Chapter 14 — Second Chance

Tris POV

The cell smells of blood and wet stone. It's deep in the ground, at the very bottom of the Dauntless compound where it is cold and dreary. The single flickering torch is the only thing that keeps me from sitting in total darkness. There's a cot in one corner and a pot in the other. That is all they think I deserve.

As a Dauntless initiate, I was expected to know their history and I did. I knew everything from our mandates to the history of the compound. And now I wish that I had not learned my lessons so well. Our current headquarters is built over an old part of the city—a graveyard for the wealthy. These cells were once tombs, but some resourceful leader cleared out the bodies.

I close my eyes only to open them again when a loud clanging interrupts the silence. I remain flat on my back as footsteps echo in the corridor. It occurs to me that I should be on my feet and ready to fight, but I can't seem to summon the energy.

"What a tragedy, the great Tris Prior locked away like a common criminal. Oh, how you have fallen." I grit my teeth. She is the one person I never want to see. But perhaps that's a lie, that list is quite lengthy now.

"Jeanine Matthews." I say stiffly.

"I'm not alone." Amusement seeps into her voice. "I thought I would give you a gift. A family reunion is quite special, is it not?" She knows I will react, and I don't disappoint.

"Caleb?" He ducks his head, and I'm reminded of the brother that I used to have—the one who loved me. But the bashful boy is gone and Jeanine's lackey stares at me.

"Hello Beatrice." He pronounces my name with too many inflections and it grates on my already frayed nerves. He smiles, and I like to pretend that's it's not just my imagination that he looks a bit sad. He knows what will happen to me—will he mourn me when I'm gone?

"Leave us." Jeanine commands her guards—two black clothed men who I hadn't noticed until now. This is what Dauntless has come to. We serve the Erudite. They obey, but cast me a worried look. I choke back a laugh; I suppose my name is well-known now. They look like they think I will develop magical powers that will help me escape this cell. I only wish I did.

I sit on my cot and stare steadily at the wall. Jeanine drops the cell's keys on the floor. They are within my reach. Then, she pulls a gun out of her pocket. Her taunting smile is saying choose. She wants me to beg, she wants me fall on my knees and scramble for freedom. But I will not give her that satisfaction, so I remain sitting, staring at the wall.

Perhaps I am wasting an opportunity, but I like to think that this is a type of bravery too. I am accepting that I am going to die soon, and instead of fighting desperately and looking weak, I will die. And I will die proudly. That's a type of bravery, isn't it?

"What will it be, Miss Prior? My reflexes aren't Dauntless, but I can still shoot." My eyes flick over to Caleb. He's staring at me, desperation in his eyes. I know what he wants, but I don't care. Jeanine's voice is smooth and sickly sweet, "Make your choice."

I'm suddenly struck with a hate so vicious that it burns through me like fire. I hate her. I hate her for taking my brother, for treating me like I'm nothing. What gives her the right to decide how I will spend my final days?

Caleb seems to realize this too because he suddenly points down the corridor. "Look! What's that?" He says as he slaps the gun out of her hand. It lands with a clatter in my cell. I want to laugh that the intelligent leader of the Erudite falls for such a simple trick.

I dive, and all thoughts of a dignified death fly out of my head. The keys tremble in my hands as I unlock the door. Jeanine grabs at my clothing, but I yank out of her grasp and fire blindly behind me. She shrieks in pain.

"Tris, wait." I spin around. Caleb stands with his hands stretched towards me. Jeanine is on the ground behind him. "I'm not Dauntless. You know what they'll do to me if they learn I helped you."

I suck in a breath. His eyes flick to the barrel of the gun, and then back to me. "Tell Susan I'm sorry." My brother says.

I shake my head; Susan doesn't deserve that. "Tell her yourself." I whisper. I shoot to injure, not to kill.

And I don't look back.

Tobias POV

My mother meets me at the door after my ride. "There are people here to see you." She says and then adds, "in black clothes."

I exhale irritably. I told her that I didn't want to see her again. It's too painful for both of us. It tears me apart—I want to touch her, but I also want to push her away. I can never forget her lies.

But it's not Tris in the sitting room—it's her friends. I recognize Christina and Susan (I drop the formalities, they were just lies) and two boys who seem unnervingly familiar. They lounge on the antique furniture with the arrogant ease that I've come to associate with the Dauntless, but they can't hide the worry on their faces.

"Good day, Christina and Susan." I say curtly. "I hope you have a valid reason for your visit.

The lanky boy snorts. "You could say that." He mutters.

I glare at him. "I apologize for my memory, but have we met before?"

He smirks and the other boy laughs. "In Millennium Park. I'm Will and this is Al." A memory of Tris fighting off ruffians trying to steal her reticule comes to mind and I dismiss it. It was just another lie that she orchestrated with her friends.

"That's not why we're here." Christina says anxiously. "Tris is in trouble."

"That's not my concern." I try to act cold, but my heart contracts at the thought of Tris.

I don't register her slap until my cheek stings. "Stop acting like an ass!" Christina snarls. "Do you know why she's in trouble? Because she refused to betray you. And now it's your fault that she's going to be executed!"

I drop into the nearest chair. "Executed?" I ask weakly.

She nods, "Dauntless style, but that's not important. We need you help."

"She betrayed me!"

Christina slaps me again. "Can't you get it through your thick head? Tris was trying to save you and now she's paying with her life."

"How many other men has she betrayed?" I demand, "four? Five? Ten? Twenty?"

Susan laughs shortly. "Don't be absurd." She snaps, speaking for the first time. "All of us can't remember how many people we've betrayed."

Can't remember or don't care?" I ask scathingly.

"Can't remember." Her eyes are calm, but her expression is melancholy. "We are only pawns to the leaders of the Dauntless. But we are valuable pawns. We know things about our victims and that makes us dangerous, so Max began to work with the Erudite's leader, Jeanine, to create a serum that erases our memories of the victims."

"You don't remember any of your past victims?" Susan shakes her head. "So if Tris had succeeded in her mission, they would have erased her memories of me?"

"Yes." Al says shortly. He glares at me, but I don't wonder, or care, why he hates me—I hate me too.

"There's a chance that they will just reprogram Tris and send her to another heist society." Will murmurs thoughtfully.

"I doubt it." Christina hugs herself. "Tris is good, but she's dangerous because she has a habit of going rogue."

"Rogue? You mean she's done this before?"

"Yes, this is her second chance. Not that she remembers that." Christina sighs bitterly.

"How do you remember it, if you're so close to her?"

"They can't reprogram every person that's been in contact with a Rogue. But the penalty is death if we reveal the past."

"Seems unnecessarily cruel." I say. Tris is going to die, and it's only at her impending death that I realize how stupid I've been. I'm still angry—who wouldn't be? She was the first person that I truly trusted. You barely knew her. Something says inside of me. I look up at the ceiling and think of my girl.

The thought stops me short. Did I just call one of the Dauntless mine?

"'Those who don't know history are doomed to repeat it.' Who wants that?"

Christina's lips twist, and I realize that it's stupid to ask. "The Dauntless."

AN: Thank you for all the reviews/favourites/follows! I apologize for the late update—I'm almost done school, and then I'll be able to update more frequently.

Over and out,

Wren