Chapter 24
Tris POV
Sweat trickles down my forehead and pain shoots through my arm as I continuously assault the heavy bag of sand suspended right in front of me, alternating between fists, elbows, and knees.
"You okay?" Denver peeks his head out from behind the 'punching bag' when I stop
Since Denver and I had that talk last night he's been looking more and more like the Denver I've come to know. I know he's still struggling to move on from his feelings of guilt and dread but at least now he tries to believe me when I tell him that it wasn't entirely his fault, that there was no way he could've known about the Government's plan for mass murder. I've already made up my mind that Denver was not completely at fault for what happened to his family, he was merely a puppet controlled by our sick and corrupt Government.
"Yeah," I say and resume my fighting stance, "Just getting used to it."
He gives me a small nod and goes back to his place behind the bag
I start attacking the bag again.
This morning, after two of the subjects were banished into the desert, the Commander subjected the rest of us to a mandatory work out in their training room.
"We will be going to war," said the Commander addressing the rest of his rebellion, "And if we want to secure our victory and minimize casualties on our side, every single one of you has to be in perfect fighting condition…"
The overflowing confidence in his voice scares me because I know a man that confident will do everything they can to come out on top, no matter the consequences.
The rebel's training room was a far cry from the Dauntless one. The white paint chips on the walls were coming off, some of the lights flickered on and off casting an eerie glow across the room, and the tiles on the floor broke into several smaller pieces revealing the grey, uneven cement below.
And the rebels' training equipment looked like garbage compared to the clean cut Dauntless ones. All of them seemed to be made by the Rebels themselves out of anything they could get their hands on, which was mainly dirty piece of cloth, sand, gravel, rocks, and a bunch of other things. Like the dirty bags of sand hanging from the ceiling to serve as punching bags, the numbered sacks of sand and gravel according to its weight, the crudely drawn silhouette of a man on the hard wood wall for target practice, and a bunch of other stuff I don't recognize.
"C'mmon Chicago hit harder!" Denver yells after I throw two punches, "You hit like a girl!"
I could tell he had on his usual smirk behind this bag and I can't help but smile at the return of my old friend and at the sense of normalcy between us.
"In case you hadn't noticed," I say and put extra force behind my next punch, "I AM a girl!"
He slides backwards a bit, obviously not anticipating the strength of my punch but he still manages to smirk at me
"Yeah but barely." He mutters and I just punch the bag harder in protest.
This is probably the happiest I've been since I got shot. I have my friend back and we're talking as if we never had a falling out, I've got Peter who told me Tobias and my friends survived the war, and this is the closest I've ever been to Tobias ever since we got separated.
Right here in this room, if I focused on nothing but the bag in front of me I could pretend I'm back in Dauntless struggling to get through Phase 1 of Initiation. With Christina, Will, and Al training alongside me, Peter calling me "Stiff" whenever possible, Eric glaring at each of us waiting for someone to make a mistake to give him an excuse to dangle someone over the chasm, and Tobias pacing the training room floor as he studies our moves.
Keep tension here
The mere memory of his hands on me is enough to send a surge of electricity run through me.
I just miss him so much…
"CHICAGO!" the sound of someone calling me by my newest nickname snaps me out of my reverie and brings me back to the now
Denver rises up from his former position and we both look as a tall, blonde haired rebel approaches us.
"You're both wanted in the war room."
I share a questioning look with Denver before he shrugs and we both move to follow our guide out of the training room.
"Back to work!" Blonde rebel yells, in a very Eric-like way, at the subjects who stopped their work to watch us leave.
The minute we're out of the training room, I follow my guts and ask blonde rebel why the Commander wanted to see us.
"You'll find out when you get there." He replies tersely and I know it means I have to keep my mouth shut for the rest of the journey.
All throughout our abnormally long walk to the war room, my mind keeps coming up with reasons as to why the Commander would want to see us in the place where he comes up with his plans of sabotage.
I look at Denver hoping to ask him about his thoughts, but am surprised to find him as pale as a sheet, his lips pressed into so thin a line you can hardly see it, and his hands were balled into tight fists at his side.
Why's he so nervous? Could he be the reason we're wanted there?
A feeling of dread over takes me as a scary thought occurs to me.
The Commander has eyes everywhere, he must know about what happened to the city of Denver!
What if he thinks Denver willingly helped the Government and believes him to be some sort of spy? Maybe the Commander wants to interrogate him for some sort of insider information in the Government, then banish him when they're done…or worse
Then what happens when Denver doesn't tell them anything? Will they believe him or just go ahead and kill him?
But if this is all about Denver, then why am I here? As some sort of witness? Or maybe he suspects me of being another Government spy?
Whatever the case is, I will not let them take or hurt Denver. I have lost too many friends already and I do not plan on losing another one. I'll take the blame if I have to.
While walking, I reach out my hand and hold Denver's right hand. I look at him and give his hand a reassuring squeeze.
Finally we reach a large, steel door guarded by an armed rebel and get this uneasy feeling that the next time I pass through this door I will be nothing but a cold, lifeless corpse waiting to be buried somewhere in the desert.
The guard opens the door for us and blonde rebel pushes us in front of him so Denver and I step into the room first.
Beyond the steel door is a flurry of activity: men talking (arguing) loudly over a large oval table in the middle of the room, three others with their eyes glued to computer screens with bright green letters, and the Commander deep in conversation with two pale, younger rebels.
"Well do something about it!" I hear the Commander command furiously as we near him, "I don't care how you do it, just get us back on…"
Blonde rebel clears his throat loudly to get the Commander's attention, and it works, "Commander, Denver and Chicago are here."
The Commander frowns as he studies both of us. For a second all eyes are on us, like we were a couple of oddities presented before them.
"Bring them here." The Commander says breaking the silence and walks to the back of the room where a large wooden table stood between the Commander's chair and two extra ones.
Blonde rebel leads us to the Commander's table and the rest of the men resume their previous work. But they were very careful to stow away papers and lower their voices as we walk past them. Like they were afraid we'd find out what they were up to. This did nothing to suppress my morbid thoughts of being accused as Government spies.
The Commander stares at us with an unreadable expression as Denver and I tentatively take the vacant seats before him.
"You wanted to see us?" I ask hoping the Commander will quit giving me that soul-piercing gaze.
"I did." He says and leans back on his chair, "As you may already know, I have eyes everywhere. I have a lot of ways to get useful information out of anyone. So it shouldn't come across as a shock to either of you when I say I know of your involvement in the fall of your cities."
I feel Denver stiffen beside me and I hold his hand tighter, both to comfort him and myself.
"And you weren't just mere soldiers, no, no, you two were key elements, if not, the instigators of those wars. You," He fixes those cold, searching eyes of his on Denver's scared, blue ones and I find the familiar build up of anger rising inside me.
Keep your calm Tris. Chill don't kill.
"You mister, opened the gates that…"
"We already know what happened!" The words are out of my mouth before I even know it, I just couldn't let him torture us by rehashing our worst nightmares.
"There's no need for you to have us relive those dreaded moments just so you could make a point. Of you're gonna kill us, just do it, 'coz we're not Government spies, we never were. We were just pawns in the sick game the Government decided to have on the lives of innocent people, and frankly, we're tired of playing."
Denver squeezes my hand tightly telling me to shut up and be careful, but it's too late 'coz I've already said what I wanted to say.
My sudden outburst may have been pure recklessness but I just lost it. I couldn't go through those moments again, not without breaking. I've tried so hard for three years to push those thoughts away, and if they were to resurface, it will not because of this dictator.
I expected the Commander to go into rage or put a bullet in my head after what I said, instead he just sat there studying me, like he's trying to figure out how best to deal with me. After what felt like a century of watching him study me, he finally speaks.
"The reason I called you here is not because I suspected either or both of you to be spies. If I thought that, you would not be sitting in this room, instead you would be hanging from the ceiling while my men interrogate you. And you will stay there until we get every ounce of information from you and when we do, then you have my permission to die."
A cold shiver runs through my spine as I imagine Denver and I being beaten to death for information we never even had.
"No. You're here because our whole computer system has been wiped out by a virus from one of the Government files we took. So now we are forced to rely solely on paper trails, and it is proving to be a lot less helpful than we'd have hoped. Right now, our techies our trying to revive the important files the virus wiped out."
"Don't you have spies in the Government?" I ask him
"Unfortunately our spies were discovered shortly after we rescued you. And this is where you come in. Because you two are the only other people, aside from our spies, who have had direct contact with the Government. We need you to tell us everything you know about the enemy and help us bring them down."
"Do we have a choice?"
"Of course you do. If you didn't, well I assume you already know what we'll do." He grins sadistically at the last part and I know he means the torture chamber.
I'm about to give him the information he wants when the steel door bursts open and alarms start going off all over the place. Everyone in the room now bore confused, alarmed, and scared reactions as the most tragic scenarios ran through our heads.
The ringing was so loud it was a miracle I even heard the guard scream, "INTRUDERS!"
AN GUYS! First of all I am really really REALLY sorry for the long absence. No excuse is excusable I know, but I got hung up on this chapter 'coz I decided to change a few things with how I originally wanted the story to work out. Plus the other things happening in my unDauntless (if that's even a word, I don't know) life. I know it's not excusable and even the Amity breads probably won't appease you guys after I just vanished and broke promises, but I'll try to make it up to you guys…somehow hehe ^_^