Chapter 26: Tobias – Pawns
It's strange saying goodbye to Lauren, with everyone trying to be upbeat about our odds of all surviving and making it back to Chicago when I still doubt that will happen. Tris has given her the best possible chance, but that wound is severe.
It doesn't help that I still feel responsible for her injury, especially since if I had it to do over again, I would probably make the same decision. I just don't trust my father to be in charge, and Lauren was the logical alternative.
Even without the guilt, though, I know it would be difficult to say goodbye. I've so rarely said a farewell to anyone in my life – usually, people have simply left me, or I've left them, but there was never any discussion about it. The only exception was with Zeke, and he wasn't covered with blood at the time.
Honestly, it would have been easier to just slink off and not say anything, but when Tris kneels beside Lauren and squeezes her hand, muttering something quiet, I can already tell there's no way to avoid this. Sure enough, the others follow suit, and then all eyes are on me as I shuffle forward awkwardly.
Lauren seems to recognize my discomfort. She shakes my hand Dauntless-style and tells me it's been an honor working with me, and I try to return the sentiment. I apparently don't do a very good job, because Tris doesn't meet my eyes afterwards. Or maybe she just hates this whole situation as much as I do. We've both seen death enough times to know when it's waiting for someone, and it's never easy when you see it hovering.
The plan is to gradually swap places with the rebels we pick up, changing clothes in their apartments and letting them take our spaces in the truck. Tris, Uriah, and I are the first to be exchanged this way, and I know it's because we're picking up the safest people first, and Amar wants to expose the three of us to as little danger as possible.
After we change, we wait in the miniscule apartment for Pari and Peter to come collect us. It's an awkward wait. My eyes hang on Tris, thinking about everything we could be doing if Uriah weren't here, but even after all the times Zeke made out with someone in front of me, I'm not willing to do that to his brother. So, we sit there looking at each other, unable to say much with people on the other side of the thin walls.
Eventually, Uriah starts signing to Tris in Morse code, and I watch curiously. I was in Erudite when he taught the others, so I never had a chance to learn it, and it occurs to me now that it would be a useful thing to know. Uriah seems to realize that too, or perhaps Tris signs it to him, because after a moment they begin trying to teach me.
It's slow going, but over the two hours we spend waiting, I get the hang of some basics. I actually pick up more from Tris than from Uriah, despite the fact that he's far more familiar with it. I guess my way of thinking is just more like hers.
Finally, Pari and Peter come into the room, looking a bit worn down. But when Peter starts to sit, Pari snaps her fingers at him angrily.
"Come on," she whispers fiercely. She turns her eyes to the rest of us and adds, "I have directions to a good pawn shop."
Unfortunately, it quickly becomes clear that the directions aren't great, or at least that they aren't effective for someone who doesn't know this city. We end up retracing our path several times to get back on track, trying to read old, dirty street signs without looking obviously out of place. It's been a very long time since I felt this lost – the last time, I was a young child trying to walk to school on my own for the first time, and I took a wrong turn. The school office reported me for being late, and my father beat me hard that night. After that, I studied maps diligently so I could always find my way, but wandering these unfamiliar streets brings the old fear back more than I care to admit.
It doesn't help that this part of the city is as bad as the rest of what we've seen, overwhelmed by a staggering level of poverty and misery. And given how everyone accepts it as normal, I suspect the whole city is like this…or maybe the whole country.
It's actually a relief when my brain finally gives up on processing the smells and starts turning a blind eye to the worst of the sights. It's harder to turn off my hearing; no matter what, I can't ignore the sound of a hand striking a sobbing woman or child, and that particular sound comes far too often here. I tense up every time, wanting nothing so much as to intervene, and I can feel Tris beside me straining with the same instinct. It takes all my self-control to remember that we can't attract attention to ourselves and to keep walking. It's a good thing Marcus isn't with us.
We've been walking for close to half an hour when the first broadcast starts. It's very similar to how we practiced, but it's surreal to see it with so many people involved. Cars stop, and people clamber out onto the road, and others emerge from their shelters to crowd onto the sidewalk, all turning the same direction, their faces blank.
My first instinct is to look around and study this phenomenon, but I force myself to respond the way I did when I awoke to find all of Dauntless sleep-walking. My face slack, I turn the same direction as everyone else and hold my body still. I don't even move my eyes, though my peripheral vision takes in the field of human statues surrounding me.
It's surprisingly difficult to stay still the entire time, with no idea when it will end, and I'm very glad we practiced as many times as we did. When Pari turns back around as if nothing happened, we all join her without hesitation, walking in silence in this city where privacy is a foreign concept.
The pawn shop smells strongly of mold. Old clothing and furniture and knick-knacks and even rolled up carpets are shoved into every available space. Most of the items are threadbare and reflect the poverty we've seen outside, but a few things indicate that perhaps not everyone in the city is as poor as the residents we've seen so far. Pari leads us to a counter, and I notice a large display of jewelry in glass cases. Presumably, it needs to be locked up to keep it from wandering away in desperate hands.
"How may I help you today?" a middle-aged man asks as he quickly crosses the store to join us. Judging by his unripped clothing and the slight layer of fat on his body, he's far better off than average in this city.
"My friend and I have some jewelry we would like to sell," Pari answers casually, indicating herself and Tris. "If you're willing to offer a fair price for it." She narrows her eyes distrustfully, acting as if she's perfectly willing to walk away if he won't pay enough. And perhaps she is, though I doubt it. We had a hard enough time finding this store.
"My pricing is always fair," the man answers haughtily, and I wonder if it was a mistake to antagonize him. "Let's see what you have."
Pari and Tris lay the jewelry out carefully, and I wince slightly as I notice Amar and George's rings among them. It feels wrong to sell those, given the risk that one member of the couple could end up surviving while the other doesn't. Tris' eyes linger on the silver bands, too, and I'm sure she's thinking the same thing.
"Price those two separately from the rest," she says, "and this one too." And she lays Anna's ring next to them. "I'm not sure we want to sell them."
The man nods, his eyes gleaming as he surveys the variety in front of him. He probably doesn't get items like this often, and it occurs to me that he may think we stole them. But if so, it must not bother him, because he doesn't say anything.
I find my eyes fixated on Anna's ring as our potential buyer evaluates each item in turn, using small instruments to assess their worth. It's not until Tris glances at me, following my gaze to the ring, that I look away. She touches my arm lightly, but I shake my head a little, not looking at her. It's just an object, I remind myself. It can be replaced. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a smile twitch at her mouth as she apparently guesses the reason for my hesitation.
Our interaction catches the man's attention. "Where are my manners?" he says suddenly. "You must all be thirsty." Something inside me freezes as he steps over to a large jug of water that I failed to notice earlier. Pari can't drink that.
"Ladies first," he adds cheerily, handing Pari a glass of water and looking at her expectantly. Shit.
"Yes, please!" Tris abruptly interrupts, drawing his eyes to her. "I'm SO thirsty. I had to walk a long way to get here, and I haven't had anything to drink all morning."
For a moment, he looks almost shocked, and then he turns to get another glass. "You mustn't forget your morning water," he exclaims, his eyes wide and focused on Tris.
"I know," she says contritely. "I didn't mean to – the walk just took longer than I expected. But it's so nice of you to offer." She begins gulping the water greedily as he continues to stare at her. Behind the man, I can see Uriah grabbing the cup from Pari and taking a couple of long swigs before handing it to Peter, who gestures pointedly at a potted plant nearby. But he drinks the rest anyway, apparently deciding that moisture on the plant could give us away.
Pari takes the empty cup back and raises it to her lips just enough to leave a drop on her mouth before she steps over to the man and hands the cup to him. "Thank you very much for that," she murmurs politely. He nods, his eyes flitting to her only briefly before returning to Tris, where they stay until she finishes draining her glass.
"Any chance I could have another one?" Tris asks plaintively, and the man smiles broadly, his suspicions apparently allayed.
"Of course." And he proceeds to give her more water and to give the rest of us a glass each, but fortunately he pays no more attention to Pari at all.
We're less fortunate in the monetary offers he makes. Anna's ring is worth more than all the other items together. Tris closes her eyes for a second, reluctance clear in her expression, and I understand exactly how she feels. But we all know there's no choice. Finally, she pulls Amar and George's rings back and lets the rest go.
I feel like something is ripping away as this stranger takes Anna's ring and places it in the glass case. It's not even ours, I think firmly, but that doesn't change anything. It's still as if the future we should have had is now locked out of reach.
Pari, on the other hand, is clearly pleased with the amount of money we acquired, and she leads us almost jauntily from the store.
It takes us over an hour on foot to reach the bridge where we're supposed to meet the others. The moment I see it, I'm glad we decided to meet underneath it instead of on top. The bridge we crossed coming into the city was bad enough, but this one must be at least three times higher. The Ferris wheel Tris and I climbed could fit underneath it with plenty of room to spare.
We follow a winding road until we're in the bridge's shadow, and then we have to fight our way through thick trees and underbrush, moving slowly down a steep hill, to reach the train tracks at the bottom. As we were told, they curve as they pass under the bridge. That means any train following this line will have to slow down here, making it a good spot to climb aboard. And if our information is accurate, the four o'clock freight train goes all the way to Philadelphia.
When we finally reach our meeting spot, it's clear we're the first ones here. And for the first time since we entered this city, there are no other people around – at least not that we can see or hear. With the trees, there are no guarantees, but it's still the closest thing we've had to privacy all day. I'm inclined to take advantage of it.
I take Tris' hand as I growl at the others, "You can wait over there. I'm claiming this spot." Peter rolls his eyes, and Uriah smirks, but they move off without comment. Pari gives me a meaningful look, reminding me silently that we need to stay within sight of her in case there's another broadcast. That's a valid point, but I'm still glad when she moves a short distance away, giving me and Tris what little space she safely can.
And for the first time all day, I pull Tris into my arms. She looks almost nervous at first, but then she relaxes and wraps her arms around my waist, resting her ear over my heart as she likes to do. That position always raises mixed emotions in me, since it's how she brought me out of the simulation. It reminds me that I almost killed her, but it also makes me remember waking up to find her alive and with me when I had no hope of that ever happening again. I focus on the second part as I rest my face against the side of her head, my lips in her hair, and rock her slowly back and forth. It feels good to hold her.
"I never thought I'd miss the bomb shelter," I whisper into her ear, far too quietly for anyone else to hear. Her laughter bubbles against my chest.
"It would be nice to be alone, wouldn't it?" she whispers back.
"I always want to be alone with you," I murmur, and I can feel her appreciative smile against my body. I pull back far enough to find her lips, kissing her slowly and letting the heat build. My fingers slide lightly down her back, an answering shiver following them, and a little moan escapes her. It's barely audible with her mouth pressed to mine, but it's enough to stir a response inside me, one that reminds me I'm still a teenage boy who loves making his girlfriend feel this way.
When we finally pull apart, I whisper, "It's been far too long since I got to do that." She opens her mouth to respond, but then her eyes move past me and grow wide. I whirl around, seeing Pari, Uriah, and Peter all standing at attention, facing the same direction. There's a broadcast.
Tris and I immediately play the part we should have started earlier. How long ago did it begin? More importantly, did anyone see us not responding to it?
When it ends, Pari glares at us viciously enough to answer the first question. We can only hope for the best on the second.
We stay with the others after that, not daring to be distracted again. We wait in near silence, moving around a little to stay warm. Occasionally, Uriah tries to break the mood with a light comment, but his eyes flit around too nervously for it to work. We get tenser the closer it gets to four o'clock. The rest of the group should be here by now.
"If they don't get here in time," Uriah asks very quietly, making sure only we can hear, "what do we do?"
"We wait for the next train," Tris answers firmly, but Pari purses her mouth in disagreement.
"No," she responds so softly I have to lean closer to hear her. "We get on that train either way. But if they don't come, we have to assume they've been captured. And that means we'll have to get off early and take a different route." The words send a chill through me.
At three forty-five, we begin walking up and down the railroad tracks, figuring out where we should start running, where we should try to board, and what the latest point is to jump on. Pari is the only one of us who has never climbed onto a moving train, so we give her pointers. She, in turn, describes the differences between a freight train and a passenger train, though I can't say our trains in Chicago sound much like either of the types she describes.
Just after four o'clock, we hear the rumbling of the engines in the distance and begin to feel the vibrations through the tracks. Come on, Amar, you're out of time.
And then it rounds the corner, and all I can do is stare for a moment. It's more than a little impressive – taller and far more imposing than I expected. We pull back, watching as the cars begin to pass so we can see what they're like. Most of them have grab bars, but they're higher off the ground than we're used to. It will be hard for Tris to reach them at her height, even though she can jump well.
Uriah starts to run alongside the train, pulling Pari with him, but a flicker of movement on my other side catches my attention. I turn, and a rush of relief goes through me at the sight of Margot racing toward us, the others from our group behind her. They made it – barely – but only because the train is as long as our informant said. It seems to go on forever.
I glance back at the train in time to see Peter haul himself on. Uriah and Pari are already aboard. But Tris and I wait for the others. Some of them are going to need help.
Margot and Christina reach us first and immediately begin running alongside the train. I hesitate slightly, wondering if Christina's leg injury and Margot's inexperience will cause them issues, but they manage fine. I should really stop underestimating Christina.
Caleb and Cara are next, and Tris and I run with them, shouting instructions. Caleb manages the leap and turns around to haul Cara up behind him. But then we're at the end of the running space, so Tris and I circle back to the starting point. We pass Marcus on the way, but neither of us does anything to help him. He can get aboard on his own.
We line up behind Amar and a very nervous-looking Lisa. This pass, Tris makes a truly fantastic leap, hanging from a grab bar for several long seconds before swinging herself safely on board. I'm about to follow suit when I realize that Amar and Lisa have reached the end of the run and are circling back, Lisa screaming in obvious panic. I swing back with them to see if I can help.
But we don't have any luck the next run, either, or the one after that. It's a good thing the train is so long, but it gets harder with each pass, as we run out of breath and watch Lisa's fear increase more and more. She's shying away from the train so badly at this point that Amar and I have to physically haul her with us to even try. On the fifth run, we lift her between us, trying to literally throw her at the train, but she squirms away hard, and we crash into a pile on the ground.
"I can't do it," she gasps in terror, pulling away in extreme agitation, and I recognize her expression. I've seen it on the faces of enough initiates to know it's the point of no return, the apex where they've decided to accept failure as the only choice they can handle. But that's not an option right now.
"You have to," I insist. "You can't stay here." But she's too panicked to hear me. And as I turn to look back at the train, I see the last car coming into sight.
"Amar!" I shout urgently, and we exchange the briefest glance before we both begin racing alongside the train. There's no choice. I haul myself on, the metal of the grab bar cold and slick in my hands, and see that Amar has managed to do the same, with no time to spare.
For just a moment, I watch Lisa standing there helplessly, and then her head whips backwards. Her body hangs in the air for a timeless stretch before she drops to the ground. It takes me another second to realize she was shot.