Survival Instinct // Namkook

chapter 13 - the ambush

As they emerged from the tunnel, Jungkook blinked against the harsh daylight filtering through the clouded sky. The broken city stretched out before them in jagged lines of crumbling concrete and twisted steel. Despite the desolation, he felt an immense sense of relief. Being outside again, away from the suffocating darkness of the tunnel, was a small victory in itself. He inhaled deeply, the cold air sharp against his lungs, but at least it was fresh.

Namjoon scanned their surroundings, his posture rigid and alert. “We can’t stay here long. Keep moving.”

Jungkook nodded, his muscles still tense from the hours underground. They began walking through the empty streets, stepping over debris and ducking under remnants of broken walls. The city was silent, except for the occasional gust of wind that whistled through the ruins. It was eerie, the way the world had been reduced to this—barely recognizable, void of life.

But neither of them noticed the shadow trailing behind.

They moved carefully, weaving through the ruined buildings. Jungkook’s mind raced, the events of the past hours still swirling in his head. Namjoon had saved him more than once now, but the elder still kept him at a distance, his stoic demeanor impenetrable. The pistol tucked at Namjoon’s waist hadn’t left his thoughts either. The man was a mystery, and while Jungkook was grateful for his protection, a part of him couldn’t shake the unease. What if things changed? What if Namjoon decided he wasn’t worth it?

Lost in thought, Jungkook didn’t hear the footsteps approaching from behind until it was too late.

A sudden pressure at the back of his head sent a shock of fear through his body. Cold metal pressed against his skull—a pistol. Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat, his heart leaping into a frantic rhythm. Before he could react, an arm went around his torso, a hand gripping his shoulder tightly, yanking him back.

“Don’t move,” a low, unfamiliar voice growled into his ear.

Jungkook’s blood ran cold. His muscles froze, instinctively locking in place as the barrel of the gun pressed harder against his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out the man’s face — a stranger, around their age, rough-looking with calculating eyes. He wore a torn jacket and carried the weary, hardened expression of someone who had been through hell in this broken world.

“Your supplies,” the man spat, his voice dripping with menace. “All of it. Now. Or I blow his brain out.”

Jungkook’s pulse thundered in his ears. Time seemed to slow as the weight of the situation settled in. The cold metal of the gun was unforgiving, pressing against his skin, and for a brief, terrifying moment, he thought he was done for. His mind raced, panic rising like a wave threatening to drown him.

Namjoon stood a few feet ahead, his expression unreadable, his gaze fixed on the man holding Jungkook hostage. The way Namjoon remained calm, his eyes calculating, sent a fresh wave of fear through Jungkook. For a second, a horrible thought crossed his mind—would Namjoon leave him behind? He knew Namjoon wasn’t sentimental, and their arrangement was purely survival.

But maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t worth the risk.

Jungkook’s breath hitched, fear lancing through him as he met Namjoon’s gaze, searching for any sign of what the elder might do. His throat tightened. “Namjoon…?” The word barely escaped his lips.

But Namjoon didn’t move. His eyes stayed locked on the stranger, a slow tension building in his frame, but he made no sudden moves. He didn’t look scared. In fact, he looked the same way he always did — calm, calculating, as if weighing every possible outcome in his mind.

“I said, now!” The man’s voice was harsher this time, pressing the pistol harder against Jungkook’s head. “Everything you’ve got, or I swear—”

Namjoon raised his hands slightly, a gesture of compliance. “Alright,” he said, his voice steady, his tone almost cold. He slowly reached into his bag, pulling out a few cans of food, some supplies, and laying them out on the ground.

Jungkook’s heart pounded, the pressure of the gun against his skull constant. His mind raced — why wasn’t Namjoon fighting back? The man was dangerous, but Namjoon wasn’t the type to let someone take advantage of him. Yet here he was, giving the stranger exactly what he wanted.

But then he saw it, that flicker in Namjoon’s eyes as he kept his gaze on the stranger—calculating, but something else too.

Fear wasn’t part of Namjoon’s equation, but caution was.

Jungkook’s fingers twitched at his sides, cold sweat forming on the back of his neck. His entire body was tense, waiting for something—anything—to happen. Namjoon took a slow step back, his hands still raised in surrender, showing the man he wasn’t going to resist.

The stranger chuckled, clearly pleased. “That’s right,” he said, keeping the gun firmly pressed to Jungkook’s head. “Nice and easy. Now the rest.”

Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, panic swirling in his chest. He could feel his legs trembling, but he forced himself to stay still, to breathe.

Namjoon remained still, his eyes cold but focused. “That’s all we’ve got,” he said flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The man narrowed his eyes, clearly not convinced. But after a tense moment, he seemed satisfied enough with what was in front of him. He backed up slightly but still held Jungkook tightly by the shoulder. “You’re lucky I don’t take more,” he muttered, though his grip didn’t loosen.

Jungkook’s pulse quickened. Namjoon didn’t seem to care about giving away supplies, but Jungkook couldn’t shake the fear gnawing at his gut. He had expected more of a fight, some kind of plan to get out of this, but Namjoon just stood there, waiting. And it unsettled him.

He couldn’t help but wonder what was really going through Namjoon’s mind—if there was something deeper behind those cold, calculating eyes. He had expected to be thrown away as soon as things got tough, but instead, Namjoon had handed over their supplies without a second thought. It didn’t make sense.

Finally, the stranger seemed to feel like he’d won. With a low grunt, he shoved Jungkook forward, causing him to stumble as the barrel of the gun lifted from his head. The man quickly scooped up the supplies Namjoon had laid out, keeping his weapon trained on them both as he backed away.

“Better hope we don’t run into each other again,” the man sneered before turning and slipping into the shadows of the ruined city.

Jungkook stood frozen for a moment, the shock of what just happened slowly wearing off. His heart still raced, but the immediate danger had passed. Namjoon stepped forward, his expression as unreadable as ever.

“You okay?” Namjoon asked, his tone softer than usual, like he actually cared.

Jungkook nodded, even though his legs felt weak beneath him. “Yeah,” he breathed, still trying to process everything.

Namjoon’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before he turned, surveying the area. “We need to keep moving,” he said simply. “We’re exposed here.”

Jungkook followed silently, but his mind raced. The encounter had left him rattled, not just because of the near-death experience, but because of how easily Namjoon had handed everything over without question.

And the fact that Namjoon had saved him.
Despite the cold exterior, Namjoon hadn’t let anything happen to him. He did value their agreement afterall.