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I thought I was brave.
But I feel sick to my stomach. And for the first time since being in Dauntless, I feel scared.
The photos I held in my hand were shockingly obscene, but it did no justice when I saw the real thing. I hadn't really seen a dead body. Not in real life.
His lifeless form, sat still, on the cold metal bench top, which smelt strongly of bleach and disinfectant, washing away the lingering smells of blood and dirty chasm water.
Michael, the once sweet boy from Amity, had finally turned up after a few days missing. He lay before me, his eyes closed, pale, almost transparent, his once tan skin, white in comparison.
They had found him, last night, after walking into the scene subsequently hearing a small commotion.
As I was walking back from weaponry last night, I had only planned on going straight back to the apartment to cry a little more and sleep, but loud talking had pulled me away from the direction of housing to the edge of the chasm.
With each step I took, voices were muffled with panic, the occasional swearing added to each person's vocabulary. I stood in the corner of the doorway, peeking my head out to see the drama unfold. There was four older Dauntless men, each surrounding something, or someone, and I could see black rope dangling from one of their hands, the rest positioned near his feet.
"What do we do?" I couldn't quite tell which one of them spoke, but he sounded panicked, and the situation was sounding bad.
"I don't know" another one echoed.
"Call Eric."
Shit. Shit. I wanted to know what was happening, but if I stayed, there was a high chance that I would be caught out by Eric and the others. My head bopped up and down, until I caught the small unassuming red dot, flashing in the corner of the wall.
Four.
I drew a metal image of the Dauntless compound, trying to remember where Four said his station was. A floor above the chasm, two lefts and a right. I started walking.
By the time I had arrived at the intelligence sect of Dauntless, many soldiers had left for the night, and only a couple still remained, including Four. Without drawing to much attention to myself, I quietly walked up to him, my hair, sat low and curled, perfect for hiding my face. By the time I had reached him, he had the camera screen already on the scene at the chasm. My hand tapped on his back, and with a swift turn of his face he had acknowledged and realised it was me. He pulled a chair up, motioning for me to sit.
We had sat there for only a couple of minutes, in silence, by the time Eric had arrived at the scene. His large form was positioned away from the camera, as if he was trying to hide the fact he was there.
"Is there any sound." I whispered to Four. He gave me only a shake of his head.
"They're not talking. Strange." Four mumbled under his breathe, a frown had formed, worry lines appearing. Why would Eric not speak, or any of them for that matter. Because they're hiding something. She was right, and the scene unfolding before our eyes was adding to the evidence. Eric had motioned them to lift whatever was on the ground, and each member had bent down in unison, almost synchronised to perfection.
Eric had finally turned around, yet still blocking whatever the men were carrying, his eyes were placed directly ahead of him, taking a step in the direction I came from. However he had stopped, his eyes flicking up to the camera, his stare was piercing, and I felt like he was staring straight into my soul. Though that was silly of me to think, as he has no idea I was even here. He motioned for the men to carry on, with only a wave of his hand, and it was until they passed the camera, that we realised what they were carrying.
"Is that..." my voice wavered, and I was unable to finish what I was going to say.
I felt a solid, yet soft hand on my shoulder, and turned to see Four's solemn face. "You need to go Lex. Eric will be here soon, and it will look too suspicious that you're here." I could only nod. My legs felt like jelly, and my heart was racing a million miles an hour. I willed my feet to move until they came to the door. I turned my head to look at the cameras once more. "I'm sorry Lex."
I stared at his body for the last time before Four pulled the white cloth back over his face, before stepping around the table, placing an arm around my shoulder, hugging me softly.
"Are you sure he didn't jump?" Though it was disgusting and shameful to think that Michael had taken his own life, I just didn't want to believe that anyone was really capable of killing someone. Four was adamant though that it was foul play, and my logical side agreed.
"He was suspected of being Divergent. And it was only in his fear landscape did they realise he was." Four took a deep sigh, looking like he had the whole world on his shoulders and any wrong move would be mean destruction. "You need to be careful. I think you should back away from Eric. We can get answers somewhere else. Not from him." he voice held a subtle pleading in them, but I only shook him off, shaking my head back and forth.
"No. I can handle myself, and besides no one suspects anything."
"Not yet. But the more you get wrapped in Eric's world, the more dangerous it becomes for you."
"I can handle myself Four. Besides we don't even know if Eric had a hand in this." I jutted my chin out to the lifeless form under the white sheet, scared if I used my hand that Four would see it trembling.
"Trust me, he did. Ask him about Amar the next time you're alone with him. You were born Candor, read his body language and tell me if his lying or deflects the question." With that sentiment Four had walked out of the morgue, leaving me in the chill.
I let out a large sigh, my head raised to look at the ceiling before I followed him out.
The Dauntless mourning gatherings were ironically a lively affair, and where mourning meant getting drunk to oblivion while partying a life 98% of Dauntless didn't even know existed. Eric led the precession, standing gallantly at the gantry, flask in hand as he eloquently spoke about the life of Michael, and his courage of taking his own life.
"Today, we stand together, not to mourn one's life, but to celebrate it. To celebrate Michael's achievements, and most importantly his courage, for leaving this world on his own terms, his beliefs and values follow with him. He was Dauntless to the core." Eric's words had a bite to them, like even he didn't truly believe what he was saying. "Let us raise our glasses." Those in the pit who held cups and flasks masked with alcohol raised them high. "To Michael."
"To Michael." The room echoed with their repeated words, everyone taking hearty gulps and sips of their drinks, laughing and some, only few, crying for the loss of a human life.
Katherine was sobbing quietly, her head tucked into the nook of Jayce's' arm, a flask of alcohol in his other, and taking sombre sips every now and then. Adam held onto Sarah's hand, while Mack looked between bored and at times disgusted. Either he thought taking one's life was not courageous or the celebration was unnecessary, I didn't know.
A flash of silver danced in front of my face, and it was until I paid closer inspection was it Jayce offering me his flask of alcohol. I denied it, and thanked him quietly before turning back to the gantry to find Eric had left, milling somewhere in the crowd.
"How are you holding up?" Katherine hiccupped, her face dotted with red splotches, her eyes held a distinct puff under them. My heart broke for her.
"I'm doing okay. I just need to get some air. Do you want to join me?" she reached out for my hand giving it a rough squeeze and shake of her head. Her head lent into Jayce's shoulder, his arm now around her. Giving them a gentle smile, I left to go collect my thoughts.
My hands had begun to turn white from the pressure of them clutching onto the railing of the bridge of the chasm. The celebration had ceased to lull, and so my head began to feel the repercussions of the music filling out the pit.
Four's words continued to mill around my head, his warning of Eric had made me more doubtful of this mission of mine more and more. But I was going to continue. Jax deserves it. I deserve to know answers.
With the traffic of dauntless soldiers walking in and out of the area, I hadn't realised who stood beside me, until the scent of his cologne invaded my smell. I avoided his gaze, afraid that I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face when asking him Four's imminent topic of conversation.
"Nice speech. I see Erudites eloquence is still ingrained in you." I could feel the vibrations of his scoff, or hearty laugh, whichever the case as I didn't look up, through the metal grate floor.
"Yeah, somethings we can't shake off." His response was light, peeking from my eyelashes I saw him take a swig of whatever liquid he had in his flask. I decided to turn to face him, my arm leaning on the metal rail guard, the other placed subtly on my hip.
"You really believe a word you just said about Michael? His suicide being brave?" My voice was laced with a hint of sarcasm, the rest was genuine curiosity.
He stood in silence for a minute, before turning and mimicking my position. His arm hung across the rail loosely, the flask in hand, his hooded eyes widened a fraction, hints of danger flickered across them, before a treacherous smirk appeared on his face.
"Of course. Its Dauntless motto." His voice was sickly sweet, talking to me if I were a child, a warning to stop treading on dangerous waters. But I was never one to back down.
"Really? So someone jumping to their death for no apparent reason is brave?" the fingers around his flask had become white, his jaw, chiselled and defined, was tensed. "Because I think that's the easy way out. But unless he didn't jump." My insides were churning with a sick feeling, and this cat and mouse game Eric and I were playing was not only dangerous and wild, but wouldn't end well, for any of us. It's for Jax.
He stepped closer, until hot breath evaded my senses. My hip felt a heavy squeeze, his hand pushed hard against my hip bone, his bone crushing fingers digging into my soft flesh.
"And what makes you think he didn't jump?" His voice was low, mixed with seductiveness and danger.
Swallowing the lump in my throat that had formed, I stepped closer to him, his hand still placed on my hip. My fingers reached out to the ones holding onto his flask. I took it from his grasp, and opened, taking a hearty gulp. It was much heavier than beer, the bitterness cutting through as it slid down my throat. Whisky.
"Because Michael wouldn't have." My eyes flickered to his, waiting to see his response. He gave me none. I continued. "What do you think Eric? Did he jump?"
"There is always someone. Every year."
"Was it Amar or Jax last year then?" his eyes grew wider with my confession, his fingers had left my hip in a matter of mere seconds, before his fingers shot up to capture my face. His hand pressed hard around my jaw, pushing my face up so my eyes could meet his, forcing them to stay there.
"Stop questioning me." Each word come out more venomous than the other through gritted teeth.
"Why? Afraid I'll find out all your dirty secrets. What are you hiding?" It was hard to move my mouth, but I prevailed, with some difficulty.
"Nothing for you to know."
"Four was right. You keep evading the question. Just spit it out. I deserve to know where my brother is buried. I know he's dead. Just tell me what they did with him. What you did with him."
The pressure on my jaw was released, as he stepped two paces back from me. He wiped a hand over his face, and in this light he looked like he had aged ten years.
"You can tell Four I had nothing to do with Amar." There was no deception in his eyes, his voice had a sense of defeat in them. His telling the truth. I know.
"And Jax?" My voice wavered, my fingers had laced together as I was wringing them around, and a few stray tears slivered down my cheeks.
He hung his head low in a very uncharacteristic manner, wisping a hand through his hair. He turned his face away, and heavy sigh left his lips, before turning back to me. His features looked odd, like he was in some sort of pain. His once smooth forehead, now had creases of worry, his mouth turned upside down.
"If I tell you. I lose you." His words hit me like a tonne of bricks, each one heavier than the other.
My legs willed themselves to walk, and they continued too until I was only a few inches away from him. In this new light I saw just how much hurt he was in. But this was Eric, I was talking about. He never looked like he could care about anyone, let alone thinking of losing them as something that would hurt.
I shot my arm up, placing it gently on his arm, giving him a small squeeze. "Please. I need to know."
He took a sharp intake of breathe before looking straight into my eyes. "You're brother knew too much. He began to suspect something odd was happening in Dauntless, and so they got rid of him."
I hadn't realised I was holding my breath, until I released for air. "What do you mean got rid of him?"
"They killed him."
"Who?"
"I can't tell you."
"Who Eric? You?" There was a beat of hesitation, followed some footsteps around us. It looked like the gathering had come to an end, and everyone started to leave back to their perspective living areas. My hand held on tighter to Eric's, forcing him to stay. In matter of seconds, his large, rough hand caught my arm, yanking it off his, and pulled me down the tunnel. His legs were longer than mine, and his is ease in walking at a brisk pace had me running to keep up with him.
This continued for a few minutes until he stopped suddenly at a door. He let go of me to fish something out of his pocket, and with its jingling I was safe to assume they were his keys. A click had sounded and the turning of a knob, his heavy hand came to rest on my back until I felt some form of pressure as I was pushed through his open door, into a clean and crisp space of blacks and dark browns of his living room.
His living area was filled with only necessities; black leather couch, with two matching brown leather cushions, a glassed coffee table and recliner. What surprised me the most was his grand dark timber book case which had been encased with hundreds of books. His kitchen was much the same, small clean and tidy. As I moved more into his living space, I could tell out the double doors which were closed would lead to some form of a bedroom and a bathroom, much like mine and Katherine's apartment. But I wasn't here to inspect his home.
I turned to face him. He was leaning against the wall, with one foot holding his lean, muscular figure up, with his hands crossed between his chest, his eyes watching my mine.
"Well, we're away from prying eyes and ears. You dragged me here for a reason Eric. Spill." I mocked his stance, my body leaning against his recliner, my hands crossed too across my chest.
His eyes turned dark, the metallic grey now swam with an intensity that was alluring and dangerous at the same time.
"I didn't kill your brother."
"Fine, you didn't kill him. Who the fuck did then?" I was never one to swear but Eric's constant deflection of the subject was making me very angry.
His patience had worn thin, because the heavy padding of his boots warned me that in a matter of seconds I was going to either be yelled at, or pushed and prodded until I was out the door.
He was in front of me, his hands now by his side in fists, his jaw was back to being clenched, and his eyes swam with ferocity. Do not push him Lex.
"The vein on your forehead will pop if you clench any harder." Damn it.
I stepped away from the back of the recliner, but with each step I made backward he made one forward until my legs hit solid timber, the closed sliding doors which led to his bedroom.
His words were snarled, reminding me of a fictional fire breathing lizard my brother used to be enamoured with. "You want answers don't you? What to know all my dirty secrets? I like this game Lex. I like how you need me to gain access to answers. So let's keep playing this little game, because trust me you'll come crawling to me for them."
Hot fingers groped my neck, his thumb flicking over my lower lip. I watched his eyes, while his tongue darted out from between his own lips. Pushing my hips into his, my hand darted out to catch the side of his cheek. His stubble grazed over my fingers, and I have to say it's quite nice to touch. His mood swayed constantly, and I would too play like him if I was going to get more out of him.
"Hmm…should be fun." my lips, wet, came in contact with his cheek, this time my lips felt his 5o'clock shade, my teeth grazing down to the side of his neck. I bit down hard; soft enough to leave a mark but not enough to penetrate any blood. His grip loosens, and I step around his now surprised body. "Has anyone never told you not to play truth or dare with a Candor?" My voice lingers until I reach his front door.
His fingers still linger on his neck, his face laced with a devilish humour. "But you aren't Candor. You're Dauntless, right?"
My lips perk up into a smirk. "Yeah. And you're not Erudite anymore. Right?" I don't wait for his answer, and make my way out of his house, with a little more information. Yet I hear faint words come from his door.
"Smartass." I can't help but laugh, and for the first time it seems carefree.
"So what have you found out?"
"That I'm his weakness."
I look up to meet Four's eyes, and there's a glint to them.
"And that's my way in."
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