The first thing she noticed was that there was no pain.
That was pretty strange, since she had just been shot like five times.
Am I dead?
Tris drifted in her subconsciousness, untethered by life's limits.
Am I dead?
Floating around, everything seemed peaceful. Tranquil.
Am I dead?
It sure seemed like it. Tris couldn't quite speak, and everything was black. Void. Empty of life. Whereas a few moments ago, all she saw was a blinding flash of light, fading away as it succumbed to darkness.
I am dead-or quickly dying.
Her memories were vanishing now. Who had shot her? She couldn't quite remember. Why? She didn't know. As each memory slipped past her grasp, she latched onto one special memory.
There was a man. She couldn't quite distinguish his features-in this memory, his face was blurred. What was his name? She didn't know. But he had an unusual nickname, didn't he? I was a number. But what was it? Eight? Two? Five? Four? Ah- that was it. Four. It sounded right, such a nice number. Maybe she could just let her thoughts settle for a moment, and remember.
On the abandoned Ferris Wheel
But I'm not really listening, because the height is dizzying. My hands ache from holding the rungs, and my legs are shaking, but I'm not sure why. It isn't the height that scares me—the height makes me feel alive with energy, every organ and vessel and muscle in my body singing at the same pitch.
Then I realize what it is. It's him. Something about him makes me feel like I am about to fall. Or turn to liquid. Or burst into flames.
My hand almost misses the next rung.
"Now tell me…," he says through a bursting breath, "what do you think learning strategy has to do with…bravery?"
The question reminds me that he is my instructor, and I am supposed to learn something from this. A cloud passes over the moon, and the light shifts across my hands.
"It…it prepares you to act," I say finally. "You learn strategy so you can use it." I hear him breathing behind me, loud and fast. "Are you alright, Four?"
"Are you human, Tris? Being up this high…" He gulps for air. "It doesn't scare you at all?"
I look over my shoulder at the ground. If I fall now, I will die. But I don't think I will fall.
A gust of air presses against my left side, throwing my body weight to the right. I gasp and cling to the rungs, my balance shifting. Four's cold hand clamps around one of my hips, one of his fingers finding a strip of bare skin just under the hem of my T-shirt. He squeezes, steadying me and pushing me gently to the left, restoring my balance.
Now I can't breathe. I pause, staring at my hands, my mouth dry. I feel the ghost of where his hand was, his fingers long and narrow.
"You okay?" he asks quietly.
"Yes," I say, my voice strained.
Tris almost laughed. That was the day that everything changed.
And then, for a brief moment, the man's real name resurfaced.
Tobias.
And dying, Tris smiled.