Chapter 31: Tris – Doctor's Office
Strangely, the waiting room smells better than most of the city, even with so many screaming babies and frazzled parents packed into it. I suppose the underlying odor of bleach reduces the effect of dirty diapers mixed with body odor.
The receptionist informs us that the tetanus shot will be free, as all immunizations are. I manage not to smile visibly at the statement, but it confirms that the rebels are right. There must be a receiver in the vaccine or it wouldn't be free – the NUSA government doesn't seem to fund anything that doesn't benefit them directly.
As if to emphasize that, Amar has to pay up front for the other care my injuries will require. As I watch the cash change hands, I'm tempted to say I can do without treatment, but the receptionist makes it clear that's the only way I can see a doctor today.
While we wait, Amar keeps fingering his wedding ring, and George's matching one on his other hand. I know what he's thinking – we'll have to sell them to afford food if we can't wrap things up within the next couple of days. I hope it doesn't come to that.
But judging by how long we wait, it might. Dozens and dozens of children are called to the back and emerge again later while we sit. At some point, everyone stands for the first broadcast of the day, and we follow along dutifully. And then we wait some more.
When the nurse finally calls me into the back area, Amar and Pari come with me as if it's assumed they should. The nurse hesitates briefly, but we all act confident that we're supposed to stay together, and he quickly accepts their presence. It reminds me that confidence goes a long way in convincing people.
The examination room isn't much different than the ones I sat in every year as a child. A pang goes through me as I sit on the table and look at my fake family in the plastic chairs. My mother and Caleb were always with me growing up. Perhaps it's just as well my brother didn't come with me today; I don't think I could have handled that strong a reminder of Mom.
The nurse asks me a few questions before saying the doctor will be in soon. But "soon" seems to be a lie, because we end up waiting again. It's not as long this time as in the waiting room, but it's long enough to remind me how cold doctors' offices always are. At least I didn't have to change into a flimsy gown this time.
When the doctor finally comes in, she's clearly rushed. She asks a few brusque questions without really listening to the answers and then examines my wrist briefly – and not very gently – before concluding I have a minor sprain. She spends a little longer evaluating the cuts and bruises on my other hand.
"When was your last tetanus shot?" she asks, peering closely at me as if trying to determine my age.
"She's almost due for her twelve-year shot," Amar answers calmly, and the doctor nods.
"Well, let's go ahead and give you that today, then," she responds with the closest thing to a smile she's shown so far. "We certainly wouldn't want you getting lockjaw, now would we?"
I shake my head, trying my best to look like a somewhat frightened pre-teen.
After she leaves, the nurse comes back in to clean and bandage my cuts and to wrap my other wrist tightly. I have to admit it feels better that way. Then, he leads us to another room for my shot. That's encouraging, because it presumably means all the immunizations are stored together, and with three of us here, our odds of being able to steal some just improved dramatically.
We're certainly not the only ones in the room. We wait while several babies and small children receive their immunizations, each screaming loudly afterwards. Amar and Pari gradually make their way closer to the cabinet where the shots are stored, keeping their movements casual to avoid suspicion. By the time they're standing near it, I know what I need to do: create a distraction when I'm on the table.
The little girl in front of me jumps into her mother's arms, sobbing from the pain of the injection, and the nurse who's administering the shots looks at me. "You're next," she says in a cheery tone.
I wait for her to get the supplies from the cabinet and then glance at Amar to make sure he's ready. He nods very slightly, and I begin….
"I really hate shots," I say in my best panicked tone, eyeing the needle as if it's a vicious animal that's ready to bite me.
"Don't worry," the nurse reassures me. "This won't hurt a bit."
I rub my injured hand on my leg as if in agitation, taking the opportunity to pinch myself hard. An appropriate level of tears spring to my eyes.
"That's what they always say," I exclaim loudly, "but it does hurt! It hurts a lot!"
"Oh relax," the nurse says, her tone somewhat irritated now. "A big girl like you can certainly handle this."
But I shake my head vigorously. "Noooo," I wail loudly. "I can't I can't I can't!" And I begin flailing around, moving my arms and legs wildly. Everyone within sight is now staring at me, their expressions ranging from disdain to outright fear that I'll hit them with my movements. I'm careful not to look at Amar or Pari, so no one else will follow my gaze. This is their chance, and they'd better be taking it.
"Stop that!" the nurse snaps at me. "This is much better than lockjaw, you know." But I continue my act.
"That's enough," Amar says firmly, walking over to me, and I know they must have succeeded in getting the immunizations. "You knew you were getting a shot today. Now, sit still!" His voice is menacing, and I make myself look afraid of him as I freeze my limbs into place. The nurse seizes the opportunity to give me the shot, which in truth I don't even feel after all the serums I've had injected into me over the last few months.
"There. You're done," she says in a disgusted tone as she slaps a band-aid over the injection site, and I leap down, practically running from the room. Amar and Pari follow me, making our escape while we can. So far, it's gone far better than we could have hoped. We just have to get out of the building now….
We're stepping into the waiting room when the broadcast alert rings through me. The receivers must start working immediately, because I hear it at the same moment Pari does, and I turn toward it along with everyone else in the room.
And then the actual broadcast starts. It's a strange sensation, an awareness that goes beyond hearing or vision – more like a dream, some combination of images and concepts placed directly into my mind. And there are layers to it, different levels of detail ready to be observed by anyone who can sift through them. Somehow, I know how to do it, just as I knew how to control the computer back in the bomb shelter. In fact, it's almost laughably easy.
I dig into the deeper levels of detail and realize I can sense everything that the controller is seeing and thinking as he projects his message, even things that aren't part of the message itself. I'm sure he isn't intentionally transmitting those, but I take full advantage of them.
It takes less than a minute for me to gain a clear mental image of what the room with the Control Computer looks like, and where it's located within the floor of the building. Unfortunately, Dan Miter – as I now know his name is – isn't thinking about the rest of the building, so I can't determine which building he's in or what the floor number is. But that doesn't worry me. I know with absolutely certainty that I can figure that out in the next broadcast; I just need a clear line of sight to the building to get it.
I almost smile in triumph before remembering to keep my expression neutral. The broadcast is still going, after all.
I don't shift my eyes, but I focus on my peripheral vision to see if anyone noticed my slight change of expression. No one is looking at me, but a movement flickers in the lower part of my vision, and I turn my attention to it. What I see causes ice to drop into my stomach.
A baby is playing on the counter by the receptionist's desk, clearly oblivious to the broadcast. Its mother must have set it there while checking in with the receptionist, but she's now frozen, listening to the signal while her child nears the edge of a dangerous drop.
I stand still, hoping against hope that the baby will stop, but it's so close to the edge, and it keeps moving. I'm within arm's reach. All I need to do is move one hand, just enough to block the infant from likely death. Would anyone notice? Surely not, as wrapped up in the signal as they are….
Three more inches, then two, and then the baby's hand crosses the edge and it starts to teeter, and I can't stop myself. I keep the movement as subtle as possible, moving my arm up to form a barrier. And then I freeze like that. Hopefully, when everyone returns to reality, they'll think I was in that position the whole time.
The baby presses against me, cooing as it grabs my injured fingers in that tight grip that only infants seem to be able to form. It hurts, but I keep my expression unchanged. And then the broadcast finally ends.
I look down at the child, blinking as if I'm not sure what just happened or how this baby ended up holding my hand.
"My, you're a friendly little thing, aren't you?" I say in my best sing-song voice, trying to shift attention from myself.
The baby's mother looks over, surprised, and reaches to retrieve her child.
"Yes, he is," she comments as she pries his fingers loose. "I'm sorry if he bothered you."
"Oh, it's no problem," I say with a smile. "I like babies." The mom smiles back at me.
Amar places a hand on my shoulder, saying calmly, "It's time to go now, sweetheart." I give a final smile to the infant's mother and turn around.
We've walked three steps when I hear the voice of a young child. "She kept that baby from falling, Mommy." We keep going, pretending not to notice, but the voice is suddenly louder as it adds, "She did that during quiet time!"
It takes four more steps before people begin to approach me, their hands reaching out to stop me as they hiss words that I know don't belong to them.
"She's dangerous."
"Call the police."
"Come with me, miss."
Their eyes are too blank, and for a moment, all I can think of is the way Will looked under the simulation. It makes my chest hurt. I don't want to harm these people when they're not in control of their own actions.
"Grab her arms."
"Don't let her leave!"
For a split second, my eyes meet Amar's, and my mind clears at the look of controlled fear I see reflected there. It's a lesson from my second faction, how to act in spite of fear. And this is definitely a time to be Dauntless.
My hands are too injured to do much, but the rest of my body works just fine. I drill my shoulder into the stomach of the man in front of me, causing him to fall backwards with a resounding "Oomph!"
Beside me, Amar grabs a woman's arm and uses it to swing her into the stream of people approaching from one side, temporarily blocking them. As he does it, a man approaches him from behind, but Amar performs a back kick with more power than I ever thought possible, sending the man sprawling into the people on that side.
I aim a kick of my own at another figure, a woman this time, as Pari snaps into action. And the three of us fight our way out of the crowded waiting room and into the hallway that connects the pediatrician's office to the hospital.
We race down the hallway, winding our way through people as we head for the nearest exit, but loud voices and pounding feet sound behind us. I'm sure someone has also called the police, and who knows what other alarm systems they have here? It won't be long before they catch us.
My eyes roam wildly, looking for a way out or a place to hide. I remember slipping into an abandoned building after we escaped from Erudite headquarters, letting the search pass by us while we waited under the stairway. But nothing like that presents itself here.
We flee down another hallway, and then Amar grabs my arm abruptly, shoving me through a door to the right and into a stairwell. He must have seen some marker I missed. We descend rapidly, our footsteps bouncing chaotically off the metal and cement. And then we're racing through an underground parking garage to another stairway and up to street level and out into the air. I hadn't realized how long we were inside, but night apparently fell at some point while we were in the doctor's office. I'm glad for the cover it provides as we run full-out toward safety.
My breathing is too hard for me to hear anything else at this point, but I don't stop. Instead, I lengthen my stride, stretching my legs until every muscle hurts. Despite that, I still have to run two steps for each one of Amar's, with his longer legs.
We zip through alleyways. We're still in the business area, so there are no shelters here, and the space is relatively deserted. Finally, we reach a spot where no one else is in sight, and Amar drags me to a walk. I force my breathing to slow down as we round the corner, managing to walk in a non-conspicuous manner. No one seems to be taking notice of us here, though I don't dare look around enough to make sure. Did we outrun our pursuers?
After another couple of streets, Amar leads me into a different alleyway. This one is also deserted, and he pushes me against a wall, leaning close so he can whisper into my ear without being overheard.
"Take these." He pushes something against my side, and I realize he's handing me the immunization materials. A twinge of pain goes through my fingers as I grab them, but I ignore it, taking the supplies and shoving them into an inside pocket on my coat.
"Find the others," Amar whispers. "I need to go back for Pari."
My stomach leaps into my throat as I jerk back, staring around wildly. How did I not notice she wasn't with us anymore? Where did we lose her? But Amar pushes me against the wall again, using his body to hide me from sight and to ensure we're not heard.
"Listen to me," he says, his lips right on my ear in a manner that only Tobias' have been before. "I have to keep her from being questioned." My insides twist, knowing what he means. In my mind, I see Lisa's body falling backwards, and I know I traded Pari's life for that baby's.
"I shouldn't have done it," I moan.
"No," Amar states flatly. "But I can't blame you. It was a baby, for God's sake." I can hear the agony in his tone, and for a fleeting second I wonder what he would have done if he'd been standing where I was. Maybe the same thing I did.
"I need you to focus," he says. "Get that to the others and find out where it is tonight," he whispers, avoiding nouns just in case we're somehow overheard. "If I don't return, you have to act tonight. I will do everything possible to stop her from talking, but I may be caught in the process." My muscles tense at the thought, but he continues relentlessly. "Hopefully, that won't happen, but if it does…I know from my testing that I can buy you some time, probably twelve hours. But you have to finish by six o'clock in the morning or you may not get another chance. Understand?"
He waits until I nod, the movement causing my head to brush against his. I feel his hands twisting, and he presses something else into my injured fingers. Something small and round. A ring.
"If I don't make it back, give that to George. And tell him I love him."
I swallow hard. "I will," I whisper back. And then he walks away, fast, in the direction we came. I close my eyes for just a second, pulling strength into me from somewhere for what I need to do, and then I move toward where I know the others are. There's no time to lose.