"We will have to enter Amity through here," Max says, pointing a map as we sit around a table in the meeting room. "Since we have Dauntless guards posted at the fence, entry shouldn't be a problem."
Eric, who has been steepling his fingers for a few minutes, shakes his head. "What about cooperation from Johanna Reyes? I doubt that she want us to come into Amity to take members of her faction," he points out.
"She wouldn't be difficult to reason with," Max says. "She wouldn't be a problem unlike Jack Kang of Candor."
"So, with the Candor raid, we will arrive by force, I guess," Veronica says. "However, taking the Amity from their faction is still, by definition, forceful."
"Not as forceful as how we will enter Candor," Max says.
As Max continues talking, I look at my nails and pick at the cuticles. Any distraction is welcome as I don't want to be reminded in what I will partake in for the next few days. I am not the type to think about these kind of things all the time, as they are disturbing.
There better not be any Divergents in Amity as it would only increase the casualty rate caused by that Box. However, if Jeanine runs out of Divergents to hook up to that Box, she will use me and Eric to achieve that. By using me first.
Hopefully there is someone with a high percentage of Divergence that this nightmarish reality would not happen. Unfortunately, it would be considered impossible to have aptitude for four factions or all five.
After the meeting, I go to the twelfth floor to check up on the situation. I really don't want to but it's not like I can avoid it. One shouldn't bury their heads in the sand. Trying to avoid it is willful ignorance.
Peter leaves the laboratory and when he approaches me without averting his gaze, I fight the urge to look for a blunt object.
"Well, looks like the fifteenth subject bit the dust," he says nonchalantly as it wasn't something to worry about. "So far, they are dropping like flies."
"I wasn't wrong when I said you have sociopathic tendencies," I remind him. "Your inability to understand the situation and your ability to emphasize explains it."
"Well, I don't cheat my way up like you did during initiation," Peter says.
"I didn't stab a fellow initiate in the eye and try to murder someone because I didn't rank first," I point out. "I have standards."
I walk away and I hear him mutter, "Says the girl who killed her friend and a kid from her former faction."
Rage fills me and I find myself punching him in the nose before grabbing his jacket and I push him to the wall, face first. I hear something crack and when he turns around, I see that I broke his nose and that blood is dripping down his chin.
I'm filled with satisfaction of the outcome.
I approach him and grab the collar of his jacket. "How did you find out what I did?" I whisper. "How?"
"I overheard Ross talking to another Dauntless how you passed out Four made you misfire," Peter says. "Seems like he can't keep his mouth shut."
Seeing that it's enough to hear, I release him and throw his head back. I turn away from him before entering the laboratory where Jeanine is.
I don't pay attention as they unhook a Abnegation man from the cords as I approach the holographic computers. Analyzing Jeanine's expression, it is obvious that she appears taxed.
"Seems like the members of your former faction don't have strong enough Divergence to get through all five simulations," Jeanine tells me. "We're down to five from that faction."
The way she speaks of these people disgusts me. It's as if they are not human beings with feelings but lab rats that don't have the right genetics to produce a desirable result. She does have no regard for Divergents, so that does not surprise me.
She looks at my hand and asks, "Did you come across something disagreeable?"
I look down at my hand and see that there is blood stains. When I punched Peter, the impact must have resulted in blood to splatter on my hand.
"Someone just got in the middle of the way," I say, shrugging. "He was wasting my time."
"I don't understand why the Dauntless handle their problems with violence," Jeanine says. "It is highly illogical."
"I have the ability to assert my authority," I tell her formally. "I am one of the Dauntless leaders."
"You will assert authority in a way that it does not violate the behavior protocol here," Jeanine says as I hear the door slide open. "Violence will not be tolerated on Erudite soil, Beatrice. For it is illogical to solve your problems by force."
The Amity abhor violence because they think it violates the peace whereas Erudite views any rash violent act and associate it with people who have low intellect. I have to be careful otherwise Jeanine might change her mind and use me to open the Box sooner than planned.
If it results in that, I should control my temper, as it would be selfish to Eric if I act rashly. And I don't want him to suffer.
I was relieved when break came, as I didn't want to remain there to witness what is going on in the laboratory. I didn't need to see that.
I wash my hands and go in the break room in Erudite headquarters, where I pour myself a cup of coffee and a small chocolate chip cookie from their communal cookie jar. As I sip my coffee, I see a wooden shelf on the wall filled with pamphlets.
I pop the miniature cookie in my mouth and approach the shelf. Most of the pamphlets concern tips for mental health and physical wellbeing though one stands out. It's called How to deal with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)
PTSD. Eric mentioned it when he was talking about the report about Marcus Eaton but he didn't go into detail about it. I go a nearby table with the pamphlet and coffee in hand and sit down at an empty chair.
I open the pamphlet and begin reading its contents…
Symptoms of PTSD
Mood: anger, general discontent, guilt, hopelessness, inability to feel pleasure, loneliness, loss of interest, nervousness, or emotional distress.
I feel guilty. I feel hopeless.
Behavioral: aggression, agitation, hostility, hypervigilance, irritability, screaming, self-destructive behavior, self-harm, or social isolation.
Just being reminded of what I did agitates me.
Psychological: depression, fear, flashback, hallucination, panic attack, severe anxiety, or mistrust.
I can't be able to hold a real gun.
Sleep: insomnia, night terror, nightmares, or sleep deprivation.
I have experienced nightmares, yes.
Cognitive: thoughts of suicide or unwanted thoughts.
Hopefully it doesn't come to that.
Whole body: acute stress or blackout.
Not that I know of. No
Also common: emotional detachment, headache, or lack of emotional response.
Not so far, no.
Looking over at the page where treatment is listed. For lifestyle, I see that it includes stress management, relaxation techniques, and psychoeducation. There are therapies, including nightmare therapy, crises intervention, and cognitive therapy. However, in these circumstances, it would be difficult to access them.
It will be hard for any of this if we are at war.
I scrunch up the pamphlet in my pocket before finishing up the coffee. I throw away the Styrofoam cup before heading out of the break room. Out the door, I come face to face with Eric.
"Geez, Eric!" I exclaim. "Good thing I was the only one here or else you could have given someone a heart attack."
"It is a talent I acquired," he says. "Anyway, you are just the person I was looking for."
"Oh." I cross my arms. "Does either Jeanine or Max want something?"
"Well, not technically, though it's not difficult to access the control rooms in this building," Eric replies.. "You should be glad I was the only one that saw you lash out at Peter."
I remember Jeanine scolding me about containing my temper and I suspect that Eric will give me a similar lecture. However, unlike with Jeanine, I could explain it better to him.
"Peter antagonized me first," I explain. "He insinuated that I was a hypocrite. That I'm no better than him. I didn't purposely do those things like he did."
"That is true, however, this is not Dauntless," he says. "You have to be careful when managing your temper."
"Tell me how instead of just telling me to manage my temper," I tell him. "You even claim you know about PTSD and you turn around and react like a total asshole. You were Erudite. You are supposed to be understanding."
With that, I walk away. Not caring to look back. I love him but he needed to hear that.
"I thought I would be out of this cesspool of logic when I chose Dauntless," Tori tells me as we inspect the objects in one of the innovations room. "Now look where I'm at."
"At least you are familiar with it," I say, inspecting one of the silver discs that are lying on the table. "Me? I only know Dauntless and Abnegation."
"Yes, and though I use some knowledge that I retained, I didn't flaunt my heritage like your boyfriend does," Tori says, saying the last nine words with resentment in her voice.
"Eric doesn't flaunt it," I say. He doesn't want the people he hates to use his heritage to classify him as "the typical cold and emotionless Erudite."
"He acts as if he's smarter than the rest of the Dauntless," Tori says. "As if he is the only one who still retained his brain. I still don't understand what you see in him."
Eric is arrogant like that. That he's the smartest of the faction and he goes on about how most Dauntless don't have a large attention span. That they are idiots. I can't deny that aspect of his arrogance.
"He is arrogant, yes, but he is so much more than that," I say. "He is…complicated. He actually tore down his walls for me."
"If you say so," Tori says, appearing skeptical. "However, that doesn't change my opinion about him."
I sigh. I can't force my friends to like him. It's their choice to warm up to him or not. If they don't like him, it's their choice.
"Brain food. Brain food. Brain food," Zeke mutters to himself as we move along the lunch line in the Erudite cafeteria. "I don't know why these Noses like this kind of food. It's rather unappetizing."
"They eat it because it helps their brain health," I say, putting some salmon on my tray. "Besides, I don't find brain food disgusting."
"I have seen that living with a former Erudite has affected your taste buds," Zeke grumbles.
"One thing about Abnegation is that one learns not to be picky," I reply, picking up a bottle of pomegranate grape juice.
Zeke chuckles. "Four told me about the food. I don't know if I could survive with eating food that tastes like cardboard and dust."
I snort. Anyone not raised in Abnegation wouldn't bear to live to live under the restrictions they…just thinking about Abnegation feels as if a golf ball is lodged in my throat.
I blink away the tears in my eyes, as I manage to say, "The food didn't taste like cardboard. Unseasoned yes, but not like cardboard."
I go over to an empty table and set my tray in front of me before I sit down.
"Well, it would taste like cardboard to me," Zeke says as he sits down in front of his tray of food.
"It would be if someone wasn't born Abnegation," I say, preparing to cut up my salmon.
"As she said, that is why no one would be picky," Eric says, dropping into a seat next to me. So, he is willing to talk to me after I had called him out. He's not the type to avoid me anyway.
"In my book, you both had it bad," Zeke says in reply. "One of you was stuck eating this disgusting brain food and the other had to eat plain and boring food."
"It is called brain food because it boosts your brain health and a healthy brain is good for your decision making," Eric reminds him.
"Blueberries are considered brain food and they don't taste foul," I point out. "They actually help with your digestive system as well."
"No need to speak about that type of stuff during lunch," says Zeke.
"Says the guy who made sex jokes during lunch," Eric says to him.
No one speaks during lunch. After I cleaned off my tray and put it in the tray return. When I leave the lunchroom, Eric stops me.
"Tris," he says and I turn to him. I cross my arms, wondering what he has to say.
"You were right," he says. "It was not in my place to react the way I did when I know better. Avoiding reminders of the traumatic event is a symptom of PTSD. For you, it would be the sight of an authentic firearm."
"And nightmares," I say, crossing my arms. I could still see the image of the crows atop the corpses of Will and that girl I killed. I shudder, trying to erase the image from my head.
He puts his hand on my shoulder and says, "We all have our demons. Now, let me find you something to channel your anger in."