Jason Lee Scott (Altered)'s Arc

Chapter 6 of 11

Jason spread the map across the depot floor and traced the marked safe zones with his finger. Four of them clustered in the western sectors, each one labeled with supply counts and estimated capacity. The fifth sat alone near the old industrial corridor, marked with a double circle that meant priority. He reached it on foot two hours before sunset. The safe zone had been carved out of what looked like an old military outpost — concrete barriers still standing, a building with a faded mess hall sign over the door. Shelters made from patchwork canvas and scrap metal dotted the perimeter, maybe a dozen of them. Smoke rose from a fire pit in the center. People moved between the structures, carrying water and supplies. They'd built something here. Something that worked. Jason stayed at the edge, watching. A woman spotted him and froze. She called out to the others and three men appeared from the mess hall, hands on weapons they kept low but ready. Jason raised his empty hands and stepped into view. The woman's expression shifted when she saw his face — recognition followed by fear. One of the men moved forward and pointed at him. "That's one of Drakkon's." Jason didn't lower his hands. He'd expected this. The man waited for him to defend himself or run, but Jason just stood there and let them see him clearly. The woman stepped between them and studied his face for a long moment. Then she looked at his hands, still raised, and at the map rolled under his arm. She glanced back at the shelters behind her, then at Jason again. "You came alone?" He nodded. She didn't move. "Why?" Jason pulled the map free slowly and held it out. "Because someone left this for people who needed it." The woman took it, unrolled it enough to see the safe zones marked in careful detail, and something in her posture changed. She looked at him differently — not with trust, but without the certainty he was a threat. "You can stay until morning," she said. "After that, we decide." Jason lowered his hands. It wasn't forgiveness, but it was a chance to prove redemption wasn't just a word he told himself in the dark.