Chapter 19: Tris – Best Laid Plans

Christina, Uriah, and I take turns working with Cara on fighting techniques. It's odd to see someone from Erudite having so much difficulty grasping a subject, but I should know by now that intelligence doesn't make everything easy. Eventually, Uriah's patient repetition works, and Cara develops a passable level of skill in a few techniques. I try to tell myself it will be enough.

As I'm watching them spar yet again, I notice Tori looking at the "wall of weapons," as we've taken to calling it. For a moment, I think about how unlikely it is that we'll both survive the next week, and I realize that I need to at least try to mend our relationship before I leave. After everything she's done for me, I can't do otherwise. So, I walk over and stand beside her. We both look at the weapons.

"Hi," I say in my best attempt at a casual voice. It comes out tight and tense.

Tori glances at me, but then her eyes return to the guns. After what seems like a very long time, she asks, "Did Four calm down?"

"From when?" I ask curiously. I'm not trying to be smart – I'm just not certain when she last saw him – but her mouth curves with amusement.

"He does walk that line between calm and angry a lot, doesn't he?"

I shrug a little, not sure how to answer that statement. He doesn't usually seem angry to me…. But I seem to be the only one who sees the gentler side of him, so I decide to change the subject.

"You're helping to defend the city, aren't you?"

"Yes," she answers, directing her gaze at me more solidly now. "It took me a while to buy into all this, but I finally believe the danger is real." She gives a half shrug. "So, I guess I need to do my part, despite the bum leg and all." My stomach squirms uncomfortably. Does she blame me for that?

She must read the guilt in my face, because she sighs and says, "It's not entirely your fault – I was shot, after all. And I suppose when it comes down to it…I should have listened when you tried to stop me in Jeanine's lab. You'd earned that."

The statement makes me angry, because it's true. After everything I did to help Dauntless, I had earned the right to have its leaders listen to me. But I'm here to patch things up with Tori, so I grit my teeth and try to let the anger slide. It's difficult.

She gives me an evaluating look and finally suggests, "How about we call a truce?"

"A truce?" I weigh the word for a moment, trying to fit the concept into everything I've learned in my life.

Abnegation always taught that we have to give of ourselves completely, so a truce had no place there – only forgiveness, a total surrender to the other person's needs. And I'm not ready to do that, at least not yet. But a truce implies something different – setting the past aside for now and moving forward together. A fresh start. And as I look at Tori, the woman who kept me alive through initiation, I think maybe I can do that.

I nod, and the corners of Tori's mouth lift in response as she offers her hand to me Dauntless-style. I've never been good at shaking hands, but I give it my best shot. She has the grace to act like it was a good handshake.

"I do wish you luck, by the way," she comments. "I don't know a whole lot about what you're doing, but George says it's important. I hope it goes well."

"I take it you're talking to him again?"

"Yeah…. It's always been hard to stay mad at him." Her face turns serious again as she adds, "And it's not like I wanted him dead. I was just…angry about how much of my life I wasted on revenge."

I nod, but I don't know what to say. I've never faced a situation like hers before, and I don't know how I'd feel if I did. It's hard enough trying to figure out how to deal with Caleb.

Tori watches me for another moment and then says, "On that subject…. I've had enough revenge for a lifetime, so…if I don't get to see him before you go, tell Four that I'm not holding a grudge anymore. I'm still not thrilled with what he did, but all things considered, it doesn't seem that important now."

I know that's the best she can do, so I answer, "I'll tell him. And…thanks, Tori. For everything. I wouldn't be here if I'd had a different tester, you know."

A wry smile splits her face. "No, I suppose you wouldn't, Divergent. Tell you what, if you save the city, I'll claim some credit for it, and we'll call it even. Okay?"

I grin at her. "It's a deal."

Cara is tired but enthusiastic at dinner. She keeps trying her favorite self-defense grip on the food, with dubious results. Uriah laughs when she mangles the slice of bread she's handing him – until he realizes it's the last piece. Then, he gives her such a mournful look it cracks the rest of us up.

"Maybe you can piece it together with butter," Christina suggests, barely able to speak through her laughter. She proceeds to demonstrate, forming a massive ball of lumpy bread and wads of butter. She proclaims, "Good as new!" as she rolls it across the table to Uriah.

Somewhat to my disgust, he catches it and takes an enormous bite as if it's an apple. "Not bad…" he mumbles through the food, still grinning. But then his expression hardens at the sight of something behind me.

I turn around to see Tobias entering the room with Caleb. I tense immediately, knowing that they must have just talked, and that Caleb is officially coming with us. I turn back to the table so I don't have to look at my brother.

Tobias sits down next to me, and his hand grasps mine under the table. He clenches hard for a moment, and when I look at him, I realize his face is blotchy. It must have been a difficult discussion.

Part of me wants to be mad at his decision, but I had my chance to protest earlier and chose not to. There's no point in it now. Instead, I ask him quietly, "Are you okay?"

His voice is low as he answers, "I'm better now." I'm not sure what he means by that, but I suspect the answer has something to do with the way he's holding my hand and looking at me like he never wants to stop. I suppose talking to Caleb reminded him of being in Erudite, the same way it does for me. I squeeze his hand back, but I turn my gaze to the others, since I know Tobias won't want all their attention focused on him right now.

It turns out there's no need to worry about that. Christina, Uriah, and Cara are all staring at Caleb, who sat down on Tobias' other side. It's the first time he's joined us since we rescued him.

Not surprisingly, Christina is the first to react. "Why are you here?" she asks more loudly than necessary.

Caleb shrinks back like he wants to leave, but Tobias clamps a hand on his arm and answers sternly, "Because he's going with us, and we need to learn to work together."

"Are you kidding me?" Christina demands. "I barely get to go, and he's welcome along after everything he did?"

"I was under the serum," Caleb says quickly, his voice tense. "A really high dose…. I'm not like that now."

"Which doesn't mean you won't be again," Uriah states flatly. It's strange to hear such coldness in his voice, but of course he must wonder what role Caleb played in Marlene's death. It speaks volumes about him that he helped with the rescue despite that.

Caleb looks up almost defiantly. "No," he says loudly, "there are no guarantees – with any of us. But I know about the serum now, which means I can fight it better. And it takes a large dose to affect me – larger than for most of you. So, I'm not any more of a risk than you are."

I glare at him, annoyed. I'm not sure if it's because he sounds superior, or like he's not responsible for anything he did, or like he's attacking my friends.

Before I can say anything in response, Cara answers calmly. "That might be true, but the problem is we can't verify it. And if you're going to ask us to accept your statement on faith, I would suggest being less belligerent about it."

Caleb's cheeks turn red, and he stares at the table for a moment. I'm reminded of all the times he reprimanded me at our family's dinner table. It seems that his fellow Erudite has the power to shame him the same way. After a long pause, he sighs and mutters, "I didn't mean to be belligerent, and I am sorry for what I did. If you can't forgive me, I understand, but I'll do my best anyway."

Cara nods, and I can see that there's no real anger in her. That shouldn't surprise me. She found a way to forgive me for killing Will, and it must be a breeze in comparison for her to forgive Caleb.

She turns her gaze to Christina and adds, "And you should remember how you behaved under the simulation. The two scenarios aren't that different."

Christina's eyes narrow, but she bites back her response. I still don't know what she did under the simulation, and I don't want to, but whatever it is must still haunt her. After a moment, she says, "Point taken."

I can feel the tide turning – the others beginning to accept Caleb – and I don't like it. I look at Uriah, but not with any real hope. He's far too easy-going to join me in holding a grudge. Sure enough, his eyes are on Tobias, and I know he will take his cue from him, as he usually does. Tobias is practically a second brother to him, after all.

For a long moment, I stare at the table, knowing that now I'm the only hold-up, the only one who doesn't want to let my brother help us. Maybe if I refuse to look at Tobias, he'll give in and change his mind. But I know he won't. And honestly I wouldn't respect him if he did.

With a sigh, I finally look up and meet Tobias' gaze. His eyes are steady on mine, but I can't help but notice how bloodshot they are. It reminds me that he felt Caleb's betrayal almost as strongly as I did. He must be truly convinced that this is the right decision, or he would never have agreed to let my brother come with us, would never be holding him at this table until we come to some kind of terms.

And suddenly I feel tired, so tired of holding onto all this anger. I can't forgive Caleb, at least not yet, but I think of the truce Tori offered, and I realize that maybe I can do that much.

I clear my throat and look in my brother's general direction as I say quietly, "You'll have to earn forgiveness over time, but I'll give you the chance to do that."

Something in Caleb's expression breaks, and he looks at me with more depth of emotion than I've ever seen in him. His voice is hoarse as he says, "I won't let you down again. I swear."

It's all I can do to nod.

After dinner, Amar takes us back downstairs as he promised earlier. There's no discussion about who should come, but Caleb joins us, and no one stops him. The others Amar mentioned don't come – apparently, no one told them about it – and I'm glad. I still don't trust Peter, and I don't know how good the others are at planning.

Tobias and I fill our little group in on the bare bones of the plan. We don't say the name "Philadelphia" or give much detail on what we'll do when we reach the Control Computer, but we explain that we'll need to do reconnaissance in an extremely crowded city and then break into a skyscraper based on our findings.

Cara and Caleb immediately go into Erudite mode and begin thinking through logical options, but somewhat to my surprise, Christina and Uriah are just as helpful. The Dauntless do know more about tactics after all.

Together, we select weapons and a few key supplies from a storage room we didn't see earlier.

"This place has the coolest toys," Uriah says as he throws an object that curves around the room and returns to his hand – Amar called it a boomerang.

"Yeah," Christina agrees enthusiastically. "Like this," and she stretches some type of rope between her hands.

I look at it curiously. "What is that?"

"No idea," she says with a grin, "but it's cool."

"It's a bungee cord," Amar explains. "You can actually jump from a building on that, and it will stretch way down and then pull you back up again." Tobias looks a bit pale at the idea of jumping from a building on something stretchy and flimsy looking, but Christina quietly adds it to our growing pile of items to consider.

"We should all bring very large coats," Cara says thoughtfully. "That way, we can hide stuff on us as we walk around the city."

Caleb nods energetically, a little too eager to agree with her. "But they should be old," he adds, "so it looks like we're poor and have to wear whatever we can find. Otherwise, it might look suspicious." I don't say it aloud, but that's actually a pretty good idea.

We've been in the selection process for close to an hour when we hear a burst of noise coming from the stairway, and people begin streaming into the room. Anna, George, and Marcus are among them, but I don't know the others. They're talking loudly, in highly agitated tones, and it's immediately clear that something is very wrong.

Amar walks quickly toward them, and I hear him saying, "Via!" to a tall woman with red hair that is turning gray. She looks like she hasn't slept in days, and there's dried blood along the side of her face. Amar grasps her arm in greeting, and she gives him an extremely brief hug.

"Bad news, I'm afraid," she says hoarsely.

Anna walks past them to the wall of weapons and pins the map of NUSA up where we can all see it. "Olivia," she says in an attempt at calmness, "could you please repeat what you just told me?"

Olivia walks over the map and says tiredly, "NUSA has mobilized much faster than we expected. When we reached Indianapolis, there were already troops there. They ambushed us as we tried to get gas, and Mick and Tracy were killed instantly. Maya was badly injured, but we were able to get away and come up old highway 65." She runs her finger up a line that goes from Indianapolis to where Anna said our city is located. "We bombed the road around here, but we didn't get a good hit, and there's too much flat land around it. It won't delay them long. My guess is they'll be here in three or four days."

Silence greets her statement, and then Amar asks quietly, "Did Maya make it?" Olivia's mouth pulls into a tight line as she shakes her head. Her eyes are moist.

"Obviously, we should redirect our forces," Marcus states firmly. "There are multiple routes out of Indianapolis, but we can delay the troops' progress significantly if we bomb the major roads – most importantly, 55 and 57. We will also need to finish the job on 65." His eyes are cold as he looks at Olivia, as if she failed her mission. Her hands ball into fists in response, but she doesn't answer aloud.

Amar steps forward, saying, "We should also bomb 69. We'll pass right by it on our way, and it would be a sensible precaution."

"The difficulty with all of those roads," Anna says in frustration, "is that the land around them is flat. It doesn't do much good to bomb the pavement if the troops can just use the dirt instead. We're better off trying to extend the water barrier around the city."

"That's too unpredictable," a man I don't know says. "We could end up flooding the city or draining away some of the existing barrier."

"What choice do we have?" Anna demands. "We have to buy some time."

"What if we evacuate some of the Divergent population and bring them here?" someone else asks. "They could survive here for years, and then at least we could try again later if the current effort fails."

That leads to an explosion of conversation. After a few minutes, Anna shouts, "Stop it! We need to decide what to do about Amar and his group first, so they can get on their way." She turns to Amar and says, "Do you still want to take the other three vehicles?"

Amar hesitates, looking at the map. Finally, he says, "No, you need them more than we do, and it's obviously too late for our original plan anyway. Just give me two – ours and one more. We'll bomb 69 on the way and Pittsburgh after that. Maybe we can at least slow down the flow of troops coming here."

His eyes move to George, and there's an odd intensity in his voice as he adds, "Hold them off as long as you can, and we'll rush as much as we can from our end. It's the best we can do." George bites his lip and nods, looking deeply worried.

Anna turns to the others and says, "They'll need items they can sell – jewelry is the easiest, particularly if it has silver or gold. If you have anything they can use, give it to them now." And she walks over to us and hands me a gold band with a small but elegant diamond on it. It's clearly her wedding ring, and my fingers tremble slightly as I take it. She closes my hand around it, squeezing gently with both of her hands as she says, "Don't sell it if you don't have to, but I'd rather have you back than it." She gives me a quick hug, whispering in my ear, "Good luck, Tris."

I don't have time to answer because the moment she moves out of the way, other people come forward, pressing jewelry into my hands and murmuring encouragement.

Beside me, I see George holding Amar's gaze as he shakily hands him a ring – one that matches the ring on Amar's wedding finger. I close my eyes. I didn't even know they were a couple, and now they're being separated by war.

I turn automatically to Tobias, in time to see Marcus shoving two silver rings at him and saying coldly, "Your mother says hello." Fierce anger goes through me, and I'm about to tell Marcus that he can't come with us after all, but then he leaves to collect the rest of our group, and it's too late.

Within minutes, everything the crowd can give us has been stashed in our pockets, and we begin grabbing the weapons and supplies we gathered earlier.

"Just take the whole pile," Amar tells us. "We'll sort it in the van and dump what we don't need when we stop for gas."

I take a last desperate look around, trying to see if there's anything else we should bring, but there's no time. It's obvious that speed is more important than details right now, particularly since most of the plan has just been thrown out the window. So, I pick up my share of the supplies and follow the others out the door.

The rest of our group joins us as we climb the never-ending stairs, and then we're putting on coats someone found for us and are filing into the back of the van. Marcus and Amar sit up front to drive, and I see four strangers getting into a black SUV next to us. I had assumed that our group was splitting up to do the bombing, but apparently there were always additional people slated for that role. It makes me realize how little I know.

Tobias sits on the floor of the van, his back in a corner, and pulls me against him as Pari closes the doors. I lean into him in the blackness, feeling his arms tight around me, and for a moment, I wish fiercely that we had one more night here to spend together – one more night to be alone. But then the engine rumbles to life, and we begin the long drive into the cold darkness. It's not a good beginning.