Chapter 23: Tris – Camouflage
When the door finally opens, we find ourselves pointing our guns at Amar. He ignores them completely as he climbs rapidly into the truck.
"Are there uniforms in there?" he asks urgently, gesturing to the storage containers Caleb and I explored earlier.
"Yes," I answer quickly as Caleb leaps to open the right compartment. He hands clothing to Amar, who begins stripping right in front of us. I hastily avert my eyes.
"All of you need to change too!" he commands forcefully. "Then, swap places with one of the others." He gestures outside, and I realize others from our group must be out there. I feel my heart pounding as I wonder which of them are safe…and which aren't. But this clearly isn't the time to ask. I'll find out soon enough.
Caleb begins tossing uniforms to the rest of us, and we all change as quickly as we can. I know there isn't time to worry about who sees me, but despite that, I'm glad when Tobias positions himself between me and Peter to shield me from view.
"What's going on?" Tobias asks Amar, his voice muffled by the shirt over his head.
Amar answers curtly. "NUSA military are everywhere, so we're trying camouflage." He finishes putting his shoes back on and begins rummaging in the compartments for weapons. I debate helping him, but then Caleb starts to provide an inventory of what we found earlier, and I decide I can't wait any longer to see who's outside the truck.
I move to the doorway, looking around as I roll my pant legs up enough times to get my shoes on again. The vehicle is parked at the side of the road, partly hidden by trees. People stand guard at regular intervals around the truck, their backs to us. With relief, I recognize Christina's tall form and Cara's unmistakable posture among them. Uriah and Lauren are nowhere to be seen. I let myself hope they're guarding the front of the vehicle.
Tobias comes up beside me, and without a word, we both leap to the ground. Instinctively, I head for Christina, grabbing her arm as I step beside her. She draws me into a quick hug before racing for the truck, Cara beside her. As they move out of the way, I see Marcus' slender frame and realize that he's posted on Tobias' other side. A shudder runs through me at the sight of my boyfriend standing in his father's shadow.
Marcus' eyes pass over me, a trace of a smile curving his mouth as he sees my shudder. I tense immediately, hardening my expression. It's a bad idea to show weakness around him.
"What happened to your group?" I ask him coldly.
He glances at Tobias, who ignores him, and then back at me before he resumes looking outward. His voice is cool as he answers. "Shortly after we departed, we saw a vehicle like this one driving in Priscilla's direction." I don't know the name; presumably, she was in the SUV.
"We were able to avoid detection," he continues, "but Lauren felt it prudent to warn the other groups. Lisa and I headed after you while she and Uriah went after Priscilla." He purses his lips in distaste. "Judging by the subsequent gunfire, something went wrong, but I have no details on what."
I bite my lip, tension gripping my stomach as I think of Uriah's kind face. Not him, too. Please not him. I find myself shifting just a little toward Tobias, and he leans infinitesimally closer to me so we can draw strength from each other as we wait. The sun shines brightly overhead, hiding the cruelty of this day, and the only sounds are quiet movements from the people around us and the occasional activity of small animals in the trees by the road. The gunfire has stopped, at least for now. I don't know if that's good or bad.
Amar's low voice sounds behind us, making me jump. "Let's go. Everyone – in the truck, now!" He pauses and adds, "Marcus, you'll have to change as we move."
I take in the others with a quick look and realize that Marcus is the only one still in faction clothes. No one relieved him. I'm not sure if it's because they all dislike him or because he was talking with me, but I can't say it bothers me that he'll have to undress in front of everyone. After all his years of hiding behind Abnegation's cloak of privacy, there's something satisfying about literally stripping him of that protection.
Still, I don't watch as he changes his clothes, and I notice that Tobias stares determinedly at the floor the entire time. That's not really surprising; he avoids looking at Marcus even under good circumstances, and I'm sure he doesn't want to see the anger building behind those dark eyes right now. I take his hand and hold it hard. He returns the grip, pulling me against his shoulder as we bump along the road, Uriah and Lauren's faces floating in my mind.
Please be alive. But even if they are, I have to wonder if we can find them, or if they'll hide from us in our stolen vehicle and uniforms. They might even attack us, not realizing who we are. It's amazing that Tobias recognized us the way he did, but of course Tobias is always amazing. A surge of pride goes through me as I look at him, thinking of the number of times he's handled a situation exactly right. I can only hope that Lauren and Uriah together have half as much sense.
After a few more minutes, the vehicle pulls to a stop. There's a double-tap on the wall between the driving compartment and the back, and Margot immediately jumps to her feet in response, gathering Peter and Christina to her. I frown, watching them. Amar must have arranged for them to do something, but what? And why them? I look at Tobias and see that his mouth is set in a line, and suddenly it dawns on me. Out of the people in the back of the truck, they're the best fighters – if you exclude Tobias and me. And Amar is determined to keep us safe.
I bite my lip, uncertain if I'm willing to go along with his decision, but Tobias maintains his grip on my hand and stays solidly in his seat. He's choosing to obey, or perhaps choosing to keep me out of danger. My eyes meet Caleb's on the other side of the truck, and I see grim determination in his expression. He's probably under orders to keep me from going anywhere.
A noise of frustration comes out of me as Christina leaps from the truck, going into danger right in front of me while I stay sheltered in here. I hate this.
"We all have jobs to do," Tobias says. I can tell from the tension in his voice that he doesn't like this any more than I do, but he stays rigidly still. "This one isn't ours, and it will only make things worse if we get in the way."
I stare at him, trying to believe him or convince him – I'm not sure which – but he stares back with his instructor face, and I finally look down, swallowing hard. I screw my eyes closed, focusing on the sounds outside the truck: loud voices and pounding feet, and then gunfire. Tobias yanks me to the floor, beneath window level, and the others dive down too, seeking as much shelter as we can get.
From where I'm lying, I lift my gun and aim it at the door, just in case. Tobias' body is half-covering mine, but he does the same thing, his arm hovering just above mine, and again the others follow our lead. Even when we're hiding, Tobias is the instructor in this group.
It seems to take forever before I hear a familiar voice. Amar is shouting, "Peter, get her other side! All of you, in, now!" I start to scramble up to get the door, but Cara is already there, and then people are piling in so quickly I can't see faces, can't tell who's safe. Tobias pushes me back to the floor as more gunshots sound, but the truck is moving now, flying so fast over the broken roads that it's impossible to stand, and everyone falls into a heap of bodies.
Behind us, I hear an explosion, followed by a screeching of tires and an incredibly loud crash. I hope that means no one is after us anymore.
"Lauren needs help," a tense male voice says, and I feel an odd mixture of panic and relief. At least Uriah is safe.
"How badly hurt is she?" That's Cara.
Lauren answers in a pained voice, "I won't be jumping on trains any time soon…."
"She was shot in the side," Christina says, and again I feel that mixture of emotions. My closest friends have survived, at least for now.
I hear shifting on the floor and see Caleb struggling to get the medical kit down from the wall while Cara makes her way toward a form. As my eyes follow her, I finally see Lauren. Her entire left side is covered with deep red liquid. It looks far worse than her light words made it sound.
Pulling myself up on my hands and knees, I join them, grasping Lauren's hand and holding it tightly. Caleb hauls the medical kit over to Cara, who is carefully peeling the shirt away from the wound. My stomach turns at the sight of the bloody hole, but I force myself to ignore the nausea. We have to stop the bleeding quickly, or the injury could easily turn fatal.
Beside me, Uriah is watching Lauren, concern etched into his features. There's a large bruise starting on the side of his head, and for the first time it occurs to me to wonder who else is injured, or didn't return. A stab of guilt goes through me. Once I realized my friends were safe, I stopped worrying, but there are others in this group too. And they're just as human as those I happen to know.
"Did we lose anyone?" I ask quietly.
There's a moment of silence, and then a voice I don't know answers, "Paul and Mona."
The guilt deepens. We were never allowed to meet them, in the goal of making sure they couldn't reveal information about us. And now we never will meet them. I think of what Caleb said about Robert, that he died alone, and I wonder if these two were lonely at the end, abandoned in the heat of battle, unknown to most of us.
Lauren groans in pain, and I focus my attention back on her. There's so much blood – too much. I try not to think of Lynn dying as I held her hand, or Marlene stepping off the roof, or Robert dead on the pavement, or Al's bloated body being pulled from the chasm…. And those aren't even the worst deaths I've seen. Suddenly, I feel far older than my sixteen years.
"We've been driving for a while," Caleb says abruptly, startling me out of my thoughts. "Aren't we going back to the van?" The comment seems out of place until I realize he wants the medical supplies we brought with us. They must be better than what the truck has available.
"No," Christina says tightly, "some of the troops found it. There's no going back to it or the SUV."
My heart sinks at her words, and I blink back tears as I stare at Cara's frantic efforts to staunch Lauren's bleeding. So far, nothing has gone right with this plan. We haven't even hit the dangerous part yet, and we've already lost three people and all of the supplies we brought with us. And we've been reduced to treating a wound like this in a moving vehicle…. This entire mission is starting to look hopeless.
Margot must feel the same way, because her next words seem to be an attempt to cheer herself up. "We're better off in this thing anyway. With all the military around, we'll be less conspicuous this way." No one answers her.
Somehow, Lauren is still alive when the truck comes to a stop again. We don't know if there's a bullet left inside her or not – no one wants to try exploratory surgery in a moving vehicle – but the visible bleeding has slowed from all the pressure we've been applying, and she's still conscious.
As the truck stops, the man I don't know opens the back door, holding his gun ready while he surveys the view behind us. But the only person in sight is Amar. As before, he climbs in with us, his eyes resting on Lauren for a moment before he addresses all of us.
"Well, that certainly didn't go the way we wanted," he says grimly, "but there doesn't seem to be anyone in pursuit at this point." He sighs, running a hand up the back of his neck. "Hopefully, I can give you ten minutes to get her stable, but then we have to move again."
Cara nods, and she and Caleb immediately start working on Lauren again. I want to help but realize quickly that I'm just in the way, so I shift back to give them room.
Amar is looking at a woman I don't know; she must be the one Marcus called Priscilla. "We have very limited options right now," Amar says tightly, "so we're going to drive this thing to Pittsburgh, with all of us in it. That obviously poses problems for your part of the mission. We have no bomb and no vehicle for you…and very limited drinking water."
There's an uncomfortable silence, and then Priscilla says, "We'll have to contact the rebels there. I know a couple of people we can probably still trust, at least for a few more days, until their water supply runs out. They'll help us hit a target before then."
The man I don't know nods in agreement, his expression bitter. "We always knew it was a suicide mission. We'll find a way to take something out with us." Amar nods darkly, but the thought appalls me. There must be a better option than this.
"There are abandoned vehicles all over the place back home," I say. "There's got to be somewhere to pick up another one on the way." I look at Priscilla. "If we do that, you could go back and warn the others that this road isn't safe anymore, and you could take Lauren with you. That would be a better use of all your lives than dying for a mission that's already in shambles."
Priscilla shakes her head, a strained expression on her face. "With military all over the place, there's no way we'd make it. And stopping for a vehicle would be dangerous for all of you. We need to do what we came along to do."
I shake my head vigorously, trying to come up with an argument she'll hear, but strangely, she smiles a little. "I don't expect you to understand. You're too young, and you've never lived in NUSA. But we know what our choices are. We won't live under mind control, and we already decided long ago we were willing to die fighting back."
The man speaks up, his voice rough. "Just make it worthwhile, okay?"
"We will," Tobias says firmly, and I look at him in surprise. His gaze holds each of theirs for a moment in an expression of respect, acknowledging their sacrifice soldier to soldier. I remember how he reacted to the idea of me turning myself in to Jeanine, and I can't help but feel it's hypocritical of him to accept this action from them and not me. But I suppose I can say the same thing about myself. I was willing to die for others; how much right do I have to fight the same decision from them?
Amar's mouth pulls into a line. "Come sit up front," he says to them, "so we can figure out the details."
As they turn to go, Marcus speaks up. "What about Beatrice?" he asks Amar.
"What about her?" Tobias immediately responds, venom in his voice.
Marcus' tone is cold when he answers. "Since you obviously haven't noticed, allow me to point out that she's small and appears younger than her real age. And that uniform she is wearing is obviously far too large for her. All of that will attract unwanted attention as we attempt to blend in with an existing military structure."
Tobias opens his mouth to protest, but Marcus overrides him firmly. "I suggest we consider a different role for her."
I glare at him furiously. "What exactly do you have in mind?"
He turns his focus to me. "We need an excuse to travel toward Pittsburgh when everyone else is moving in the opposite direction. If you were to play the role of our prisoner, that would allow us to pretend that we are transporting you back to an established base. It would also give us an explanation to use for Lauren's injuries."
The words make me grit my teeth, and my first instinct is to refuse, vehemently, but the problem is he's right. I glance at Tobias and can tell he's come to the same conclusion – and that he doesn't want to agree with Marcus either. Fortunately, we don't have to.
"That's a valid point," Amar says levelly. Raising an eyebrow at me, he adds, "And it's actually a good way to get you there safely, since people rarely shoot someone who's already in custody." He looks at Caleb, probably trying to determine if we resemble each other enough to tip anyone off, but I already know we don't. After a moment, he clearly realizes that.
Turning back to me, he says, "Unless you have a major objection, you're now our prisoner."
I sigh. "Fine. But you don't have to keep my hands tied the whole time, do you?"
Amar smiles slightly. "We should be okay faking that most of the trip. Go ahead and change back into your regular clothes." He looks at Uriah and adds, "Hide the rest of the clothes. We'll probably need them later." And then he leaves with Priscilla and the man whose name I still don't know. I wonder if I'll ever learn it before he dies.
Pari climbs in with us as I rummage through the clothing we discarded earlier until I find mine. Tobias stands with his back to me, his arms crossed in front of him as I prepare to change. After a second, Uriah and Christina join him, and the three of them form a solid barrier to hide me from view.
"Thanks," I mutter to them quietly.
"You realize this goes against all my instincts," Uriah answers without looking at me. "I have a strong preference for looking at pretty girls when they're undressed."
I smile at the comment, despite everything, and smile a little more when Tobias punches Uriah in the arm.
"What?" Uriah says in mock offense. "Would you prefer it if she weren't pretty?" Tobias punches him again, and Uriah turns to Christina. "Trade places with me, would you?" This time, Christina punches him. "Ow," Uriah whines. "She punches harder than you do, Four."
I grab Tobias' hand before he can respond. "I'm done."
"Good thing," Uriah complains as he walks away. "I need to maintain use of my arms." But he winks at me before he begins gathering the discarded clothing and storing it out of sight.
"We should create a false binding mechanism for your hands," Marcus tells me, "so you can make yourself appear restrained or be free at will."
"I'll do it," Tobias snarls at him. "And I'll be her guard, by the way. No one restrains her except me."
As he moves toward the compartments to search for materials, Christina whispers in my ear, "Kinky." For a moment, my face flames with heat. Then, I have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. I can't believe she said that, but in looking across the truck, I see the same amusement on Uriah's face, and I realize Tobias set himself up for that comment. It must be the Abnegation in him not to see it coming.
I look at Caleb automatically to see if he caught it, but he has his entire attention focused on Lauren as he and Cara work rapidly over her injury. My humor disappears instantly at the sight of her still form. She appears to be unconscious, perhaps knocked out by the pain.
"You have two minutes left," Peter tells them tensely. He's apparently been tracking the ten minutes that Amar gave them.
"We just need to stitch this up," Cara responds, her gaze intently on the wound, and I realize Caleb is holding the damaged flesh together as Cara sews it in place. The sight sends a fresh wave of nausea through me.
A warning thump sounds from the front as Cara cuts the thread. "Almost done!" she yells while Caleb begins bandaging the wound over the rough stitches.
Cara sits back with a sigh, looking exhausted. "That's the best we can do," she says to no one and everyone. "Now, we just have to wait and see if it's enough."
Peter thumps twice on the front wall, and the engine rumbles to life again. And then we're driving towards a city we were never supposed to see, in a vehicle we weren't supposed to take, without any of the supplies we needed, waiting to see if Lauren will live or not, and waiting to see what will go wrong next on this terrible, hopeless mission.