Hi! Late again, a bit, I know...sorry! I had a major exam on the 21st. But with me writing this and Puzzle Pieces alternately, I'm not sure if I can keep up with the one week schedule though. I'll try my best, anyway.
I don't know about you guys, but I'm melting away in here in India, with a real feel of 50°C...ugh! Anyhow, thanks to every one of my readers for all the support. You are incredible!
I stumble ahead, my hands pulled to my back, gripped by a Dauntless soldier while two others march on either side of me. My gun wound stings and burns; my arms ache and I gradually lose feeling of them from having them stuck at an awkward angle. The barrel of a gun presses uncomfortably against my back. My ponytail has come loose, obscuring part of my vision, but up ahead, I can see the sea of black parting before me. I don't hear Eric near us; he must have retreated to tend to his wound. Savagely, I hope that the bullet sank deep enough into his flesh, even as part of me berates me for not hitting him at a more vital body part, enough to do him permanent damage, or even kill him.
The ruthlessness of my thoughts surprises me. Perhaps through all these trials, something black and ugly grew inside me, painting a permanent streak of cruelty in me. I wouldn't know the small gray-clad girl which I once had been if I saw her anymore.
The gun barrel pressed against my spine pushes me toward a door guarded by two Dauntless soldiers. I am marched through it and into a plain office that contains just a desk, a computer, and two empty chairs. Jeanine sits behind the desk, a phone against her ear.
"Yes, I know it's not working," she snaps, her facial expression one of the most animated I've seen on her. "But there is enough time — Yes, yes, it needs to be well guarded, it's the most important part — and especially after what happened — make sure there's someone in there at all times — Well, send some of them back on the train, then." She lets out a long, frustrated breath. "I'm not talk —" Her eyes fall on me. "I have to go." She snaps her phone shut and focuses on me. I am not scared of her, but her gray eyes, cold and piercing, like melted steel, pin me in place.
"Divergent rebel," one of the guards holding me says. He must be a leader or a recruit pulled out of simulation. "And faction traitor."
Jeanine nods, her steel gray eyes never once leaving me.
"Beatrice Prior," she says quietly. "I should have known. Or do you go by Tris, now?"
I don't say anything, staring right back at her. My fingers twitch to grab my gun and fire a bullet into her head.
"You almost fooled me in the aptitude tests," she continues. "Your results were Dauntless, after all. Although, your simulation was different from the rest. You picked up the knife but refused to use it. Why is that?"
"My decisions," I say through gritted teeth, "are none of your business."
She doesn't look perturbed. Her eyes only search my face, as if trying to find the solution to a complex problem.
"It is, actually. You see, Beatrice, the aptitude test is one of my greatest scientific achievements. Your results were... curious. Your presence here today proves your Divergence. But my theory is that you may have aptitude for more than two factions. Dauntless, Abnegation... but maybe, just maybe, you might also belong to Erudite."
It's terrifying how she has conjectured the truth. But I don't let any expression show on my face.
"But what interests me more is how you got wind of today's attack. Who told you? And more importantly," she leans forward, pressing her long-fingered hands together, "what did you do? Why do none of the gunshots penetrate the doors? Why are there no Abnegation members on the road on a working day?"
"You are the genius," I say scornfully. "Shouldn't you be able to figure it out?"
"I suspect help, outside help," she says. "A small Abnegation girl can't be capable of so much. Someone from outside Dauntless. Why don't you tell me who your allies are, Beatrice?"
I bristle with anger and fear. Jeanine is clever, too clever.
"I —"
Suddenly, Jeanine's phone rings again. She picks it up and presses it against her ear.
"Yes?" she barks into the phone. Then her expression smoothens from annoyance to interest. "Yes, that's good. Bring him to me. The Abnegation headquarters. Okay, fine." She snaps the phone shut again.
"Perhaps we should wait a little until we put you to your fate," Jeanine says to me, her expression, one of strange satisfaction, terrifying me more than anything else could. "There is someone you would probably want to meet."
Silence falls between us as I stand and she sits, and I wonder if I can break the hold of the guards and hold out long enough to manage to escape. But even as I do so, I know the situation is hopeless; there are too many soldiers, and I am too small and weak to break past them. The streets are crawling with simulation-driven soldiers. Even if by some miracle, I manage to get out, there is no way I would survive. I wish Jeanine would just send me to my death already. At least I would die knowing I saved my family and old faction.
"So are you going to tell who provided you with the technology that's been the saving grace of Abnegation?" Jeanine asks me, only a mild tone of interest in her voice, as if she were asking me a tough question in class.
"I am going to tell you nothing," I growl.
"I can guess that the technology is Erudite," Jeanine muses. "No other faction has the wits to come up with something so incredible." She smiles at me, slowly, dangerously. "It would appear that it's not only Dauntless that has a faction traitor."
Without warning, the door of the building bursts open, and I swivel so fast in the grip of my captors that I crick my neck. Three more Dauntless soldiers enter, and between two of them, struggling but to no avail, is Tobias. I freeze.
He looks bruised and beaten up, with a split lip and a cut on his forehead, and multiple bruises lining his jaw. But the fire in his eyes is still intact, and greater than ever. He looks up to throw a venomous glare in Jeanine's direction. And then his gaze slides over to me, and he stops short. His eyes widen and his lips part in horror.
"Tris," he breathes. He never looks away from me, his stare intense and stern and disbelieving, as if he is hoping for me to disappear any moment.
"Tobias," Jeanine says, her eyes now locked on Tobias. She stands up, her blue knee-length dress hugging her figure. "Or should I say — Four? You were a surprise. I had suspected her to some level," her eyes shift momentarily to me, "but you, you managed to elude me completely. Everything about you checked out: test results, initiation simulations, everything. But here you are nonetheless." Her eyes pin him with the same intensity as they had me a few minutes ago. "And not just anywhere, you were in the Dauntless control room," she says quietly. "You nearly managed to shut down the simulation. My hard work of months."
"Ouch. That must really hurt," Tobias spits out, "What a pity it wasn't destroyed a few minutes earlier."
"I would ask you how that is, but perhaps the answer lies with her?" She points a leisurely finger towards me. "Partners in crime, or should I say, criminal lovers?"
Tobias glares at her, and struggles against the powerful hands holding him. "Let me go, you —"
"Let go of them," Jeanine commands quietly.
The guards release Tobias, even as the hands gripping me loosen from my arm, flaring a fresh wave of pain in my shot arm. Tobias moves quickly, his movements fast and powerful, and at first I think he is about to go for Jeanine, but in no time at all, he is right in front of me. He wraps his arms around me, his hand pressing against my wound, causing me to hiss in pain. He pulls back immediately.
"You got shot," he whispers, horrified.
"It's only superficial," I murmur. "The bullet just grazed the arm." I lean into him, tentatively embracing him. He winces a little, but doesn't appear to be in too much discomfort at my touch.
"What happened?" I breathe against his chest, so quietly that only he can hear.
"Peter," he whispers, burying his face in my neck in a pretense of affection. It's not really a pretense, actually, as he breathes deeply against my skin, but it performs the dual purpose of us relishing the feeling of each other and holding a conversation without Jeanine noticing. "He must have spotted me — he called the reinforcements. It was my fault, really... I was so absorbed in breaking the security barrier, I dropped my guard. I was outnumbered six to one."
Anger erupts in my chest; Peter, that traitorous bastard!
"You weren't supposed to get caught," he whispers against my skin.
"It wasn't my intention, trust me," I speak while kissing his hair. "I had to save —"
A pointed cough causes us to break apart.
"While your display of affection is highly... endearing," Jeanine says, although she looks like she has swallowed something sour, "I am afraid we do not have all day for this."
"Of course," Tobias says bitterly, an arm wrapped lightly around my waist, "You are an extremely busy person. By all means, get to the act of killing us. You need to figure out how to murder a lot of Abnegation leaders, after all."
Jeanine's brow puckers, annoyed at the jab at her failing plan. Her tone, when she speaks, however, is forcefully light.
"Don't be silly. That is not how I meant it. There is no rush," she says. "I wasn't expecting this interference, but now that you are here, you will both serve an extremely important purpose. You see, it perplexed me that the Divergent were immune to the serum that I developed, so I have been working to remedy that. I thought I might have, with the last batch, but as you know, I was wrong. Luckily I have another batch to test."
Tobias' hand tightens his grip on my waist. I wonder if he is thinking of attempting an escape like I was. Speaking for myself, at Jeanine's words, I feel profound relief, which in itself is so wrong; but it at least means that we can follow our second plan.
"Why bother?" Tobias asks.
"I have had a question since I began the Dauntless project, and it is this." Jeanine sidesteps her desk, skimming the surface with her finger. "Why are most of the Divergent weak-willed, God-fearing nobodies from Abnegation, of all factions?"
"Weak-willed," Tobias scoffs. "It requires a strong will to manipulate a simulation, last time I checked. Weak-willed is mind-controlling an army because it's too hard for you to train one yourself."
"I am not a fool," says Jeanine. "A faction of intellectuals is no army. We are tired of being dominated by a bunch of self-righteous idiots who reject wealth and advancement, but we couldn't do this on our own. And your Dauntless leaders were all too happy to oblige me if I guaranteed them a place in our new, improved government."
"Improved," Tobias says, snorting.
"Yes, improved," Jeanine says. "Improved, and working toward a world in which people will live in wealth, comfort, and prosperity."
"At whose expense?" I can't stop myself from adding scornfully. "Draining and destroying the factionless and any other faction which opposes your scheme!"
"Ah, my dear, but you think in a biased way," Jeanine replies. "Currently, the factionless are a drain on our resources, as is Abnegation. I am sure that once the remains of your old faction are absorbed into the Dauntless army, Candor will cooperate and we will finally be able to get on with things."
"Except it's not working," Tobias says viciously, and with a touch of triumph in his voice. "You can't touch them. You can't wipe them off." His voice rises with each word. "And make no mistake. You will be dead before the day is out, you—"
"You should not underestimate us," Jeanine says, her words cutting cleanly across Tobias', her eyes flashing. "You have no idea of what I can do. And for your sake, perhaps if you could control your temper, you would not be in this situation to begin with, Tobias."
"I'm in this situation by my own choice," Tobias snaps. "I am here because you put me here, the second you orchestrated an attack against innocent people."
"Innocent people." Jeanine laughs. "I find that a little funny, coming from you. I would expect Marcus's son to understand that not all those people are innocent. Can you tell me honestly that you are happy to have your father hiding away in his home, to know that he is safe and sound to live another day, all because of this girlfriend of yours?"
"No," says Tobias through gritted teeth. "But he is there because I wanted it to be so. At least his evil didn't involve the widespread manipulation of an entire faction and a scheme for the systematic murder of every political leader we have."
They stare at each other for a long moment. I wish she'd just get on and be done with it.
"What I really want to know, is how you managed to get them to lock the doors. How to open them?" Jeanine asks, her voice quiet.
"As if we'll be telling you," I scoff.
"I'm afraid you won't have much choice in the matter," Jeanine says. "What will you do, Beatrice, if Tobias here were to turn against you?"
Her words are terrifying in their coldness. It is enough to strike fear in my heart, but I remain steady. Her plan is perfect. It would work in her favor, except that Tobias is immune to her serum.
"The observation that the Divergent are immune to the usual form of simulation forced me to reassess my own assumptions. I cannot control your will. But there are a few things I can control." She turns and faces us, her face containing only professional interest. A scientist solving a problem. "I can control what you see and hear," she says. "So I created a new serum that will adjust your surroundings to manipulate your will. Those who refuse to accept our leadership must be closely monitored. You will be the first test subject, Tobias. And then we will see how long Beatrice can keep her mouth shut."
Her words, so similar to those which I have heard in my previous life, send a chill down my spine. Our plan is working accordingly, only I wasn't supposed to be here; our secret wasn't supposed to be at stake. Whatever happens, I must be strong, for the sake of Cara and Fernando's safety.
I look at Tobias, nodding almost imperceptibly. It's time to start acting.
"No," says Tobias. His voice trembles, but his look is stern as he shakes his head. The situation is so tight and so dangerous, I doubt he has to do much pretending. "I would rather die."
"Unfortunately, you don't have much of a choice in the matter," replies Jeanine lightly.
Tobias takes my face in his hands roughly and kisses me, the pressure of his lips pushing mine apart. The repetition of the first time sends an unexpected stab of fear in my heart; without even knowing it, Tobias is acting exactly he had in my previous life.
As he pulls away, Tobias whispers, almost inaudibly, "Run."
With no more warning than the tightening of his muscles, Tobias lunges across the desk and wraps his hands around Jeanine's throat. The Dauntless guards by the door leap at him, their guns held ready, and I scream. What is he doing? But then I realize — he wants me to escape. He is creating a distraction for me to run. Except I can't do that. Not only are my choices of survival feeble if I run outside just like that, I can't leave Tobias, not now, not again. At least not until he is sent to the control room.
It takes two Dauntless soldiers to pull Tobias away from Jeanine and shove him to the ground. One of the soldiers pins him, his knees on Tobias's shoulders and his hands on Tobias's head, pressing his face to the carpet. I struggle feebly against the grip of the guard who held me when I reflexively jumped to his defense. I hate to see him like this, but I can't afford to jeopardize our plan. It's the only one we have left. I need to see him injected, and I need to see him unaffected. I will accept my fate, whatever it is, thereafter.
Even in his vulnerable position, Tobias' strength is incredible. He pushes his face upward, resisting the guard's grip, and painfully turns his head to look at me. His eyes are hard and angry, his expression entreating. Silently, I shake my head at him, hoping to convey my decision to him even as my heart constricts painfully in my chest at the way he is suffering. I won't leave him.
Jeanine braces herself against the desk, spluttering and gasping. She rubs her throat, which is bright red with Tobias's fingerprints. There are tears in her eyes as she takes a box from her desk drawer and opens it, revealing a needle and syringe.
I watch as the soldier rams the heel of his gun against Tobias' head; I watch as the needle plunges into his neck. I feel every shot of pain he feels; my heart beats in my throat as I wait for him to come around. Please let it work. Please. Please. I have stopped breathing.
"Let him up," says Jeanine, her voice scratchy.
The guard gets up, and so does Tobias. His eyes are awake and alert, although a bit confused. It doesn't tell me anything.
"Tobias! Tobias!" I call, playing my part. I don't have to pretend at all.
"He doesn't know you," says Jeanine.
Tobias looks over his shoulder at me. For a small second, he hesitates. And that tells me. Relief swamps me from head to toe. Tobias is okay.
He looks at me, and his eyes narrow. Then, with a frighteningly accurate repetition of my first time, he strides over to me and closes his hands around my throat.
Except his grip is gentle, harmless.
I stomp over his foot. He needs to work harder, to make it look convincing.
Come on!
His grip tightens, but it still is not enough. Tobias cares for me too much; he will never hurt me willingly. As much as the fact touches me, this isn't what we need right now. I wrap my fingers around those of his, looking as if I am trying to free myself, but instead, I press his hold harder. The combined force of our fingers dig against my trachea. I choke, blood slowly accumulating on my face. Tobias' eyes widen in horror and he tries to pull away, but I restrain him with my own grip.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Jeanine stop the rushing guards with a wave of her hand.
"Do you agree to tell me the truth?" she asks coldly.
"N-no!" I gasp, never once looking away from Tobias' eyes. The deep blue orbs are full of emotions, clashing and swirling like a hurricane — pain, grief, horror, shame, fear, apology, so many. Looking at him, I can't stop the tears from pooling in my eyes and spilling over, knowing the pain I am forcing him to go through.
I don't know how long I can endure. But I also can't let him let go of me. Breathing has become a losing battle.
One of the guards pulls Tobias off me. I gasp, drawing a rattling breath into my lungs, and stumble back to support myself.
"The simulation manipulates him," says Jeanine. I can barely hear her over the pounding in my ears. "By altering what he sees — making him confuse enemy with friend."
I look at Tobias, my vision damaged by dark spots dancing in front of me. Two guards restrain him, and he acts like he is struggling to get to me ferociously, but I can see the apology in his eyes, and the pain. Even as I watch, his left eye sparkles with moisture, which runs slowly down in a lone trail down his cheek. It makes my own eyes water again.
Be brave, I mouth to him, just like he had told me many times before, to give me strength. But he is; he is braver and stronger than I can ever ask anyone to be, following protocol even when it hurts him so much. Pride washes me from top to toe once again as I marvel the strength of this man, this impossible, incredible man who is mine. I know I will never find anyone even remotely like him, even if I tried.
Jeanine, drunk on her apparent success, does not notice our silent exchange.
"The advantage to this version of the simulation," she says, her eyes alight, "is that he can act independently, and is therefore far more effective than a mindless soldier." She looks at the guards who hold Tobias back. He is still struggling against them, eyes on me. "Send him to the control room. We'll want a sentient being there to monitor things and, as I understand it, he used to work there."
I suppress the smile which threatens at the corners of my lips. It worked. We fooled her. Thank goodness. Now it should only be a matter of minutes before everything is alright again.
"And as for her," Jeanine looks at me keenly. "I will handle that."
I wait and watch as Tobias is dragged away out of the room. Jeanine's eyes linger on the door shutting in his wake. Two Dauntless soldiers remain in the room near me, and two guarding the doors. And then she turns to look at me.
"I asked you nicely enough to give up the information I wanted, Beatrice, but you refused to comply. I threatened you, but you did not see sense. Now you leave me with no other options." She walks over to the desk. "If I cannot gain any information from you, you exhaust your purpose here. But perhaps," her lips curve in a small, cold smile, "You could keep your knowledge to yourself and still help us."
"Never!" I snap, my skin crawling with fear with what she might be about to do. I don't know what she is thinking, only that this doesn't sound like an order for execution. What she is planning has to be even worse. Oh God...
"In your proper conscious state you wouldn't, but what if you didn't see things the same way anymore? What if your thinking processes became similar to your boyfriend, who is now working with us..."
"No," I breathe, my eyes widening in horror.
Jeanine only smiles a little. "Yes, Beatrice."
She is going to inject me with her serum. And I am not inoculated against it. She'll turn me into what Tobias had been last time — looking at everything through wrong eyes and helping the people I worked to bring down. My eyes dart around, trying to look for an escape. Two Dauntless soldiers near me, two by the door.
"Hold her!" Jeanine commands the same moment I elbow the soldier nearest to me in the ribs and lunge for the door. I make it halfway across the room, my small figure offering some advantage in this matter, before a punch to my jaw by one of the guards sends me crashing to the floor. Two of the soldiers pin me down. I bite at the hand covering my mouth, satisfied at the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. But even as I remove the hand gripping my head, I receive a sharp blow to the head. Stars blink before my eyes as I forget to fight back. Then another blow crashes to the side of my head, and the last thing I feel before everything turns black is the faint sting of a needle on my neck.
-o0o-
I open my eyes, the only emotion running through me being confusion. Where am I? What is happening? Why... Why am I on the floor?
The next second, I find a pressure on my body, someone holding me — but even as I blink again, it recedes. I raise myself to my feet, trying to comprehend the situation.
My eyes fall on Tori.
For a second I don't understand how that is happening, either, but then, things fall into place. Of course. The Dauntless soldiers are attacking the Abnegation. Our plan failed. The Dauntless are in the Abnegation residences. I need to stop them. I need to enter the houses and kill the attackers. I need to help my family. I look at Tori.
"Go," she says, nodding. They need your help."
I nod back, resolution filling me as I straighten up. I need to go now. Someone opens the door to the room where I am, and I feel my gun being placed in my holster. Staring at the pavement outside, I stride purposefully out of the room.
I find another person walking next to me, dressed in black. He must be one of the Divergent, an ally. We stride down the street towards the houses. I need to hurry, or I will be too late. I knock at the nearest house — in the code I know — twice, then three times, then six times. There is a small pause before the door opens, revealing a Dauntless soldier in black. I don't even look at his face. I just shoot.
He falls back with a sharp cry. I feel a small wave of triumph, and I am just about to step over him and rush into the house and check if everyone is okay, when I hear a cry behind me. I turn to see my companion fallen on the ground in a pool of blood. Before I can register anything else, a blur of movement takes place near me. Someone hits me on the head, and taking advantage of my momentary dizziness, drags me away from the door into an alley. Dimly, I hear the cry, "Close the door! Quick!" and the sound of the door slamming.
I quickly regain my composure, jerking away from my captor. I find myself staring at Jeanine Matthews, her gun pointed at me.
My blood boils with the thought of everything she has done. I point my gun at her without hesitation. This time, I won't hesitate to kill her.
"Drop your weapon!" I tell her. She hesitates.
"Beatrice," she says, frowning. "You —"
"Drop your weapon!" I repeat, hearing the bullet click into place in my gun. "If you think I will let you go, you're wrong."
She lowers her gun. I stop short, puzzled. Why did she surrender? This must be a trick. But whatever happens, I won't spare her.
I grip the gun harder in my hand. This must end now.
"Beatrice," Jeanine says again, and there is a strange urgency in her voice. "Stop. Reality isn't how you are seeing it."
I want to laugh. Oh yes? Is this how she plans to sway me? Convince me that I am in a simulation or something?
"It's not going to work this way," I say with a humorless laugh. "Playing mind games with me —" My fingers slowly tighten around the trigger.
"I am not the one playing mind games," Jeanine says with a sad smile. "Beatrice, please. Come back."
I frown, trying to get this over and done with. But somehow I can't do it. Something... something feels wrong.
"Beatrice," Jeanine whispers. "Please. I don't care if you kill me. But you can't let yourself be controlled by this simulation."
I blink. What —? This feels wrong. The words are wrong. The intonation is wrong. Jeanine... she wouldn't ever say something like this.
She is messing with you.
But this isn't it; something about the whole situation isn't right. My gun trembles in my hand.
"Beatrice," the woman says again. I freeze. It's not Jeanine's voice, even though it is her neat blonde hair and blue uniform that I see.
It's my mother's voice.
All in a moment I realize everything that is wrong with what I have been seeing and doing. Why were there so many Abnegation members on the streets? They were supposed to be inside their houses. How was Tori talking to me? She is supposed to be under the simulation. Why is Jeanine acting like this?
What is happening to me?
"Beatrice?" I hear it again, and it's definitely Mom's voice. "It's me, Beatrice. Can you hear me?"
What if you didn't see things the same way anymore? What if your thinking processes became similar to your boyfriend, who is now working with us...
The memory is hazy and muddled; it struggles to the surface from somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind. Simulation. Am I in a simulation? Vaguely, I recall the harsh blow to my head, and the sting of the needle...
The image before me blurs and flickers. For seconds, I see Jeanine's figure crumbling to form my mother's, and then back again. I blink a few times in quick succession, my heart rate spiking, the gun slipping from my hand, dropping and hitting the ground with a thud. The image of Jeanine before me dissipates, and there she is, my mother, a gun in hand, her hair windswept, bright green eyes wet.
"Mom?" I whisper.
"Beatrice," she whispers back.
And then, I don't know who moved first, but I am in her arms, clutching her tightly, each of her quick inhales and exhales bringing me more and more to reality.
I was under a simulation. Under Jeanine's serum. The person I saw as Tori was actually Jeanine. I saw Jeanine's guard as an ally. All the Dauntless soldiers appeared to be Abnegation. And I shot down an Abnegation resident, thinking of him as a Dauntless soldier. And Jeanine... I thought my mother was Jeanine. I almost shot her down.
"Mom," I croak, tears building and spilling from my eyes. "Mom." It's all I can say now.
I almost killed my mother. I almost killed the very person I strived so hard to protect. Oh God.
"Beatrice," she whispers, her fingers running through my hair, her head resting on top of mine as I bury my face in her shoulder. Her voice is unsteady, something I have never heard before. "It's okay, my child. It's over. We are okay."
I only sob harder, nodding feebly into her dress.
"I'm sorry," I mumble. "I am so sorry. I — I —"
"Shh, love, it's all right," she murmurs. "You were not yourself."
"I nearly killed you," I say brokenly. "You should have shot me. Why didn't you?"
"How could I possibly hurt my own daughter?" she replies, running her fingers over my hairline. "You are so brave, Beatrice. You overcame the simulation. I'm proud of you."
I just stare at her, dumbfounded. I very nearly killed her, and here she is, telling me she is proud of me. I am not a person anyone can be proud of. I can't possibly be, after everything I have done.
"How did you find me?" I ask, wiping my tears.
"I had been watching the trains," Mom says. "I had a feeling you would come. After I saw you knock at the house and fire, I knew something was wrong with you."
At her words, the memories of my actions flood my mind with greater clarity. Horror fills me as I remember myself firing at the first person to show up at the door.
"Whom did I shoot?" I ask fearfully.
"Philip," my mother replies, her voice lowering mournfully.
My breath falters. Philip. Philip Black. Susan's father. He had been killed in the attack the first time around. What have I done? Am I the one who will make one of my closest friends lose her father?
"Is he —?"
"I don't know." Mom doesn't meet my eyes, her voice quiet, soft. I bite my lip, fighting back more tears.
"You may have many questions to ask me, and I have questions to ask you," my mother says. "But now, we have to move." I nod. She picks up my gun from the ground and offers it to me. Reflexively, I find myself shrinking back from it, a sudden wave of panic spreading everywhere inside me.
"I — I —"
"You have to, Beatrice," Mom says, almost sternly. "You need to defend yourself." In the sternness of her deep green eyes, I see Tobias, I see the years of Dauntless within her. Struggling with myself, I nod and shakily accept the gun. It feels vile and terrible in my hands, as if I might shoot anyone in front of me again. But I can't afford to repeat what happened last time; I can't let my dread of the weapon take over, especially not now. With every second of my touching the cold, unforgiving metal, the shaking of my hands recedes, and when I am steady, I nod at her. Together, we start moving along the alley.
"Your father and Caleb are safe in our house," Mother says as we walk slowly, warily. "We will be safe when we get there. Caleb defected from Erudite. He did not complete initiation, after he learnt the truth about what is happening." There is some pride and affection in her voice. She believes him.
I nod, my fingers brushing against the gun in my holster, but I don't know if I believe him. The thought of Caleb being in our house sends a storm of conflicted emotions through me; did he change his mind and genuinely switch sides, or is he still the spy that I had known him as in my previous life?
When we are a few steps ahead, I suddenly remember that what we are doing now is almost an exact repeat of what happened in my previous life. My mother in a gray jacket which flaps in the wind to reveal the sleeveless shirt underneath, gun in hand. Us moving together, nearing the mouth of the alley. Minutes after a situation like this, last time, my mother died. I can't let it happen again.
"Mom, stop."
She does, and turns towards me, a questioning look on her face.
"You can't go ahead. They'll kill you as soon as they spot you. I — I can't lose you, Mom."
She only frowns. "Don't be absurd, Beatrice. I can't possibly let you go out there alone."
"You don't understand!" I protest. "I know you are Dauntless, Mom, but you need to stay back. Get inside one of the houses."
My mother looks stern, angry almost. "Beatrice, I assure you I can —"
"This isn't about you!" I exclaim. How can I explain to her that my fear isn't at all baseless without telling her the truth about my situation? And as much as I want to, this is no time for storytelling. "Please, Mom, just do it for me —"
I never realized how loud our voices had grown, until I hear that sound. The uniform, fast march of feet moving in perfect coordination. A chill runs down my spine. I look over my mother's shoulder to see three Dauntless soldiers running towards us. We have been spotted.
"Mom!" I shout in horror.
She doesn't waste any time in reacting. Her gun fires, and the first Dauntless soldier falls to the ground, not moving anymore. Dead.
"Try not to kill them," I call out to her. "They may be our friends!"
She nods, and her next bullet penetrates the second soldier's legs even as my shot knocks down the gun from his hand. The soldier crumples to the ground, but tries to move, limping, nonetheless. At least he can't hurt us, I think as I see a bullet from Mom's gun cause the fallen gun to skitter away from the soldier. I focus on the third and the only remaining soldier. And freeze.
I feel like I have been removed from reality and forced to descend into a nightmare. Or into my fear landscape. My mind stops working as every fibre of my being is seized up in violent tremors.
Is this a cruel joke, or a punishment for my crimes?
The third soldier runs towards me, gun raised and face blank.
That messy blonde hair which Christina had fantasized about.
Those brilliant celery green eyes, dulled and glazed.
Again. All over again.
Will.