TOBIAS
I WAKE TO the sound of footsteps outside of my cell. I try and shift so that I'm facing the door and I land on my wrist. I groan out loud and bring my wrists to my stomach. The cuts have closed, but they are nowhere near healed. The surrounding skin is raw and soft, subject to easy damage.
The footsteps stop and the locks begin to turn. When the door opens, a flood of light pours in, and I bring my arm up to shield my eyes. The last time I saw light was during my torture session the other evening—the third since I've been here.
They've been kind enough to keep the binds off my wrists, but they haven't broken me yet. I assume my visitor is my guard, coming to take me to another training session. It's been at least two days since the last one, so they must be planning something special.
But when I take down my arm, I see someone who I'd never thought I'd see again. I had hoped that the past two and half years would have been unkind to him, leaving him a starving mess fending for his life miles away from the city.
But here he stands, strong and healthy, staring down at me like the disappointment I always was to him.
I don't even have the words to speak.
"Such a pleasure to see you again, my son."
I resist the urge to wrap my hands around his pathetic throat, more or less because I know I can't win.
"What are you doing here?" I ask.
"Ah, that's a very good question," he says, folding his hands in front of him like some pretentious politician. "You are here because I asked for you."
"Why the hell would you ever want to see me again," I spit.
"Because I despise you so very much," says Marcus with an air of pride.
"Oh, that makes sense."
"You see," he says, pacing across the room, "I am a very important person here. What I say goes, so when I said I needed you, they made sure I was not ignored."
Marcus was the reason I was kidnapped? He was the one who called the ambush at the church?
He steps closer to me and I scoot back across the floor.
"You look so thin, Tobias, are you feeling all right?"
"Just fine," I growl at him.
"I see my friends have introduced you to Vinmater." I flinch at the name. "Has she treated you well?"
"What's with all the questions, Marcus? What do you really want me for?" I retort.
"Let's not be hasty," he says, smiling. "You will know all in good time."
I snort in exasperation.
He leans down, his face just inches from mine. "It was nice to see you, Tobias," he whispers. His breath is rancid, like something died inside of him.
It was probably his soul.
He leaves the room without another word and closes the door behind him. His visit has put me more on edge than the torture sessions.
Why would he ask for me? Was it just to torture me? Because he's already done that, and if that's all he asked for, then why didn't he tell just tell me?
I take a deep breath and look down at my hands to see that they are shaking. I'm not scared of him—I've let go of my past—but I'm afraid that Marcus will find a way to use me that will end up hurting the ones I love.
I jolt awake. The darkness swallows everything, but I can hear someone quietly turning the locks on my door. I sit up and squint into the gloom, waiting. My cell door creaks open and someone slips quickly inside before shutting the door quietly behind them.
They light a small lantern and hold it up to their face. Matthew's face becomes chiseled from the blackness.
I assume that he's here to take me to my torture session.
"So great to see you," I spit. It may as well have been Viktor himself who came to escort me.
"You'll thank me later," he whispers.
"Oh no, I'll thank you now!" I say with mock enthusiasm. "Thank you, Matthew, for inflicting agonizing pain on me day and night. There is nothing more I could ever wish for—"
"Shut up, Tobias!" he hisses.
I pause.
That's the first time that he's used my real name.
"I'll explain everything on the way," he says, "but right now, I need you to stay quiet and follow me."
"And why should I trust you?" I say. I'm not eager to take any orders that come from Matthew, but I lower my voice anyway.
"Because I'm your friend," he says simply.
I snort in exasperation.
He says nothing more and walks to the door, looking both ways. He then sprints from the entryway and down the hall and I'm left to scramble after him.
I still don't know if I should trust him, but if he can lead me out of this building, then I might be able to take him on alone.
Of course, in this pathetic state, I doubt that I could take down a pillow.
My legs are unsteady and I have to lean against the doorframe before running after him. I reach the stairwell that he's disappeared down just as a door at the other end of the hallway begins to open. I look back and see that my cell is wide open. As soon as the guard notices, he'll set off the alarms. My only hope is that the exit isn't too far away and we can escape before they go into lockdown.
I take one step down the stairs and fall. It's all I can do to grab ahold of the railing, even though my wrists are throbbing. I bite back a scream and struggle to my feet again, dragging myself one step at a time down the stairs. At the bottom, I see Matthew waiting anxiously, checking his watch again and again.
"We have approximately forty-five seconds until that guard pulls the alarm and this place goes on lockdown. After that, we're as good as dead."
He opens the door to another hallway.
"There's a stairwell at the other end of this corridor. On the landing, there's a fire escape, which will get us to the north side of the building. Once we're there, we have to stay close to the building, in the blind spot of the cameras. At the south side, there's a twenty-foot wall and a barbed fence. We'll have to go out the main entrance, which will be difficult considering there are always ten guards on duty. I have a grenade that I snatched from the weapons room." At that he pulls back his jacket to reveal a small device with a ring at the top. "We'll use that to cause a distraction. However, we still haven't gotten to the hardest part.
"Outside of those walls is a mile high canyon wall. This building is located at the bottom of a dried up lake, so the canyon provides a natural barrier to prevent escapees. There's no easy way around it, so we'll have to scale the side and hope we aren't spotted."
He speaks so fast that I can barely follow along.
More stairs, blind spots, ten guards, explosions and huge canyon walls—that's about all I got.
"We have thirty seconds now. Time to go," Matthew says and we start our sprint down the hallway. I trip again and again over my own feet, but manage to regain balance each time and we finally reach the stairwell. I take the stairs two at a time and reach the landing with ten seconds left. There's a window with a red latch, which Matthew pulls. A cold wind blows through the open window and I shiver, thinking of having to bear this weather the entire way back home, wherever that is. I peer outside and look down. The ground is a dizzying fifteen stories below us.
I pull my head back inside and lean against the wall. I can feel my breath coming in short bursts and I know I'm going to have to calm myself down if I want to get out of here alive. Matthew sticks one foot through the open window, and then the other, motioning for me to follow. I think of Tris and how she would have climbed out the window without a moment's hesitation; how she would be proud of me for overcoming my fear, and letting go of the notion that the fear is mine and not just a conception someone else led me to believe.
That's when the alarms sound. I take a deep breath and practically jump out the window onto the fire escape. Matthew's already two flights down and I run to catch up with him. The metal frame shakes beneath my feet, but at least it's sturdier than the Ferris Wheel. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I sprint around the east side of the building, but what I see stops me in my tracks. Just as Matthew said, ten guards stand at attention throughout the front courtyard.
"This place is like a prison," I hiss under my breath.
"It basically is, except for the fact that it's considerably less humane."
We crouch there behind the edge of the wall, watching the movements of the guards. The alarms still wail through the windows of the building, echoing off the canyon walls. Two men stand a few feet in front of the double gate, which is reinforced with barbed wire and an electric fence. Another six are stationed at equal intervals throughout the yard, their backs facing inward so their eyes can spot any movement from escapees. The last two are next to the front door, as if someone would be stupid enough to try and escape through it. I'm surprised that the guard closest to us hasn't seen our faces peering around the corner.
I pull my head back behind the wall. "What's your plan?" I ask Matthew.
"I'll toss the grenade into the middle of the courtyard and cause a diversion. It'll buy us enough time to make it to the gates, but we'll still have to get past the guards." He hands me a small, silver object. "How good are you with a knife?"
I stare at it numbly, remembering the time that I threw the knives at Tris in order to protect her from Eric and the other Dauntless leaders.
"Fairly decent," I say.
"Good. On my mark, run for the gate and take out the guards and I'll meet you there."
I nod and he takes the grenade from his belt.
"One."
I play with the dagger, twirling it anxiously between my fingers.
"Two," he whispers with more intensity.
I shift my weight between my feet, preparing to make a run for it.
"Three!" Matthew pulls the ring and tosses the grenade towards the center of the courtyard. Time slows down as I push off with my right leg and tear across the grass. The guard closest to us turns at the sound of Matthew's voice and begins to pull his gun, but Matthew is faster and lands a solid punch to his lower jaw, sending his head twisting back over his shoulder. The grenade detonates and I'm thrown sideways, landing hard on my side in the dirt.
Time returns to normal and there's smoke filling the air and six guards running wildly about in the center of the lawn, some firing blindly into the air. I can't set eyes on Matthew—the grass has caught fire and it's beginning to spread. I'm so focused on trying to find him that a stray bullet grazes my arm and I cry out.
I've got to keep my head if we're going to get out of here.
I press my free hand against the wound to stop the bleeding and scramble to my feet. When I reach the first guard, he has his back turned, watching the fire, and I easily stick the knife into his back. He falls limply to the ground, but the second guard has turned and draws his gun. I don't waste any time in throwing the knife at his right shoulder. I feel the handle as it slips from my fingers and spins through the air, hitting its mark exactly. He drops the gun and I lurch forward, catching the back of his knee with a sweep of my foot. His legs crumple beneath him and I jab my hand into his throat. He chokes silently and I leave him there, pulling my knife free and running for the gate. Matthew's standing there, unscathed except for a small scratch above his eye. He's rapidly punching in codes on the keypad.
"Dammit! On lock down, all gates become unbreachable." He glances up at the top of the fence, a thoughtful look spreading over his face.
I realize what he's thinking. "Oh no. We're not going to climb over it, are we?"
"We might have to."
I'm breathing hard from the battle and the thickening air. I'm not sure if I would able to climb over the barbed fence, plus trying to avoid electrocution.
"I can probably disable the circuit boards long enough for the electric signals to reboot. But we'll have to move quickly." His face is alight with the prospect of danger. He begins to fiddle with a gray box on the wall. A door pops open to reveal a tangle of wires—red, blue, yellow, green and black. He studies the wires a moment before searching through them.
I stare at him incredulously. "Do you enjoy this kind of thing?"
"Adrenaline is the best medicine." He looks at me, breathless with anticipation. "Don't you?"
"Once upon a time. But my Dauntless days are over."
Matthew laughs a little too enthusiastically.
"Alright, are you ready?" He pinches a red wire and a black wire between his fingers, a knife in the other hand.
I walk up to the fence and stare up at it, clenching my fists.
"Ready."
"Here goes nothing," he says and cuts the two wires. A large spark shoots from the box and Matthew cries out, jumping back from the control panel. The fence visibly shudders and it gets noticeably quieter as the electrical impulses buzzing through the wires cease. Matthew throws himself at the fence and begins to climb, placing one foot in front of the other. I hesitate.
"Tobias, we don't have time to waste!" he yells down at me.
I take a deep breath and put one foot in a crevice between the twisted wires. My wrists are sore and the wound on my arm is still bleeding. My head spins from dehydration and exhaustion.
"Next time, I'm staying in the cell, instead of facing all these heights," I mutter breathlessly.
I'm halfway up the fence when something clinks against the metal right next to my hand. I pause for a moment to look behind me. The ground is alight with the flames from Matthew's grenade and the guards have regrouped, aiming their guns at our defenseless bodies.
Another bullet barely misses my midsection.
Three of the guards lay dead, one of them burned in the explosion. The second man I took down at the gate has recovered and is firing rapidly at Matthew. The mounting wind has begun to carry the smoke towards us and I start to choke on the thick air. One of the guards lands a shot to my left thigh and my foot slips off the fence.
I cling onto the rusted metal and drag my leg back up, gritting my teeth. It takes all my will power to move it as I begin to climb again. I scream in pain as I'm forced to put pressure on it, fire racing through my veins and up my body.
I make it to the top of the fence, my hands shaking and ash coating my skin. I wrap my hands in my sleeves and balance precariously on the fence between the barbs.
Matthew is there as well.
"Why haven't you started down the other side yet?" I yell at him over the sound of the roaring flames and the ceaseless gunfire.
"I'm caught. On the barbed wire."
I can barely hear him; his voice sounds deflated, like he's given up. He struggles weakly against the sharp edges that tether him to the fence by his pant leg.
"Here, let me cut you free." I pull the knife he gave me from my pocket and begin to slice at the fabric, but it's a thick, battle-ready material, and the blade barely makes a tear.
"It's no use, Tobias!" Matthew says. "Leave me! Listen, there's a small path leading up the canyon just past that gorse patch." He points in the direction of the cliff, where I see a small cluster of bushes.
"Take it up about halfway up and hide in the cave overnight. You'll find a few provisions to keep you going. Once you reach the top of the wall, head straight south until you reach a village and find a man by the name of Arthur Dayburn. He'll help you get home."
I shake my head violently. Matthew may have been less than friendly the past few days, but he's giving his life for me now, and I can't just forget that.
"No, we're getting you free!"
"Agh!" he cries out. A bullet has found it's way into his right hand. I'm surprised we haven't been riddled with holes yet, but the fence is unnaturally thick, and the level space between the two fences makes it difficult to aim accurately.
"Go, now! The fence will reset soon and you still have to get down the other side."
He's right. If neither of us makes it out, there'll be no one to avenge the other and no one to put a stop to Viktor's tortuous habits.
"At least promise me you'll try and cut yourself free," I say, handing him the knife. He nods and I start down the other side.
A guard has started up the fence by the time I reach the ground, and I know Matthew's chances are dwindling fast. The gunfire has stopped, but he's in no state for hand-to-hand combat.
The wound in my leg is still burning and the graze from earlier stings like hell. I rip a piece of fabric from the hem of my shirt and wrap it tightly over the wound to stop the bleeding. When I look back up at Matthew, he's managed to cut himself free and is starting to head down the other side, but there's something else, too.
I can hear a faint buzzing coming from the bottom of the fence, getting more powerful by the second.
"Matthew! You have to jump! The electric fence is starting up again!"
He turns so that he's jumping away from the fence and tenses, ready to push off, but the guard has reached him and grabs his shirt collar. Matthew swings his fist around, but the guard catches it and twists, breaking his wrist. Matthew screams, clutching it to his chest. The only thing keeping him on the fence now is the guard's iron grip. The humming gets louder and I step back a few paces, ready for the shock. A loud zap sounds and then the buzzing softens to a low whine. Both men fall twenty feet to the ground, unconscious.
"Matthew!" I surge forward, taking him by his good arm and hoisting him onto my shoulder. I know I have to get him as far away as possible, but he's like a dead weight, dragging me down after already having to deal with the bullet wound in my leg. The guard still lies in a heap at the base of the fence. I can't be sure if he's even alive.
In fact, I don't even know if Matthew's alive. I set him down and sigh heavily when the weight's taken off my shoulder. I don't see any movement that would signify breathing, so I lean down and press my ear to his chest, listening for any sound of a heartbeat. Between the crackling flames, screaming guards, resumed gunfire, and wailing alarms, I can barely hear my own ragged breaths, but eventually I make out a faint pulse.
He opens his eyes and looks at me, then back at the fire that's starting to consume the building.
"Are you alright?" I ask hastily.
"I'll manage," he grunts, straining to stand up.
"Let me help," I say, reaching for his arm.
"Thanks."
There's a moment of silence before he speaks again. "Viktor has a tunnel that leads from here to his main facility. The fire won't kill him, or any of his followers, but it will take them a few days to reach it. They'll be set back on their plans, which gives us enough time to reach the city and get a team together.
"I know where the building is, so we can have a look at what he's really up to. I've never actually been there, so I don't know everything that Viktor's planning," he looks at me desperately, "I just know that's it's big."
"First thing's first, we need to get out of here. Viktor may not be after us, but that fire's not slowing down and it's going to be nightfall soon," I say. The sun is already beginning to dip below the horizon.
"You're right," says Matthew. "We need to get to that cave."
He looks up at the canyon wall and we both groan. Matthew's hand is swollen and still bleeding, as is my leg; the make-do bandage is soaked through. My arm stings and my wrists are throbbing. The cuts have reopened and they're inflamed from the previous battle. As we begin the trek to the cliff, my legs start to feel unsteady beneath me. I reach for Matthew, who's already weak from the electric shock he received and having fallen twenty feet, to steady myself. It's surprising that he didn't break any bones, but he's limping badly.
I hesitate before I place a hand on his shoulder because I don't want to injure him more, but the sky starts to spin around me and my legs crumple, so I don't have any choice. I miss and nearly fall to the ground, but Matthew grabs my arm at the last moment, bringing it around his shoulder.
"You are in bad shape, dude," he says.
I just stare at him.
"We need to get you to food and water and rest. Do you think you can make it up that path?"
"Of course. I'm not incapable," I say a little too harshly. I remove my arm and take a few steps forward, before I stumble. Matthew comes to my aid again.
"I just might need a little help," I grumble. Matthew laughs and the two of us slowly limp towards the gorse patch. By the time we've reached it, the sun has set completely and there are only a few fingers of light stretching into the sky.
The path is small—about two feet wide—and covered in small rocks and crevices. It's a fairly steep climb, but I take a deep breath and power forward. Adrenaline pumps through me, but I know it won't last. I can feel my legs weakening with every step.
At last we reach the cave Matthew mentioned, which is about six feet high. I can hardly see my hand in front of my face. He disappears into the blackness and I follow hesitantly.
"Matthew?" I say. The ebony swallows my words whole.
Something moves in front of me, and light suddenly glows from the shadows. Matthew sets a lantern down on the floor and turns to a backpack lying in a crack in the wall. The cave is about fifteen feet deep and ten feet wide. I take a seat about halfway in and lean against the wall. My legs are numb and it's all I can do not to fall asleep right now.
"I've got a few snacks and some water," Matthew says. "We'll have to go without a fire. There's still a chance that someone could come after us, and we don't want to alert them with the smoke. This lantern won't be seen outside of this cave. Good news, though," he picks the backpack up and joins me, "there are a few thermal blankets to keep us warm."
I can feel a cold draft blowing in through the cave, coming off the canyon side. I shiver and Matthew hands me a grey blanket. I wrap myself up in it hastily and take a granola bar that he's laid out.
"So I think that you owe me an explanation," I say, looking at Matthew meaningfully.
He raises his eyebrows and then sighs. He looks out of the cave mouth at the bright orange flames in the distance. They've burned the building and are starting to die out for lack of sustenance to feed off of.
After a few minutes, he speaks. "I was a spy."
"For who?" I ask warily.
"The Bureau, of course. They didn't send me there—I went on my own. But I was always on your side.
"I heard about Viktor where I was working at the Bureau. Someone told a story and I became intrigued, so I did a little bit of research, and maybe some hacking, and I found out that he had a compound and quite the developing organization out here. I knew that he couldn't be up to anything good, so I decided to check it out for myself.
"I couldn't, however, risk telling anyone else of my plans because they might try to stop me, or be put in danger. So I came out here by myself about a month ago. At first Viktor was unwelcoming. They thought I was some unlucky wanderer who had fallen into their hands, so they had a little bit of fun by torturing me. They didn't believe me when I said that I had heard about the legendary Viktor Rogav and wanted to join him on his mission for revenge.
"I gave them a pretty convincing story about my family being wronged in the Purity War and my relentlessness, even through the torture, eventually convinced them. Viktor, who had the same thing happen to him, took me on as his personal apprentice. It was the last thing I was expecting, but I took the opportunity and went along with it. I didn't learn much, though. He kept all his secrets between himself and the other two leaders. Yet he trusted me with a good many things, and in a few weeks, we were going to go to the main facility and complete the plan, but that's when you came along.
"They brought you in one night, unconscious, and threw you in a cell. Viktor called me to a meeting to explain your arrival. He asked if I knew you, and I said you had been an old acquaintance of mine. He granted me the privilege of torturing you myself. I did not find it pleasing in any way, but I knew it would be better than letting somebody else take care of it. Later that evening, I overheard someone talking with Marcus. He said that you were there because of him, and how your public execution would be in two week's time, which would have been tomorrow. Tobias, Marcus was going to air your death live so everyone back home could see it."
I stare at him numbly, slowly processing everything that he's implying.
Marcus did intend to hurt the ones I love, by using me as his weapon.
Red streaks cloud my vision, but I take a few deep breaths to try and calm myself down. My body still aches, but I'm wide awake now.
My wounds are still searing, and I start to unwrap the bandage from my leg. There's an unpleasant mixture of dirt and blood plastered to my skin.
"Here," Matthew says. "Rub some of this on it and wrap it again."
He hands me a clear salve and some fresh gauze. The ointment stings almost more than the injury itself, but then it fades into a cool tingling sensation. I breathe a sigh through my gritted teeth.
"Better?"
"Much," I say. I wrap the fabric over the wound a few times and take care of my wrists and the graze on my arm. When I'm done, I hand the supplies to Matthew.
"That medicine won't fix your broken wrist, but I think I can help."
Matthew gingerly offers me his hand and I carefully wrap the gauze so he won't be able to bend his wrist.
"As long as you don't go around punching people, you should be fine until we can get you to a real doctor."
"Thanks," he says.
I sit back against the wall and think back on the last week and half, although it was impossible for me to tell one day from the next. The holes where the bullet sits is the only thing that still hurts significantly and I can only hope the one in my leg, and the one in Matthew's right hand, won't become infected before we get home.
"Do you remember, that first torture session," I cringe at the memory, "where you were testing my compliance? What if I had given in and done what you asked? Would I have been granted a better level of treatment?"
"Of course not," answers Matthew. "Viktor never intended to let you know his real purpose for you. He wanted to lead you to believe you had a chance so you wouldn't give up and just die on him, but Viktor never really intended to give you anything more than your public execution."
I nod. It makes sense—someone as ruthless as Viktor would never let his victims off the hook. I'm thankful now that I held on until Matthew rescued me.
I'm fizzing with a hundred questions, but I try to arrange them in my head before I ask them.
"Why did you treat me so harshly? You could have at least told me you were on my side," I say accusingly.
He shakes his head. "It's the same situation where you would have been put in danger for knowing. Viktor had to believe that you were my enemy, and nothing less. He's very observant; any sign that you trusted me would jeopardize the entire plan."
"Fair enough," I say grudgingly. "But what was with the whole GP act? I'm not genetically pure, and you know that."
He looks at me knowingly. "Yes, I know better than anyone. But if Viktor thought that you were genetically damaged, there would have been no reason to torture you; he would have simply let you be killed. You see, to Viktor, everything is about revenge. If it doesn't directly benefit his plan, it's not worth his time. But your 'genetic purity' aggravated him enough to buy you an extra week and a half before your death. And if you weren't tortured, I never would have been able to rescue you. My ability to access your cell without question was the key to this entire escape. "
"What about you? Why didn't he kill you?"
"They nearly did. But Viktor believed my story enough to give me a chance. They never knew I was a GP. It would have been my one way ticket to death row."
He sighs and stares out into the darkness, where it has begun to rain. The pattering echoes off the canyon walls and drowns the last of the flames. I bring the blanket a little closer as the wind whistles through the cave.
"I truly am sorry," he says. I look at him, perplexed.
"I know."
"I could have done more to get you out. I tried to warn you, to let you know, but I was too selfish and worried for my own good—"
"Matthew," I say, but he just continues.
"If I had only thought my plan through, we could all have been much safer, neither of us would have had these injuries, we wouldn't be sitting here in a damp cave, having just fought for our lives—"
"Matthew," I say, louder this time. He pauses and looks up, his eyes pooling with worry.
"You did what you had to," I say softly. "Your decisions saved my life, and probably countless others, as soon as we get back home. You sacrificed finding out about Viktor's secret plan just to help me. If that's not heroism, I don't know what is."
He smiles faintly, but the moment quickly dissipates. "I'm sure he wouldn't have told me the plan anyways. Never in million years would Viktor trust someone else with his plans."
Something clicks inside of my mind. "Who are the other leaders?"
"Marcus and someone else. He never mentioned a name, but I've also never seen him with my own eyes, so he's either at another compound, or back at the city."
"The traitor…" I whisper to myself.
"What?" asks Matthew.
"The traitor," I say louder so he can hear. "Someone told Marcus that I was making the trip to the fringe. And it had to be someone in the city, because no one else knew. We have to get back and warn the others; they could be in serious danger." I can feel my heart racing.
"Hey, it's not likely that they're going to just launch an attack. No one knows we've escaped, so I'm sure whoever it is will just continue to live undercover until Viktor gets the word out. We have at least three days, but right now, we need to rest so we'll be ready for the journey to the town tomorrow."
He's right—my body aches more than ever. I barely manage to move into a sleeping position before my eyelids start to droop. Matthew puts out the light and all I can see are the hundreds of stars dappling the night sky.
We never had anything like it back in Chicago, but out here—especially now that there's no compound—you can see the stars clearly. I fall asleep thinking about everyone back home and how nice of a change it is to finally have something beautiful to look at.