To Save a City (Divergent/Eric) 2 of 3 COH Series

Chapter 41

'Take Courage'- Bethel Music & Kristene DiMarco

(Hosanna's POV)

Matthew is driving us to his family's home. He told us that it's quite a long drive.  A song plays on the radio and he turns it up, since we're all Dauntless, he says he thought it was fitting.  Eric and I are seated in the back of his van, with George by himself in the middle reading a book from his tablet, and Amar in the front—literally riding shotgun. David insisted that they accompany us as security, but little did he know, they were already coming with us.
Eric's head is on my lap and he's spread out on the back seat resting with an arm draped over his eyes. I think everything we've seen has overwhelmed him, plus we did get up incredibly early to get going—before the sun even rose.  Just seeing all of the other vehicles on the road—the road itself in excellent condition compared to our city and the surrounding area—is surprising.  To even see people working on repairing holes, orange barrels with white stripes spaced out along the road, was a shock as well. 
We're currently in something called gridlock, as Matthew said, with tons of cars on a giant bridge.  There are numerous working factories in the distance, making the sky a hazy grey but the swamp is still visible in the distance.  By what David and everyone told me about the past, I wasn't expecting the world to be functioning like this.  The bridge itself is in surprisingly good condition but Matthew insists it needs lots of work.  I can see from all of the workers repairing it that they've torn one side down completely. 
"Hey, Matthew," I say.
"Hmm," he hums a reply. 
"What are these workers considered?" I say.
"The Bureau considers them damaged, but they get paid well.  Some people in the fringe are extremely poor and their families always fought the government in the past, while others have worked with us and can easily support their families.  I'll tell you more later, though," he says as the vehicles on our side of the road start to move forward. 
I nod in understanding as he glances back at me through his rear view mirror. He focuses again on the road and I begin to hum along to the music looking out the window. I gently caress Eric's hair mindlessly. The feeling of his shorter hair on my fingertips is relaxing and sends tingles through my hands. I find the movement quite soothing. He turns to face me with his head still on my lap. Lifting my shirt slightly, he kisses my abdomen. I suck in a sharp intake of breath, slightly tickled and surprised at the same time. He looks at me and laughs silently. I furrow my brows and shake my head at him. 'Not here,' I mouth to him.
He frowns. 'I'm sorry,' he mouths back.
We continue on, driving through the interstate. The bumps from previous repairs thump every other second, softly rattling the vehicle as well as us in it.  The traffic lightens as the construction does. I see some unusual vehicles pass by and George identifies them for me: semi trucks for shipping products and food, construction vehicles, military vehicles, and even some campers. Eric lifts his head from my lap to view the last one.
We pull off to a rest area to stretch our legs briefly. Eric and I sit on top of a table under a shade tree together and admire the beautiful day while we wait for our friends to return from inside the building restrooms nearby. He puts his arm around me and I lean my head against his firm, broad chest. He plays with my wedding ring and kisses my hand. 
I notice a family walking near us and they look different from everyone else we've seen outside of the fence—and inside for that matter. They somewhat remind of the Abnegation with their simple, modest clothing. The men and boys all wear hats, buttoned down shirts, and suspenders. The father has an unusual beard, with no mustache. The woman and girls have simple dresses of various colors that resemble what I used to wear while they don bonnets atop their heads. Only babies in Abnegation wore those, with the exception of me when I mutilated my hair that summer after my mother's death.
Eric notices them and nudges me. "I think I had that same dress," I say quietly as I'm able to finally view the mother's grey dress she's wearing while carrying a toddler.
"Do you think they were the model for Abnegation?" he asks me.
"I don't know. Maybe," I say in awe.
They come closer and I smile at them.
"Good day," the man says to us, tipping his hat in respect.
"God bless," I reply.  I don't know why, but I feel some sort of a strange connection with them.
All of the children smile kindly back to me. "God bless," the woman nods to me with the child in her arms.
I watch as they climb into a covered horse drawn carriage, different from anything I've seen in Amity. One of the youngest little boys peaks his head out to look back at us. I wave to him. He waves back before they're off.
Matthew approaches us with a few bottles of water and packaged foods in his hands. He passes them to us and we thank him. Before the family is too far gone, I ask him about them.
"Who are they?" I question Matthew, gesturing to the family in the distance.
"You mean the Amish?" he says looking to the horse drawn cart. I nod my head. He explains that they're a sect of Christianity—pure still—and they don't use electricity or modern conveniences so of course they've never had any genetic testing done. They keep to themselves mostly and have throughout the wars. He says that we may see more since they live in this general area of the country.
We get back in our vehicle, driving off.  I look out the window as forests and fields of produce—mostly corn—pass by in the distance. There are some homes sporadically set throughout and so many farms—some with livestock, some horses.
I hear Matthew sigh loudly and I look out through the front windshield to see a downpour on one side of the road up ahead, clear, sunny skies on the other. I tap Eric's shoulder.
"Look!" I exclaim.
"I've never seen anything like that before. That's pretty amazing," he says. I nod my head in agreement as we watch the rain cross the road up ahead.
"You'd think that with over two hundred years of meteorological technology and studies, one could accurately predict the weather," Matthew jokes as we head into the downpour. He activates the wipers and switches the headlights on. The constant thumping of the raindrops makes me sleepy and I yawn. Eric pulls me over to snuggle with him. In a matter of minutes, I drift off comfortably.