotesquely.

Monty’s face went pale, his voice breaking. “He’s—he’s dead. He has to be—”

“No!” you snapped through your tears, clutching the dirt beneath your fingers. “Don’t say that! He can’t be—he can’t—”

Clarke’s hand touched your shoulder, grounding but powerless. Finn’s eyes scanned the treeline, panic rising. “Grounders. We’re not alone.”

But you couldn’t hear them anymore. All you saw was Jasper, the boy who made you laugh in the dark, who kissed you like you were the only safe thing in the world—now lying across the river, bleeding and still.

Your sobs echoed through the trees, your chest aching as if your heart had been ripped straight out. And in that moment, survival meant nothing. All you wanted was Jasper back.