Okay this isn't an update but I'm giving you guys four chapters from divergent. Okay here it is.
Divergent: Free Read Online, Chapter 31
Chapter 31
THE LIGHTS COME on. I stand alone in the empty room with the concrete walls, shaking. I sink to my knees, wrapping my arms around my chest. It wasn't cold when I walked in, but it feels cold now. I rub my arms to get rid of the goose bumps. I have never felt relief like this before. Every muscle in my body relaxes at once and I breathe freely again. I can't imagine going through my fear landscape in my spare time, like Tobias does. It seemed like bravery to me before, but now it seems more like masochism. The door opens, and I stand. Max, Eric, Tobias, and a few people I don't know walk into the room in a line, standing in a small crowd in front of me. Tobias smiles at me. "Congratulations, Tris," says Eric. "You have successfully completed your final evaluation." I try to smile.
It doesn't work. I can't shake the memory o f the gun against my head. I can still feel the barrel between my eyebrows. "Thank s," I say. "There is one more thing before you can go and get ready for the welcoming banquet," he says. He beckons to one of the unfamiliar people behind him. A woman with blue hair hands him a small black case. He opens it and takes out a syringe and a long needle. I tense up at the sight of it. The orange-brown liquid in the syringe reminds me of what they inject us with before simulations. And I am supposed to be finished with those. "At least you aren't afraid of needles," he says. "This will inject you with a tracking device that will be activated only if you are reported missing. Just a precaution." "How often do people go missing?" I ask, frowning. "Not often." Eric smirks. "This is a new development, courtesy of the Erudite. We have been injecting every Dauntless throughout the day, and I assume all other factions will comply as soon as possible." My stomach twists. I can't let him inject me with anything, especially not anything developed by Erudite-maybe even by Jeanine. But I also can't refuse. I can't refuse or he will doubt my loyalty again. "All right," I say, my throat tight. Eric approaches me with the needle and syringe in h and. I pull my hair away from my neck and tilt my head to the side. I look away as Eric wipes my neck with an antiseptic wipe and eases the needle into my skin.
The deep ache spreads through my neck, painful but brief. He puts the needle back in its case and sticks an adhesive bandage on the injection site.
"The banquet is in two hours," he says. "Your ranking among the other initiates, Daunt less-born included, will be announced then. Good luck." The small crowd files out of the room, but Tobias lingers. He pauses by the door and beckons for me to follow him, so I do. The glass room above the Pit is full of Dauntless, some of the m walking the ropes above our heads, some talking and laughing in groups. He smiles at me. He must not have been watching. "I heard a rumor that you only had seven obstacles to face," he says. "Practically unheard of." "You...you weren't watching the simulation?" "Only on the screens.
The Dauntless leaders are the only ones who see the whole thing," he says. "They seemed impressed." "Well, seven fears isn't as impressive as four," I reply, "but it will suffice." "I would be surprised if you weren't ranked first," he says. We walk into the glass room. The crowd is still there, but it is thinner now that the last person-me-has gone. People notice me after a few seconds. I stay close to Tobias's side as they point, but I can't walk fast enough to avoid some cheer s, some claps on the shoulder, some congratulations.
As I look at the people around me, I realize how strange they would look to my father and brother, and how normal they seem to me, despite all the metal rings in their faces and the tattoos on their arms and throats and chests. I smile back at them. We descend the steps into the Pit and I say, "I have a question." I bite my lip. "How much did they tell ll you about my fear landscape?" "Nothing, really. Why?" he says. "No reason." I kick a pebble to the side of the path. "Do you have to go back to the dormitory?" he asks. "Because if you want peace and quiet, you can stay with me until the banquet." My stomach twists. "What is it?" he asks. I don't want to go back to the dormitory, and I don't want to be afraid of him. "Let's go," I say.
He closes the door behind us and slips off his shoes. "Want some water?" he says. "No thanks." I hold my hands in front of me.
"You okay?" he says, touching my cheek. His hand cradles the side of my head, his long fingers slipping through my hair. He smiles and holds my head in place as he kisses me. Heat spreads through me slowly. And fear, buzzing like an alarm in my chest. His lips still on mine, he pushes the jacket from my shoulders. I flinch when I hear it drop, and push him back, my eyes burning. I don't know why I feel this way. I didn't feel like this when he kissed me on the train. I press my palms to my face, covering my eyes. "What? What's wrong?" I shake my head. "Don't tell me it's no thing." His voice is cold. He grabs my arm. "Hey. Look at me." I take my hands from my face and lift my eyes to his.
The hurt in his eyes and the anger in his clenched jaw surprise me. "Sometimes I wonder," I say, as calmly as I can, "what's in it for you. This...whatever it is." "What's in it for me," he repeats. He steps back, shaking his head. "You're an idiot, Tris." "I am not an idiot," I say. "Which is why I know that it's a lit e weird that, of all the girls you could have chosen, you chose me. So if you're just looking for...um, you know ...that..." "What? Sex?" He scowls at me. "You know, if that was all I wanted, you probably wouldn't be the first person I would go to." I feel like he just punched me in the stomach. Of course I'm not the first person he would go to-not the first, not the prettiest, not desirable. I press my hands to my abdomen and look away, fighting off tears. I am not the crying type. Nor am I the yelling type. I blink a few times, lower my hands, and stare up at him. "I'm going to leave now," I say quietly. And I turn toward the door. "No, Tris." He grabs my wrist and wrenches me back. I push him away, hard, but he grabs my other wrist, holding our crossed arms between us. "I'm sorry I said that," he says. "What I meant was that you aren't like that. Which I knew when I met you." "You were an obstacle in my fear landscape." My lower lip wobbles. "Did you know that?" "What?" He releases my wrists, and the hurt look is back. "You're afraid of me?" "Not you," I say. I bite my lip to keep it still. "Being with you...with anyone. I've never been involved with someone before, and...you're older, and I don't know what your expectations are, and..." "Tris," he says sternly, "I don't know what delusion you're operating under, but this is all new to me, too." "Delusion?" I repeat. "You mean you haven't..." I raise my eyebrows. "Oh.
I just assumed..." That because I am so absorbed by him, everyone else must be too. "Um. You know." "Well, you assumed wrong." He looks away. His cheeks are bright, like he's embarrassed. "You can tell me anything, you know," he says. He takes my face in his hands, his fingertips cold and his palms warm. "I am kinder than I seemed in training. I promise." I believe him. But this has nothing to do with his kindness. He kisses me between the eyebrows, and on the tip of my nose, and then carefully fit s his mouth to mine. I am on edge.
I have electricity coursing through my veins instead of blood. I want him to kiss me, I want him to; I am afraid of where it might go. His hands shift to my shoulders, and his fingers brush over the edge o f my bandage. He pulls back with a puckered brow. "Are you hurt?" he asks. "No. It's ano ther tattoo. It's healed, I just...wanted to keep it covered up." "Can I see?" I nod, my throat tight. I pull my sleeve down and slip my shoulder out of it. He stares down at my shoulder for a second, and then runs his fingers over it. They rise and fall with my bones, which stick out farther than I'd like. When he touches me, I feel like everywhere his skin meets mine is changed by the connection. It sends a thrill through my stomach. Not just fear. Something else, too. A wanting. He peels the corner of the bandage away. His eyes roam over the symbol of Abnegation, and he smiles. "I have the same one," he says, laughing. "On my back." "Really? Can I see i t?" He presses the bandage over the tattoo and pulls my shirt back over my shoulder. "Are you asking me to undress, Tris?" A nervous laugh gurgles from my throat. "Only...partially." He nods, his smile suddenly fading. He lifts his eyes to mine and unzip s his sweatshirt. It slides from his shoulders, and he tosses it onto the desk c hair. I don't feel like laughing now. All I can do is stare at him. His eyebrows pull to the center of his forehead, and he grabs the hem of his T-shirt. In one swift motion, he pulls it over his head. A patch of Dauntless flames covers his right side, but other than that, his chest is unmarked. He averts his eyes. "What i s it?" I ask, frowning. He looks...uncomfortable.
"I don't invite many people to look at me," he says. "Any people, actually." "I can't imaging why," I say softly. "I mean, look at you." I walk slowly around him. On his back is mo re ink than skin. The symbols of each faction are drawn there-Dauntless at the top of his spine, Abnegation just below it, and the other three, smaller, beneath t hem. For a few seconds I look at the scales that represent Candor, the eye that stands for Erudite, and the tree that symbolizes Amity. It makes sense that he would tattoo himself with the symbol of Dauntless, his refuge, and even the symbol of Abnegation, his place of origin, like I did. But the other three? "I think we've made a mistake," he says softly. "We've all started to put down the virtues of the other factions in the process of bolstering our own. I don't want to do that. I wan t to be brave, and selfless, and smart, and kind, and honest." He clears his throat. "I continually struggle with kindness." "No one's perfect," I whisper. "It doesn't work t t way. One bad thing goes away, and another bad thing replaces it." I traded cowardice for cruelty; I traded weakness for ferocity. I brush over Abnegation's symbol with my fingertips. "We have to warn them, you know. Soon." "I know," he says. "We will." H
e turns toward me. I want to touch him, but I'm afraid of his bareness; afraid that he will make me bare too. "Is this scaring you, Tris?" "No," I croak. I clear my throat. "Not really. I'm only...afraid of what I want." "What do you want?" Then his face tightens.
"Me?" Slowly I nod. He nods too, and takes my hands in his gently. He guides my pall ms to his stomach. His eyes lowered, he pushes my hands up, over his abdomen and over his chest, and holds them against his neck. My palms tingle with the feel of his skin, smooth, warm. My face is hot, but I shiver anyway. He looks at me. "Someday," he says, "if you still want me, we can..." He pauses, clears his throat. "We can..." I ilea little and wrap my arms around him before he finishes, pressing the side o f my face to his chest. I feel his heartbeat against my cheek, as fast as my own. "Are you afraid of me, too, Tobias?" "Terrified," he replies with a smile. I turn my head and kiss the hollow beneath his throat. "Maybe you won't be in my fear landscape anymore," I murmur.
He bends his head and kisses me slowly. "Then everyone can call you Six." "Four and Six," I say. We kiss again, and this time, it feels familiar. I know exactly how we fit together, his arm around my waist, my hands on his chest, the pressure of hi s lips on mine. We have each other memorized.
Chapter 32
I WATCH TOBIAS ' S face carefully as we walk to the dining hall, searching for any sign of disappointment. We spent the two hours lying on his bed, talking and kissing and eventually dozing until we heard shouts in the hallway-people on their way to the banquet. If anything, he seems lighter now than he was before. He smiles more, anyway.
When we reach the entrance, we separate. I go in first, and run to the table Is hare with Will and Christina. He enters second, a minute later, and sits down next to Zeke, who hands him a dark bottle. He waves it away. "Where did you go?" asks Christina. "Everyone else went back to the dormitory." "I just wandered around," I say. "I was too nervous to talk to everyone else about it." "You have no reason to be nervous," Christina says, shaking her head. "I turned around to talk to Will for one second, and you were already done." I detect a note of jealousy in her voice, and again, I wish I could explain that I was well prepared for the simulation, because o f what I am. Instead I just shrug. "What job are you going to pick?" I ask her. "I'm thinking I might want a job like Four's.
Training initiates," she says. "Scaring the living daylights out of them. You know, fun stuff. What about you?" I was so focused o n getting through initiation that I barely thought about it. I could work for the Dauntless leaders-but they would kill me if they discover what I am. What else i s there? "I guess...I could be an ambassador to the other factions," I say. "I think being a transfer would help me." "I was so hoping you would say Dauntless-leader-in-training," sighs Christina. "Because that's what Peter wants. He couldn't shut up about it in the dorm earlier." "And it's what I want," adds Will. "Hopefully I ranked higher than him...o h, and all the Dauntless-born initiates.
Forgot about them." He groans. "Oh God. This is going to be impossible." "No, it isn't," she says. Christina reaches for his hand and laces her fingers with his, like it's the most natural thing in the world. Will squeezes her hand. "Question," says Christina, leaning forward. "The leaders who were watching your fear landscape...they were laughing about something." "Oh?" I bite my lip hard. "I'm glad my terror amuses them." "Any idea which obstacle it was?" she asks. "No."
"You're lying," she says. "You always bite the inside of your cheek when you lie. It's you r tell." I stop biting the inside of my cheek. "Will's is pinching his lips together, if it makes you feel better," she adds. Will covers his mouth immediately. "Okay, fine. I was afraid of...intimacy," I say. "Intimacy," repeats Christina. "Like...sex?" I tense up. And force myself to nod. Even if it was just Christina, and no one else was around, I would still want to strangle her right now. I go over a few ways to inflict maximum injury with minimum force in my head. I try to throw flames from my eye s. Will laughs. "What was that like?" she says. "I mean, did someone just...try to do it with you? Who was it?" "Oh, you know. Faceless...unidentifiable male," I say. "How were your moths?" "You promised you would never tell!" cries Christina, smacking my arm. "Moths," repeats Will. "You're afraid of moths?" "Not just a cloud of moths," she says, "like...a swarm o them. Everywhere. All those wings and legs and..."
She shudders and shakes her head. "Terrifying," Will says with mock seriousness. "That's my girl. Tough as cotton balls." "Oh, shut up." A microphone squeals somewhere, so loud I clap my hands over my ears. I look across the room at Eric, who stands on one of the tables with the microphone in hand, tapping it with his fingertips. After the tapping is done and the crowd of Dauntless is quiet, Eric clears his throat and begins. "We aren't big on speeches here.
Eloquence is for Erudite," he says. The crowd laughs. I wonder if they know that he was an Erudite once; that under all the pretense of Dauntless recklessness and even brutality, he is more like an Erudite than anything else. If the y did, I doubt they would laugh at him. "So I'm going to keep this short. It's a new year, and we have a new pack of initiates. And a slightly smaller pack of new members. We offer them our congratulations." At the word "congratulations" the room erupt s, not into applause, but into the pounding of fists on tabletops.
The noise vibrates in my chest, and I grin. "We believe in bravery. We believe in taking action. We believe in freedom from fear and in acquiring the skills to force the bad out of our world so that the good can prosper and thrive. If you also believe in those things, we welcome you." Even though I know Eric probably doesn't believe in any of those things, I find myself smiling, because I believe in them. No matter how badly the leaders have warped the Dauntless ideals, those ideals can still belong to me. More pounding fists, this time accompanied by whoops. "Tomorrow, in their first act as members, our top ten initiates will choose their professions, in the order of how they are ranked," Eric says. "The rankings, I know, are what everyone is really waiting for.
They are determined by a combination of three scores-the first, from the combat stage of training; the second, from the simulation stage; and the third, from the final examination, the fear landscape. The rankings will appear on the screen behind me." A s soon as the word "me" leaves his mouth, the names appear on the screen, which is almost as large as the wall itself. Next to the number one is my picture, and the name "Tris." A weight in my chest lifts. I didn't realize it was there until it was g one, and I didn't have to feel it anymore. I smile, and a tingling spreads through me.
First. Divergent or not, this faction is where I belong. I forget about war; I forget about death. Will's arms wrap around me and he gives me a bear hug. I hear cheering and laughing and shouting. Christina points at the screen, her eyes wide and filled with tears. 1. Tris 2. Uriah 3. Lynn 4. Marlene 5. Peter Peter stays. I suppress a sigh. But then I read the rest of the names. 6. Will 7. Christina I smile, and Christina reaches across the table to hug me. I am too distracted to protest against the affection. She laughs in my ear. Someone grabs me from behind and shouts in my ear. It's Uriah. I can't turn around, so I reach back and squeeze his shoulder. "Congratulations!" I shout. "You beat them!" he shouts back. He releases me, laughing, and runs into a crowd of Dauntless-born initiates. I crane my neck to look at the screen again. I follow the list down. Eight, nine, and t en are Dauntless-borns whose names I barely recognize. Eleven and twelve are Molly and Drew.
Molly and Drew are cut. Drew, who tried to run away while Peter held me by the throat over the chasm, and Molly, who fed the Erudite lies about my father, are factionless. It isn't quite the victory I wanted, but it's a victory nonetheless. Will ll and Christina kiss, a little too sloppily for my taste. All around me is the pounding of Dauntless fists. Then I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see Tobias standing behind me. I get up, beaming. "You think giving you a hug would give away too much?" he says. "You know," I say, "I really don't care." I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his. It is the best moment of my life. A moment later, Tobias's thumb brushes over the injection site in my neck, and a few things come together at once. I don't know how I didn't figure this out before. One: Colored serum contains transmitters. Two: Transmitters connect the mind to a simulation program. Three: Erudite developed the serum. Four: Eric and Max are working with the Erudite. I break away from the kiss and stare wide-eyed at Tobias. "Tris?" he says, confused. I shake my head. "Not now." I meant to say not here. Not with Will and Christina standing a foot away from me-staring with open mouths, probably because I just kissed Tobias-and the clamor of the Dauntless surrounding us. But he has to know how important it is. "Later," I say. "Okay?" He nods. I don't even know how I'll explain it later. I don't even know how to think straight. But I do know how Erudite will get us to fight.
Divergent: Free Read Online, Chapter 33
Chapter 33
I TRY TO get Tobias alone after the rankings are announced, but the crowd of initiates an d members is too thick, and the force of their congratulations pulls him away from me. I decide to sneak out of the dormitory after everyone is asleep and find him, but the fear landscape exhausted me more than I realized, so soon enough, I drift off too. I wake to squeaking mattresses and shuffling feet. It's too dark f or me to see clearly, but as my eyes adjust, I see that Christina is tying her shoelaces. I open my mouth to ask her what she's doing, but then I notice that across from me, Will is putting on a shirt.
Everyone is awake, but everyone is silent. "Christina," I hiss. She doesn't look at me, so I grab her shoulder and shake it. "Christina!" She just keeps tying her shoelaces. My stomach squeezes when I see her f ace. Her eyes are open, but blank, and her facial muscles are slack. She moves without looking at what she's doing, her mouth half-open, not awake but seeming awake. And everyone else looks just like her. "Will?" I ask, crossing the room. All the initiates fall into a line when they finish dressing. They start to file silent ly out of the dormitory. I grab Will's arm to keep him from leaving, but he moves forward with irrepressible force. I grit my teeth and hold on as hard as I can, digging my heels into the ground. He just drags me along with him.
They are sleepwalkers. I fumble for my shoes. I can't stay here alone. I tie my shoes in a hurry, pull on a jacket, and sprint out of the room, catching up to the line of initiates quickly, conforming my pace to theirs. It takes me a few seconds to realize that they move in unison, the same foot forward as the same arm swings back. I mimic them as best I can, but the rhythm feels strange to me. We march toward t he Pit, but when we reach the entrance, the front of the line turns left. Max st ands in the hallway, watching us. My heart hammers in my chest and I stare as vacantly as possible ahead of me, focusing on the rhythm of my feet. I tense as I pass him. He'll notice. He'll notice I'm not brain-dead like the rest of them and some thing bad will happen to me, I just know it. Max's dark eyes pass right over me.
We climb a flight of stairs and travel at the same rhythm down four corridors. Th en the hallway opens up to a huge cavern. Inside it is a crowd of Dauntless. The re are rows of tables with mounds of black on them. I can't see what the piles are until I am a foot away from them.
Guns. Of course. Eric said every Dauntless was injected yesterday. So now the entire faction is brain-dead, obedient, and tra ined to kill. Perfect soldiers.
I pick up a gun and a holster and a belt, copying Will, who is directly in front of me.
I try to match his movements, but I can't predict what he's going to do, so I end up f umbling more than I'd like to. I grit my teeth. I just have to trust that no one is watching me. Once I'm armed, I follow Will and the other initiates toward the exit. I can't wage war against Abnegation, against my family. I would rather die. My fear landscape proved that. My list of options narrows, and I see the path I must take. I will pretend long enough to get to the Abnegation sector of the city.
I will save my family. And whatever happens after that doesn't matter. A blanket of calm settles over me. The line of initiates passes into a dark hallway. I can't see Will ahead of me, or anything ahead of him. My foot hits something hard, and I stumble, my hands outstretched. My knee hits something else-a step. I straight en, so tense my teeth are almost chattering.
They didn't see that. It's too dark. Please let it be too dark. As the staircase turns, light flows into the cavern, un till I can finally see Will's shoulders in front of me again. I focus on matching m y rhythm to his as I reach the top of the stairs, passing another Dauntless leader. Now I know who the Dauntless leaders are, because they are the only people w ho are awake. Well, not the only people. I must be awake because I am Divergent.
And if I am awake, that means Tobias is too, unless I am wrong about him. I have to find him. I stand next to the train tracks in a group that stretches as far as I can see with my peripheral vision. The train is stopped in front of us, every car open.
One by one, my fellow initiates climb into the train car in front of us. I can't turn my head to scan the crowd for Tobias, but I let my eyes skirt to the side. The faces on my left are unfamiliar, but I see a tall boy with short hair a few yards to my right. It might not be him, and I can't make sure, but it's the best chance I have. I don't know how to get to him without attracting attention.
I have to get to him. The car in front of me fills up, and Will turns toward the next one. I take my cues from him, but instead of stopping where he stops, I slip a few feet to the right. The people around me are all taller than I am; they will shield me. I step to the right again, clenching my teeth. Too much movement. They will catch me. Please don't catch me. A blank-faced Dauntless in the next car offers a hand to the boy in front of me, and he takes it, his movements robotic. I take the next hand without looking at it, and climb as gracefully as I can into the car. I stand facing the person who helped me. My eyes twitch up, j ust for a second, to see his face.
Tobias, as blank-faced as the rest of them. Was I wrong? Is he not Divergent?
Tears spark behind my eyes, and I blink them back as I turn away from him. People crowd into the car around me, so we stand in four rows, shoulder-toshoulder. And then something peculiar happens: fingers lace with mine, and a palm presses to my palm. Tobias, holding my hand.
My entire body is alive with energy. I squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back. He is awake. I was right. I want to look at him, but I force myself to stand still and keep my eyes forward as the train starts to move. He moves his thumb in a slow circle over the back of my hand. It is meant to comfort me, but it frustrates me instead. I need to talk to him. I need to look at him. I can't see where the train is going because the girl in front of me is so tall, so I stare at the back of her head and focus on Tobias's hand in mine until the rails squeal. I don't know how long I've been standing there, but my back aches, so it must have been a long time. The train screeches to a stop, and my heart pounds so hard it's difficult to breathe. Right before we jump down from the car, I see Tobias turn his head in my periphery, and I glance back at him. His dark eyes are insistent as he say s, "Run." "My family," I say. I look straight ahead again, and jump down from the train car when it's my turn. Tobias walks in front of me.
I should focus on the back of his head, but the streets I walk now are familiar, and the line of Dauntless I follow fades from my attention. I pass the place I went every six months with my mother to pick up new clothes for our family; the bus stop where I once waited i n the morning to get to school; the strip of sidewalk so cracked Caleb and I played a hopping, jumping game to get across it. They are all different now. The buildings are dark and empty. The roads are packed with Dauntless soldiers, all marching at the same rhythm except the officers, who stand every few hundred yards, watching us walk by, or gathering in clusters to discuss something. No one see ms to be doing anything. Are we really here for war? I walk a half mile before I get an answer to that question. I start to hear popping sounds. I can't look around to see where they're coming from, but the farther I walk, the louder and sharper they get, until I recognize them as gunshots. I clench my jaw. I must keep wall king; I have to stare straight ahead. Far ahead of us, I see a Dauntless soldier push a gray-clothed man to his knees. I recognize the man-he is a council member.
The soldier takes her gun out of her holster and, with sightless eyes, fires a bullet into the back of the council member's skull. The soldier has a gray streak in her hair. It's Tori. My steps almost falter. Keep walking. My eyes burn. Keep walking. We march past Tori and the fallen council member. When I step over his h and, I almost burst into tears. Then the soldiers in front of me stop walking, and so do I. I stand as still as I can, but all I want to do is find Jeanine and Eric and Max and shoot them all. My hands are shaking and I can't do anything to s top it. I breathe quickly through my nose.
Another gunshot. From the corner of my left eye, I see a gray blur collapse to t he pavement. All the Abnegation will die if this continues. The Dauntless soldiers carry out unspoken orders without hesitation and without question. Some adult members of Abnegation are herded toward one of the nearby buildings, along with the Abnegation children. A sea of black-clothed soldiers guard the doors. The only people I do not see are the Abnegation leaders. Maybe they are already dead.
One by one, the Dauntless soldiers in front of me step away to perform one task or another. Soon the leaders will notice that whatever signals everyone else is getting, I'm not getting them. What will I do when that happens? "This is insane," coos a male voice on my right. I see a lock of long, greasy hair, and a silver ear ring. Eric. He pokes my cheek with his index finger, and I struggle against the impulse to slap his hand away. "They really can't see us? Or hear us?" a female voice asks. "Oh, they can see and hear. They just aren't processing what they see and hear the same way," says Eric. "They receive commands from our computers in the transmitters we injected them with..." At this, he presses his fingers to the injection site t o show the woman where it is. Stay still, I tell myself. Still, still, still. "...and carry them out seamlessly." Eric shifts a step to the side and leans close to Tobias's face, grinning. "Now, this is a happy sight," he says. "The legendary Four. No one's going to remember that I came in second now, are they? No one's going to ask me, 'What was it like to train with the guy who has only four fears ?'" He draws his gun and points it at Tobias's right temple.
My heart pounds so hard I feel it in my skull. He can't shoot; he wouldn't. Eric tilts his head. "Think anyone would notice if he accidentally got shot?" "Go ahead," the woman says, sounding bored.
She must be a Dauntless leader if she can give Eric permission. "He's nothing now." "Too bad you didn't jus t take Max up on his offer, Four. Well, too bad for you, anyway," says Eric quietly, as he clicks the bullet into its chamber. My lungs burn; I haven't breathed in almost a minute. I see Tobias's hand twitch in the corner of my eye, but my hand i s already on my gun. I press the barrel to Eric's forehead. His eyes widen, and hi s face goes slack, and for a second he looks like another sleeping Dauntless soldier. My index finger hovers over the trigger. "Get your gun away from his head," I say. "You won't shoot me," Eric replies. "Interesting theory," I say.
But I can't murder him; I can't. I grit my teeth and shift my arm down, firing at Eric's foot. He screams and grabs his foot with both hands. The moment his gun is no longer pointed at Tobias's head, Tobias draws his gun and fires at Eric's friend's leg.
I don't wait to see if the bullet hits her. I grab Tobias's arm and sprint. If we can make it to the alley, we can disappear into the buildings and they won't find us. There are two hundred yards to go. I hear footsteps behind us, but I don't look back. Tobias grabs my hand and squeezes, pulling me forward, faster than I have ever run, faster than I can run. I stumble behind him.
I hear a gunshot. The pain is sharp and sudden, beginning in my shoulder and spreading outward with electric fingers. A scream stops in my throat, and I fall, my cheek scraping the pavement. I lift my head to see Tobias's knees by my face, and yell ll, "Run!" His voice is calm and quiet as he replies, "No." In seconds we are surrounded.
Tobias helps me up, supporting my weight. I have trouble focusing through the pain. Dauntless soldiers surround us and point their guns. "Divergent rebels," Eric says, standing on one foot. His face is a sickly white. "Surrender your weapons."
Divergent: Free Read Online, Chapter 34
Chapter 34
I LEAN HEAVILY on Tobias. A gun barrel pressed to my spine urges me forward, through the front doors of Abnegation headquarters, a plain gray building, two stories high.
Blood trickles down my side. I'm not afraid of what's coming; I'm in too much pain to think about it. The gun barrel pushes me toward a door guarded by two Dauntless soldiers.
Tobias and I walk through it and enter a plain office that contains just a desk, a computer, and two empty chairs. Jeanine sits behind the desk, a phone against her ear. "Well, send some of them back on the train, then," she says. "It needs to be well guarded, it's the most important part-I'm not talk-I have to go." She snaps the phone shut and focuses her gray eyes on me.
They remind me of melted steel. "Divergent rebels," one of the Dauntless says. He must be a Dauntless leader-or maybe a recruit who was removed from the simulation. "Yes, I can see that." She takes her glasses off, folds them, and sets them on the desk. She probably wears the glasses out of vanity rather than necessity, because she thinks they make her look smart er-my father said so. "You," she says, pointing at me, "I expected. All the trouble with your aptitude test results made me suspicious from the beginning. But you..." She shakes her head as she shifts her eyes to Tobias. "You, Tobias-or should I call you Four?-managed to elude me," she says quietly. "Everything about you checked out: test results, initiation simulations, everything.
But here you are nonetheless." She folds her hands and sets her chin on top of them. "Perhaps you could explain to me how that is?" "You're the genius," he says coolly. "Why don't you tell me?" Her mouth curls into smile. "My theory is that you really do belong in Abnegation. That your Divergence is weaker." She smiles wider. Like she's amused. I grit my teeth and consider lunging across the table and strangling her. If I didn't have a bullet in my shoulder, I might. "Your powers of deductive reasoning are stunning," spits Tobias. "Consider m e awed." I look sideways at him. I had almost forgotten about this side of him-the p art that is more likely to explode than to lie down and die. "Now that your intelligence has been verified, you might want to get on with killing us." Tobias closes his eyes. "You have a lot of Abnegation leaders to murder, after all." If Tobias's comments bother Jeanine, she doesn't let on. She keeps smiling and stands smoothly.
She wears a blue dress that hugs her body from shoulder to knee, revealing a layer of pudge around her middle. The room spins as I try to focus on her face, and I slump against Tobias for support. He slides his arm around me, supporting me from the waist. "Don't be silly. There is no rush," she says lightly. "You are both here for an extremely important purpose. You see, it perplexed me that the Divergent were immune to the serum that I developed, so I have been working to remedy that.
I thought I might have, with the last batch, but as you know, I was wrong. Luckily I have another batch to test." "Why bother?" She and the Dauntless leaders had no problem killing the Divergent in the past. Why would it be any different now? She smirks at me. "I have had a question since I began the Dauntless project, and it is this." She sidesteps her desk, skimming the surface with her finger. "Why are most of the Divergent weak-willed, God-fearing nobodies from Abnegation, of all factions?" I didn't know that most of the Divergent came from Abnegation, and I don't know why that would be. And I probably won't live long enough to figure i t out. "Weak-willed," Tobias scoffs. "It requires a strong will to manipulate a simulation, last time I checked. Weak-willed is mind-controlling an army because it's to o hard for you to train one yourself." "I am not a fool," says Jeanine. "A faction of intellectuals is no army. We are tired of being dominated by a bunch of self-righteous idiots who reject wealth and advancement, but we couldn't do this on our own.
And your Dauntless leaders were all too happy to oblige me if I guaranteed them a place in our new, improved government." "Improved," Tobias says, snorting. "Yes, improved," Jeanine says. "Improved, and working toward a world in which people will live in wealth, comfort, and prosperity." "At whose expense?" I ask, my voice thick and sluggish. "All that wealth...doesn't come from nowhere." "Currently, the factionless are a drain on our resources," Jeanine replies. "As is Abnegation. I am sure that once the re mains of your old faction are absorbed into the Dauntless army, Candor will cooperate and we will finally be able to get on with things." Absorbed into the Dauntless army. I know what that means-she wants to control them, too. She wants everyone to be pliable and easy to control. "Get on with things," Tobias repeats bitterly.
He raises his voice. "Make no mistake. You will be dead before the day is out, you-" "Perhaps if you could control your temper," Jeanine says, her words cutting cleanly a cross Tobias's, "you would not be in this situation to begin with, Tobias." "I'm in this situation because you put me here," he snaps. "The second you orchestrated an attack against innocent people."
"Innocent people." Jeanine laughs. "I find that a little funny, coming from you. I would expect Marcus's son to understand that not all those people are innocent." She perches on the edge of the desk, her skirt pulling away from her knees, which are crossed with stretch marks. "Can you tell me honestly that you wouldn't be happy to discover that your father was killed in the attack?" "No," says Tobias through gritted teeth. "But at least his evil didn't involve the widespread manipulation of an entire faction and the systematic murder of every political leader we have."
They star e at each other for a few seconds, long enough to make me feel tense to my core, and then Jeanine clears her throat. "What I was going to say," she says, "is that soon, dozens of the Abnegation and their young children will be my responsibility to keep in order, and it does not bode well for me that a large number of them maybe Divergent like yourselves, incapable of being controlled by the simulations." She stands and walks a few steps to the left, her hands clasped in front of her.
Her nail beds, like mine, are bitten raw. "Therefore, it was necessary that I develop a new form of simulation to which they are not immune. I have been forced to reassess my own assumptions. That is where you come in." She paces a few steps to the right. "You are correct to say that you are strong-willed. I cannot control your will. But there are a few things I can control." She stops and turns to face us. I lean my temple into Tobias's shoulder. Blood trails down my back. The pain has been so constant for the past few minutes that I have gotten used to it, like a person gets used to a siren's wail if it remains consistent. She presses her p alms together. I see no vicious glee in her eyes, and not a hint of the sadism I expect. She is more machine than maniac. She sees problems and forms solutions based on the data she collects. Abnegation stood in the way of her desire for power, so she found a way to eliminate it. She didn't have an army, so she found one in Dauntless. She knew that she would need to control large groups of people in order to stay secure, so she developed a way to do it with serums and transmitters. Divergence is just another problem for her to solve, and that is what makes her so terrifying-because she is smart enough to solve anything, even the problem of our existence. "I can control what you see and hear," she says. "So I created a new serum that will adjust your surroundings to manipulate your will.
Those who re fuse to accept our leadership must be closely monitored." Monitored-or robbed of free will. She has a gift with words. "You will be the first test subject, Tobias. Beatrice, however..." She smiles. "You are too injured to be of much use to me, so your execution will occur at the conclusion of this meeting." I try to hide the shudder t hat goes through me at the word "execution," my shoulder screaming with pain, and look up at Tobias. It's hard to blink the tears back when I see the terror in Tobias's wide, dark eyes. "No," says Tobias. His voice trembles, but his look is stern as he shakes his head. "I would rather die." "I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice in the matter," replies Jeanine lightly.
Tobias takes my face in his hands roughly and kisses me, the pressure of his lips pushing mine apart. I forget my pain and the terror of approaching death and for a moment, I am grateful that the memory of that kiss will be fresh in my mind as I meet my end. Then he releases me and I have to lean against the wall for support. With no more warning than the tightening of his muscles, Tobias lunges across the desk and w raps his hands around Jeanine's throat. Dauntless guards by the door leap at him, their guns held ready, and I scream. It takes two Dauntless soldiers to pull Tobias away from Jeanine and shove him to the ground. One of the soldiers pins him, his knees on Tobias's shoulders and his hands on Tobias's head, pressing his face t o the carpet. I lunge toward them, but another guard slams his hands against my shoulders, forcing me against the wall. I am weak from blood loss and too small.
Jeanine braces herself against the desk, spluttering and gasping. She rubs her throat, which is bright red with Tobias's fingerprints. No matter how mechanicals he seems, she's still human; there are tears in her eyes as she takes a box from her desk drawer and opens it, revealing a needle and syringe. Still breathing heavily, she carries it toward Tobias. Tobias grits his teeth and elbows one of the guards in the face. The guard slams the heel of his gun into the side of Tobias's head, and Jeanine sticks the needle into Tobias's neck. He goes limp.
A sound esc apes my mouth, not a sob or a scream, but a croaking, scraping moan that sounds detached, like it is coming from someone else. "Let him up," says Jeanine, her voice scratchy. The guard gets up, and so does Tobias. He does not look like the sleep walking Dauntless soldiers; his eyes are alert. He looks around for a few seconds as if confused by what he sees. "Tobias," I say. "Tobias!" "He doesn't know you," says Jeine. Tobias looks over his shoulder. His eyes narrow and he starts toward me, fast.
Before the guards can stop him, he closes a hand around my throat, squeezing my trachea with his fingertips. I choke, my face hot with blood. "The simulation manipulates him," says Jeanine. I can barely hear her over the pounding in my ears. "By altering what he sees-making him confuse enemy with friend." One of the guards pulls Tobias off me. I gasp, drawing a rattling breath into my lungs. He is gone.
Controlled by the simulation, he will now murder the people he called innocent not three minutes ago. Jeanine killing him would have hurt less than this. "The advantage to this version of the simulation," she says, her eyes alight, "is that he can act independently, and is therefore far more effective than a mindless soldier."
She looks at the guards who hold Tobias back. He struggles against them, his muscles taut, his eyes focused on me, but not seeing me, not seeing me the way they used to. "Send him to the control room. We'll want a sentient being there to monitor things and, as I understand it, he used to work there." Jeanine presses her palms together in front of her. "And take her to room B13," she says.
She flaps her hand to dismiss me. That flapping hand commands my execution, but to her it is just crossing off an item from a list of tasks, the only logical progression of the particular path that she is on. She surveys me without feeli ng as two Dauntless soldiers pull me out of the room. They drag me down the hall way. I feel numb inside, but outside I am a screaming, thrashing force of will.
I bite a hand that belongs to the Dauntless man on my right and smile as I taste blood. Then he hits me, and there is nothing.
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Okay there you go. Four chapters from divergent. All credit goes to Veronica Roth and the internet for having all three books typed up online. I will update TOMMOROW.