WHAT IS FEAR?
According to the dictionary, it's an "unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat."
I only know that because I spent 16 years in Erudite.
But, like pain, I believe fear is an illusion.
For some, it can be a force that pushes them to the brink of their sanity, harder and harder, until they fall right off the edge and crumble. Their fear is their doom.
But your fears should not consume you.
Fears should be the things that push you to the edge, so you are only left with two options.
Either you fall, or you fight back.
Either you let your fears control you, or you control them.
See, becoming fearless isn't the goal. First of all, that's impossible, and second of all, it's not what you want to do.
Fear is an instinct for you to wake up. It tells you when danger is about to slap you in the face so that you can punch it first.
It's not about being fearless.
It's about controlling your fears, and learning how to live alongside them.
It's about being brave, even when you don't want to be, because you have to.
It's about freeing yourself from their grasp, but still knowing they're there. Somewhere.
That's the point.
And after everything that's happened to me in the past few weeks, I'd have to say I've gotten to know fear pretty well.
But for the record, that's not just because I transferred to Dauntless.
My name is Jacqueline "Jax" Lorelai Taylor. I'm 16 years old.
Two months ago, I was in Erudite. Yesterday, I was in Dauntless.
Today, I'm on a train. I have a few good reasons to be scared of where I'm going.
Not geographically though. Right now, this train is headed to happy-fun-time-farming land, also known as the Amity compound. Basically, it's the farming district in the middle of nowhere.
• • •
THE FRIGID WALL OF THIS TRAIN has been pressed against my spine for about an hour or so, and the only glimmer of hope that keeps me from collapsing is that we should be reaching our destination soon. As of right now, I'm standing next to Peter Hayes, a fellow Dauntless initiate (technically) and my... well, my special friend, for the lack of a better term. I'm also feeling a little light-headed, but that can be attributed to what I've just been through. I would like to feel relaxed now that we're going to a land full of kind hippies who grow food for a living, but I have other things plaguing my mind.
Allow me to expand on that.
The reason I got on the train with a few others – Peter Hayes, as mentioned before; Four... last name unknown, my instructor at Dauntless, sort of Divergent; Tris Prior, fellow initiate, also Divergent and Four's girlfriend; Caleb Prior, Tris' brother and a transfer to Erudite; and Marcus Eaton, ex-leader of the Abnegation and leader of our society – in the first place was because I needed to leave. The Dauntless and Erudite have been working together for a while now, and their plan was to eliminate the Abnegation faction for reasons unknown to me. How, you may ask? The Erudite created a simulation that was injected into every Dauntless member two days ago, that would act similarly to mind control. The Dauntless wouldn't be able to control what they did, unless they were Divergent. They had to blend in with the rest of the population, or else they'd be shot on the spot.
Unless they're me. I'm Divergent, even though I really only got one result on the Aptitude Test. I'm a special case. Like Four.
Anyways, I had accidentally shot a surveillance camera while on guard duty when Tris and her entourage came along and demanded answers. When they didn't get what they wanted, Tris inflicted physical harm upon both me and Peter; she ruthlessly shot him in the arm, and me in the hand (which had previously been impaled by a throwing knife) for no good reason. Long story short, I had shut the simulation down, and needed to get out before anyone figured out it was my doing. Shortly after I found Peter in the mess of dazed Dauntless, the tattoo artist, Tori, found me and offered me an opportunity.
In a week, more or less, a group of Erudite-alleigant Dauntless will be looking for me (a hostage needing to be rescued)at Amity. I will be taken and brought back to "safety" at Erudite, my home faction, and stay there to retrieve information. Eventually everyone on the mission will return to the rest of the Dauntless, but that's all Tori explained to me so far. Now, that may not seem too bad.
But wait, there's more!
I'm not allowed to tell anybody that they're in danger.
Not Peter, nor Four, nor Tris, nor Caleb, nor even Marcus. I have to lie to all of them and pretend I'm on the other side. I'm a double agent, basically. I've agreed to a life of deception, deceit, duplicity, for the next chapter of my life.
Thank goodness I'm not a Candor.
I watch as we get closer and closer the the spot where we need to jump. Four is persuading Tris to get up and jump, even after what just happened, while the rest of us stand by the door.
"We need to go in ten seconds," I say to everyone. I count down in my head.
10, 9, 8. I haven't spoken to Peter much during the entire ride.
7, 6, 5. He knows something is wrong.
4, 3. He'll understand.
2, 1. Right?
"Now," I say, before I jump off the train and land on grassy terrain. Peter, Caleb, and Marcus follow after and land near me, whereas Four and Tris take a while to get off. They land several feet away from the rest of us, almost hitting a tree on the way down. "They should have jumped when I told 'em to," I mumble to myself. Now that I'm safe, I can pay full attention to the excruciating pain my hand is in.
I look down at my own palm, expecting a clean hole and the metal of a bullet, but instead I'm greeting with a pool of my own blood. My shirt is stained with crimson, even though it's black and ripped, and the grass around me is now contaminated with red amongst the previously pristine green. Oh. That's why I'm feeling lightheaded. Blood loss. I hiss and apply a bit of pressure, but know I need to get to Amity as quickly as I can to get that treated. Peter too. His arm is bloodier than The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I push myself off the ground despite having a bullet in my hand so I can help him up. Marcus, like the Abnegation he is, places a hand on each of our shoulders and guides us forward. We follow Tris, Four, and a crying Caleb until we reach the edge of the fence, just blocking the trail towards Amity.
"There are supposed to be Dauntless guards here," Marcus says from just behind me. "Where are they?"
"They were probably under the simulation," Four says dryly, "and are now... who knows where, doing who knows what." My ex-instructor advances towards a small metal box with a keypad. It makes sense that he'd know the code to unlock the door. After all, he used to work in the control room. "Let's hope the Erudite didn't think to change this combination." He punches in a series of numbers I make sure to pay attention to.
8, 4, 2, 8, 6, 7, 4, 2.
The gate clicks open and Four leads us through.
"How did you know that?" Caleb asks, his voice full of emotion to the point where it sounds like he's going to burst into tears any second.
"I worked in the Dauntless control room, monitoring the security system. We only change the codes twice a year," Four explains.
"How lucky," Caleb mutters wearily.
"Luck has nothing to do with it," Four interjects dryly, "I only worked there to make sure I could get out." His tone is like a desert; always dry. Four and Tris then lead us through the gate, with Marcus gently escorting Peter and I. I feel myself starting to wobble as I walk. Probably blood loss. I'm already lightheaded – dizziness would only be expected. Peter has a tourniquet on his arm, but my wound has just been free-flowing for a while now. I really need to get to Amity.
The lights are the first thing I see. They force me to squint. We get closer and closer until I can make out large windows alongside wooden and glass buildings, just after an orchard ends. Fruit hangs from the overlaying branches, sending a comforting sweet and earthy aroma breezing onto my cheeks. When we near the end of the trail, Marcus withdraws his hands from our shoulders and moves out front as Caleb reclaims his previous position.
"I know where to go," Marcus says.
We pass the first wooden building and move onto the second. I notice that all of the different structures, except the greenhouses, are constructed with the same dark and unpainted wood. It gives a really natural aesthetic to the compound. A few windows are open, which allow the sounds of laughter to bubble through the gentle air. Nobody guards the doors. It's Amity; they trust everyone. The interior is calming as well; roughly built with wood, but not to the point where it's uncomfortable. It's homey and warm and relaxing – a deep contrast from what I've been used to.
Marcus stops in front of an open room, inside of which I assume the representative of Amity – Johanna Reyes – is sitting. My suspicions are affirmed when we see her staring out the window. She soon feels our presence in the room and turns.
"Oh, thank God," she sighs when she sees Marcus. Her features are marred with a scar, though I don't know where she got it from. She's unmistakable. Some people say that she would have been beautiful had it not been for the mark on her face, but I think it just makes her look tougher. She stands up and opens her arms for an embrace, but instead places her hands on Marcus' shoulders.
"The other members of you party got here a few hours ago, but they weren't sure if you had made it." Party? Were they other Abnegation members?
She looks over where her hands are placed and scans over Tris, Four and Caleb, before her features settle with concern when she reaches me and Peter. "Oh my. I'll send for a doctor. I can grant you all permission to stay the night, but tomorrow, our community must decide together. And," Johanna explains, while eyeing a certain four of us, "they will likely not be enthusiastic about a Dauntless presence in out compound. I of course ask you to turn over any weapons you have."
I immediately reach behind my back to retrieve my gun. Four hands his over, as do I. "I assure you, Ms. Reyes–"
"Please, Johanna."
"I assure you, Johanna, that we will uphold your peaceful values while seeking refuge at your compound. It is greatly appreciated." I see out of the corner of my eye Four restricting Tris from handing her gun over. Likewise, I leave a small blade tucked inside my boot where it is. It's smart, in some sense.
"Thank you..."
"Jax."
Peter nudges me. "Stop being so nosey," he whispers. That's the first thing he's said to me since we got here.
"I'm not??? I didn't ask for any information–"
"No," he interjects. "I mean Nose-y. As in, Nose, Erudite. Nose-y. It shows."
"Sorry," I mumble.
"Hey," he whispers again, more softly, as he nudges me again. "I was kidding."
"My name," Johanna interrupts, "is Johanna Reyes." She extends her hand to Tris and Four, before moving on to Peter, who she nods towards (considering his arm), and shaking my right hand. She's well educated with faction greetings. Makes sense – the Amity are all about kindness and consideration for others.
Marcus begins to introduce us. He gestures to Four first. "This is T–"
"My name," Four interrupts coldly, "is Four." T? Oh. Tobias, maybe. That's what Tris kept calling him at Dauntless. "This is Tris, Caleb, Jax, and Peter."
"Welcome to the Amity compound," Johanna says calmly. Her smile is crooked but pretty. "Let us take care of you."
• • •
"HOW LONG WILL IT TAKE TO GET BACK TO NORMAL?"
Peter and I had been escorted to the hospital wing where a few doctors were waiting. I was lying down on a cot that was already stained red, like Peter, who was in similar conditions next to me.
"Not long, dear," the doctor says comfortingly. "We just need to get the bullet out, clean it, and stitch. Though, it seems you have previous damage to that hand?"
"Yeah," I reply. "I got stabbed. By a throwing knife."
"Dear Lord," the doctor says sympathetically, yet is appalled at the level of cruelty I endured. "That'll take more time to heal. Don't use it too much." I smile and nod as she leaves to go get tools to remove the bullet. A team of a doctor and a nurse are stationed at Peter's cot, but stand in between us so that I can't see him. I hope he's alright. In staring and trying to catch a glimpse of Peter, I don't realize my doctor and a nurse returning. The doctor quickly runs off to go retrieve something while the nurse preps me.
"Hi," he says, sweeping his mop of sandy-coloured hair out of his eyes. Yes. A male nurse. Get over it. "I'm Jackson."
"Jax," I say, a little absentmindedly. Jackson laughs.
"Nice to meet you. I'd shake your hand, but you don't seem to be in the mood." I smile gratefully at his consideration. If he wasn't a nurse, I would have thought he was from Amity. He seems kind. Maybe he's Divergent too. The doctor returns with a slight frown on her face and a towel in her hand.
"Good news and bad news," she states. "The bullet will be coming out, of course, and you will be receiving treatment for your hand. However, we do not have any anesthetics to numb the pain. It would take too long for the drugs to get here, and by then you will have already bled out. Plus, you're at high risk of an infection. Are you alright with having the bullet removed now?"
I nod my head and mumble out a yes. She puts the towel under my hand, which I suspect is to collect blood or something. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself for the sharp sting sure to come with the procedure. My teeth clamp down so hard on my lip that I taste blood. My other hand clenches into fists as soon as the pain courses through my veins. I can't bring myself to watch the bullet being pried out. Waves of stinging sneak up on me; as soon as I think it's over, it comes back again stronger. It gets a little better after the sting from antiseptic agent wears off, but I still feel the needle and thread stitching up my wound. I've lost track of time.
Soon enough, Jackson grabs my other hand. I pry my eyes open and notice the new stitches in my bloody hand. I try and smile at him, though it probably ends up just looking like a grimace. "Well," he start, "the hard part is over. We have a salve that will heal it more quickly. You aren't allergic to anything, are you?"
"Just walnuts," I reply.
"Oh, that's fine." The doctor then gets my attention.
"You'll have to be on antibiotics for a week or so. Just follow the directions on this pill bottle," she explains, as she hands me a small container of small white tablets. "Make sure to wash that. It won't sting nearly as much as it did just now, though, so don't worry." She smiles and stands up to leave. "Get well soon." Only Jackson and I are left by me, and Peter looks like he's asleep, from what I can see.
Jackson pushes himself up and reaches his lanky arm over a counter to get a small container of something. "The salve," he tells me. He unscrews the lid to reveal a pinkish ointment. Dabbing his index and middle finger in, he scoops out a little and waves it in my face. "It has a raspberry ingredient. Just take this much," he instructs, before bringing it down and rubbing it on my hand. "Once a day should be okay." He smiles crookedly at me, revealing straight white teeth.
He gets up to leave, but I stop him by calling his name. "Wait – Jackson? Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot."
"Are you in Erudite?"
"Technically?" He wrings his hands together. "I accidentally overheard what Jeanine was planning to do. I'd only been there for two years in the med department studying to be a doctor, but I was a transfer from here, actually, and it was in my roots to not tolerate violence. So I came back to Johanna and the community agreed that I could be a nurse."
"Do you miss it?"
"Of course. Just like you would miss Dauntless, or the Abnegations would miss their sector."
"Okay," I say. "Thank you."
"No problem," he smiles. As he turns to leave, he pauses where he is and calls over his shoulder. "Don't forget to take those pills. Oh, and there are clothes on the table beside you if you want to change. The clothes you're in are dirty." Then he's gone.
I fling the covers off and stand up before bouncing over to the table. The clothes are stacked neatly next to the container of pinkish salve. I gather the somewhat bright colours in my arms and make my way to the nearest bathroom (after being directed by a few Amity people). I locked the door and pivoted around to see the beginning of deep bags under my eyes. My arm is coated in dried crimson blood, like the rest of my clothes. I sigh as I peel off the sticky fabric and stick the ruined garments in the trash bin. Such a shame. I quickly take a shower to wash off all the excess blood and sweat and anything else I might have rolled around in on the way here while blinking at the mild sting of soap on my hand, before I decide on refraining from using my let hand at all. The sign reminding me to take only a five minute shower I obey once the cold water runs over my skin. Although it should wake me up a little, I still feel a little drowsy. I make sure I don't take too long (but who would want to anyways – it was a cold shower). Shortly after, I step out and put the clothes on. The faded red shirt is a little too big for me, a huge contrast to my skin-tight black tank. The soft material is baggy, but smells sweet, like the rest of the compound.
On the counter left behind are a pair of denim jean shorts with cute floral embroidery down the sides. I quickly pull them on along with a pair of comfy strappy sandals that had been left with me. They're half a size too big, but they'll do for now. I hold onto my scuffed combat boots while the rest of my Dauntless clothes were gone in the trash. I look at them and remember my first day at the compound of stone, while missing the simplicity of it all and the soft crashes of the water on the depths of the chasm. I shift the towel on my head confining my wild hair (growing a little unhealthy at the ends – I should cut it soon)so that the stray strands of wet locks are protected by the fabric. While doing this, I step in front of the mirror to inspect myself. I look more refreshed and relaxed in these clothes. The red on anything else would be bright enough to blind me, but here it looks subtle and calm. I can't help but smile at the thought running through my head at the moment.
Damn, Jax, I laugh to myself. I look like a tomato.
Shaking it off, I unlock the door and gather my boots before exiting the bathroom and returning to my cot. Peter's eyes are shut peacefully, deep into what is most likely a good dream. He looks younger when he sleeps; not stressed nor anxious with worry, nor wrought with anger, nor plagued with sadness or loss. He looks happy. Don't call me a creep for watching him while he sleeps – I'm sure he's done it to me before at least once. Get off my back.
I see on my own counter a glass of water next to the pills. I unscrew the lid and take one out before downing it with the water. I suddenly realize how tired I am when my eyes hurt from rubbing them too much. I slide back under the covers, the white material no longer tarnished with my blood, and let my head sink into the pillow.
A/N
Hey guys!!!
How did you like the first chapter of Duplicity?
(I really hope you loved it :D)
So as you know, this will be on hold for an unknown period of time until I finish a decent amount of chapters. I'll keep you updated.
So yeah. Hope you liked it.
QOTD: what colour is your hair?
Thanks for reading, commenting, voting, and sharing!
Until next time,
~Tori