Chapter 22: Tobias – Searching

I hate fighting with Tris, hate everything about it, especially now. My mind is still mired in the memory I showed Caleb yesterday, and it hurt to watch Tris leave like that, without even looking at me. It felt like physical pain, as if she ripped part of me away and carried it with her. Why does she have to be so stubborn sometimes?

It's not like I wanted us to go separate ways today, but it would have been worse to defy Amar in front of everyone. I know from my time training initiates how important it is to establish authority up front. You can never really do it later. And this mission will be far more dangerous if the others don't follow Amar's lead, if they don't obey his orders quickly and without question. No, I had to make it clear he was in charge. I just wish Tris had understood.

I grit my teeth in frustration. I don't even know when I'll have a chance to explain, assuming she'll let me. It's not like there's any privacy in this group.

"There's another station on the left side," Christina calls, interrupting my thoughts, and I force my attention back to the present. This is no time to be unfocused.

The others surround the pumps as they did at the last station, facing outwards, guns ready, while I check to see if there's anything we can use here. My father taught me years ago how to get gas from a station without electricity, but it's often not possible. You need a manual crank, or a backup generator, or access to the underground tank, or a way to power the pump from a vehicle's engine. This station doesn't provide any of that.

"No luck," I tell the others. "Let's move on."

Christina and Cara walk along one side of the road, talking occasionally in quiet voices. I keep a loose eye on Christina's leg, watching for signs of weakness that will get us into trouble later. So far, though, I have to give her credit. She's keeping up a good pace without complaining.

Peter migrates closer to me as we continue, and it occurs to me that I never had a chance to ask him about his motives before we left. This is probably the best opportunity I'll get.

"Exactly why did you come on this mission?" I ask him bluntly, my eyes shifting between him and the road ahead.

He looks at me with mild surprise. I suppose it is a much more Candor-like question than I normally ask.

"Well? Aren't you going to threaten to hurt me if I don't answer?" he prompts.

A twinge goes through me as I realize how many times I've done exactly that. Now that I know his background is like mine, it feels wrong to do it again. Instead, I look around at the shattered roads and empty city and respond, "No, but if I don't think we can trust you, you're not coming with us. So, decide now if you want to live here on your own or give me an honest answer."

Peter gazes at our surroundings, and I can tell he's actually considering it. Maybe he's right. There's plenty of wildlife to eat here, and with weapons and a plethora of empty buildings to use as his home, he could probably do fine until the war is resolved.

Just as I think he's decided to go that route, he answers me. "I came along because the safest place to be is wherever the Stiff is."

I cock an eyebrow at him. He can't possibly be serious. But he shrugs and says, "It's not like there are a bunch of choices. The city's coming under attack, and the rebels are all going to fight, so that's out. And everyone else is under mind control – and there's no way I'm living like that. But somehow she always ends up getting what she wants, no matter what dumb thing she does that should get her killed. So, all things considered…I'll stick with her."

For a moment, I stare at him, forgetting to keep checking our surroundings as I try again to fathom how his mind works. Tris has earned every good thing she's managed to scrape out of this world, and she's suffered more than most people have – far more than she deserves. How can he see that as getting what she wants?

"You're not exactly winning me over," I finally growl.

He rolls his eyes. "There's that threatening tone. I knew it couldn't hide for long." I keep my gaze fixed on him, and eventually he adds, "Look, just don't expect me to die for any of you. Because I won't do that. But it's not like I'm going to turn you in or anything. It's better for me if this thing succeeds."

"And will you help us succeed?" I ask. "Enough to make it worthwhile to bring you?"

"Yes," he says in mild annoyance. "I'm not worthless, you know."

I sigh, remembering to look around again as I think about that. It's true that he has skills – it's just hard to know who he'll use them to support. I rub the back of my neck and say, "You're not exactly the most loyal person, so I need more than that. Convince me you care if we win."

He looks away, and again I think he's not going to answer, but finally he says, "I don't want my mom to die." He doesn't meet my eyes, and it's clear he doesn't want to continue, but after another moment he does. "She took me in after…well, when I had nowhere else to go. Because of her, I was able to live in a faction and get enough to eat, and I was safe." He looks at me defiantly and says, "I won't die for her either, just so we're straight, but I'll help you for her sake."

I try to decide whether or not to believe him. When I saw him in Erudite after the attack, just before Tori had everyone come after me, it was clear he'd lost someone. And it definitely upset him, as much as anything upsets Peter. He must have lost his adoptive father. It's possible that's motivating him to do more this time, to protect his adoptive mother. It's also possible that he's lying, but I don't think so, and I'm generally a good judge of that. I decide it's worth the chance.

"Okay–" I start, before the sound of a distant gunshot cuts me off.

We spring to alertness, looking around quickly, guns at the ready. There's nothing in sight, and for a second I allow myself to hope that someone got jumpy and fired at a squirrel. The hope disappears with the second shot.

"Get behind those trees," I say, my voice low, as I gesture to a clump by the side of the road. The others obey me instantly.

More shots sound, still distant. "They're coming from that direction," Margot says tensely, pointing, but I don't bother to look. I already know which group has come under fire. Tris'.

I control my panic. This is my group, and I have a duty to give them directions before I can go help her. Looking at Christina's leg, I make a quick decision.

"Christina, you and Cara return to the vehicles and guard them. If the others come back, let them know that Amar's group is under attack – up to four people can take the SUV and help, but the others need to keep guarding the van. If we lose it, we lose this mission." Christina's eyes are wide, but she nods, and she and Cara set off immediately.

I turn to Margot and Peter and say, "We need to try to help Amar's group." I don't say Tris' name, but of course they know I'm thinking it. "I'm going to run as fast as I can, and that's very fast. If I get ahead of you, just keep going. Stay under cover as much as you can, but get there."

I look at Peter and add, "This is your chance to prove you're useful." I don't wait for his reaction. Instead, I let the adrenaline pump through me, pushing my legs as fast as they can go. I'm vaguely aware of the other two running behind me, trying to keep up.

We race down street after street, crashing through wildly overgrown yards and patches of trees. My lungs burn fiercely, but I refuse to slow down. The gunfire continues, which at least means that someone from our side is still alive, still fighting back. Please let that include Tris.

It's worse when the silence returns. The fear tightens its grip around my stomach, making it even harder to breathe as my thoughts race through the same loop with each step. Her face through the tiny window of my Erudite cell. Her back as she walked away from me this morning. God, don't let that be the last time I see her alive.

I keep up my frantic pace, pounding down another street. Without the gunfire, I'm not entirely sure I'm going the right direction, but I think this is the street they headed down earlier. It must be.

I'm halfway across an abandoned shopping center when I hear more shots. Again, they're distant, but this time they're coming from my left. I don't know if that means I'm heading the wrong direction or if a second group has come under attack. I stop, panting heavily as I try to figure out what to do.

Another round fires, and I'm sure it's farther away than the original shots we heard. That must mean it's a second attack, going after another group of ours. As bad as that is, I can't take my mind off Tris, and I know I have to find her before trying to help the others. My feet begin moving again, in the same direction as before. I hope it's the right one.

I pound my way across the rest of the shopping center before I realize I can hear the rumble of an engine. It's not coming from where we parked, which means it must be an enemy vehicle. Dread fills me, sending tendrils of ice through every vein in my body. Amar must have lost the battle.

For a second, the panic runs rampant through me, but I've had enough practice controlling it to manage even now. I push it down ruthlessly, forcing my mind to think again as I scramble behind the nearest tree. If nothing else, I know that NUSA takes prisoners so they can drug them for information. And Amar would do everything possible to ensure Tris was the last one standing, which means the enemy would want to capture her, not kill her. So, there's a good chance she's still alive, and that means I need to focus on rescuing her.

I slow my breathing as I aim my gun carefully at the middle of the road and click the safety off. And then I wait.

An enormous green and brown vehicle lumbers into view, bumping wildly as it goes down the street too fast. I aim at the driver, my finger hovering over the trigger. But something stops me. It takes me a second to realize I'm thinking of my own words from earlier, to be careful before shooting. I look more closely, and then I'm running out into the road, waving my arms crazily to flag them down.

"Amar!" I roar at the top of my lungs. He's driving.

The vehicle screeches to a halt, but even over the noise it makes, I hear Tris' voice as she shouts, "Tobias!" Relief floods through me, weakening me and strengthening me at the same time. She's alive. Thank God.

A door at the end of the vehicle opens, and Tris leaps out, racing at me as fast as I'm heading for her. We crash into each other, our arms and bodies pulling us together so fiercely there's no room for air between us. I press my face into her hair and hold her like I'll never let go. Tears burn behind my eyes, but I stop them. This is still an urgent situation. I have to maintain control.

As if to emphasize that, another burst of gunfire sounds in the distance. I force myself to step back from Tris, though I grip her hand tightly and pull her with me as I approach the driver's door.

Amar looks at me tensely, and beside him I can see Pari watching the road ahead. Before either of them can speak, I say, "Margot and Peter are right behind me. Can we wait for them?"

"If they're quick," Amar snaps. "But if they're not here within two minutes, we leave without them. They'll have the sense to go back to the van if they can't find you."

"What happened to Christina and Cara?" Tris asks, her voice filled with worry.

I squeeze her hand reassuringly. "They're fine. I sent them back to guard the van." Looking at Amar, I add, "Christina couldn't keep up, with her leg, so it seemed like the best option." His eyes narrow a bit, but he doesn't say anything. I suspect he's wondering if I abandoned my group to come after Tris. He may be right to wonder.

"What happened?" I ask, changing the subject.

"NUSA military," Amar answers shortly. "They ambushed us at a gas station." The words are eerily like Olivia's back in the bomb shelter. "We've never seen them on this route before, but they're obviously much more spread out than we thought."

Tris adds, "They were eight of them there, but given the size of this vehicle, we think they were part of a larger group." I nod, hoping there's only one vehicle's worth of soldiers in this city.

Amar looks beyond me and says, "There they are! Get them in back with you, and let's go." I turn and see two figures racing toward us from the direction I came. It occurs to me that they might attack us before realizing who we are, so I shout, "Peter! Margot! It's us!" As I repeat it, Amar joins in, and then Tris and Pari, until all four of us are chanting it in unison. I stop when the runners get close enough for me to see a smirk on Peter's face.

"Aw, a welcoming committee," he pants as he joins us. "And I thought you didn't care."

"Just get in the truck," Tris says, but I let Peter see the smile tugging at my mouth. We need to find a way to work together, and after all, humor is a better bonding agent than most. It's a starting point, anyway.

Caleb's eyes catch mine as we climb into the back of the vehicle. We've never gotten along, but he looks relieved to see me now. There's no one else in the truck with him, which means that Robert must be dead. I didn't know him well enough to feel a personal reaction, but this is another death that will haunt Tris. I grip her hand harder and pull her away from the others, toward a space that's as private as we can get. The truck starts moving as we sit.

As the bumpy motion hits us, I watch the others for a moment and realize that Caleb has gathered Peter and Margot so their backs are to us. His voice is loud as he begins explaining what happened. I frown a little, watching him. He actually seems to be trying to give me and Tris some time alone. I'm not sure what to make of that…. But I'm certainly willing to take the opportunity.

I wrap my hands around the back of her neck, running my fingers into her hair as I lean my forehead down to rest on hers. "Are you all right?" I murmur so only she can hear.

She starts to nod but then shakes her head instead. "Not really," she admits quietly. I give her time to put her thoughts into words, glad that she's talking to me about it, that she's not hiding her feelings like she did after she killed Will.

Her voice is strained as she says, "My oldest friend died today, and I didn't even notice."

I pull her to me, nestling her head in the curve between my neck and shoulder as I stroke her hair softly. "Things happen fast in battle. You can't see everything, no matter how hard you try. Don't blame yourself for being human." She nods, the movement pressing her face against me.

After a moment, she whispers, "I'm sorry I left the way I did earlier." Her voice catches, but she continues, "Even when I'm mad, I love you. You know that, right?"

My grip tightens as all the emotions from the last hour threaten to release themselves. I swallow hard, trying to hold myself together. This is no time to break down, not when we'll be back in danger within minutes. "I know," I finally say. "And I love you, too. Don't ever doubt that." She nods again, and I can feel her trembling.

I pull back a little, looking into her eyes. My fingers find her cheeks, caressing her smooth skin, and then I bring my lips to hers. I intend it to be a light kiss, since the others are still nearby, even if Caleb is distracting them nicely. But she twines her fingers through my hair and kisses me back with an intensity that takes away all thought. I pull her to me hungrily, and for a long time, there's nothing in the world except her. It scares me a bit how much I want this, how much I need it.

When we finally pull apart, I say, "We stay together from now on." I'm not going through another hour like the last one. "I'll talk to Amar about it."

She doesn't have time to respond before the vehicle pulls to a stop. There's a thump on the wall that separates the driving compartment from the back, and I know it's a signal to stay quiet. Silently, we gather by the door, guns in hand, waiting. It proves to be a long wait.