Lynn, who is sitting on the next bunk, snorts. “I don’t see how he can be flirty, with everything that’s going on.”
“He’s supposed to shuffle around, scowling all the time?” I say, reaching over my shoulder to press the bandage to my skin. “Maybe you can learn something from him.”
“You’re one to talk,” she says. “You’re always moping. We should start calling you Beatrice Prior, Queen of Tragedy.”
I stand and punch her arm, harder than if I was kidding, softer than if I was serious. “Shut up.”
Without looking at me, she shoves my shoulder into the bunk. “I don’t take orders from Stiffs.”
I notice a slight curl in her lip and suppress a grin myself.
“Ready to go?” Lynn says.
“Where are you going?” Tobias says, slipping between his bunk and mine to stand in the aisle with us. My mouth feels dry. I haven’t spoken to him all day, and I’m not sure what to expect. Will it be awkward, or will we go back to normal?
“Top of the Hancock building to spy on Erudite,” Lynn says. “Want to come?”
Tobias gives me a look. “No, I’ve got a few things to take care of here. But be careful.”
I nod. I know why he doesn’t want to come—Tobias tries to avoid heights, if at all possible. He touches my arm, holding me back for just a moment. I tense up—he hasn’t touched me since before our fight—and he releases me.
“I’ll see you later,” he mutters. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Thanks for that vote of confidence,” I say, frowning.
“I didn’t mean that,” he says. “I meant don’t let anyone else do anything stupid. They’ll listen to you.”
He leans toward me like he’s going to kiss me, then seems to think better of it and leans back, biting his lip. It’s a small act, but it still feels like rejection. I avoid his eyes and run after Lynn.
Lynn and I walk down the hallway toward the elevator bank. Some of the Dauntless have started to mark the walls with colored squares. Candor headquarters is like a maze to them, and they want to learn to navigate it. I know only how to get to the most basic places: the sleeping area, the cafeteria, the lobby, the interrogation room.
“Why did everyone leave Dauntless headquarters?” I say. “The traitors aren’t there, are they?”
“No, they’re at Erudite headquarters. We left because Dauntless headquarters has the most surveillance cameras of any area in the city,” Lynn says. “We knew the Erudite could probably access all the footage, and that it would take forever to find all the cameras, so we thought it was best to just leave.”
“Smart.”
“We have our moments.”
Lynn jabs her finger into the button for the first floor. I stare at our reflections in the doors. She’s taller than I am by just a few inches, and though her baggy shirt and pants try to obscure it, I can tell that her body bends and curves like it’s supposed to.
“What?” she says, scowling at me.
“Why did you shave your head?”
“Initiation,” she says. “I love Dauntless, but Dauntless guys don’t see Dauntless girls as a threat during initiation. I got sick of it. So I figured, if I don’t look so much like a girl, maybe they won’t look at me that way.”
“I think you could have used being underestimated to your advantage.”
“Yeah, and what? Acted all faint every time something scary came around?” Lynn rolls her eyes. “Do you think I have zero dignity or something?”
“I think a mistake the Dauntless make is refusing to be cunning,” I say. “You don’t always have to smack people in the face with how strong you are.”
“Maybe you should dress in blue from now on,” she says, “if you’re going to act like such an Erudite. Plus, you do the same thing, but without the head shaving.”
I slip out of the elevator before I say something I’ll regret. Lynn is quick to forgive, but quick to ignite, like most Dauntless. Like me, except for the “quick to forgive” part.
As usual, a few Dauntless with large guns cross back and forth in front of the doors, watching for intruders. Just in front of them stands a small group of younger Dauntless, including Uriah; Marlene; Lynn’s sister, Shauna; and Lauren, who taught the Dauntless-born initiates as Four taught the faction transfers during initiation. Her ear gleams when she moves her head—it is pierced from top to bottom.
Lynn stops short, and I step on her heel. She swears.
“What a charmer you are,” says Shauna, smiling at Lynn. They don’t look much alike, except for their hair color, which is a medium brown, but Shauna’s is chin length, like mine.
“Yes, that’s my goal. To be charming,” Lynn replies.
Shauna drapes an arm across Lynn’s shoulders. It’s strange to see Lynn with a sister—to see Lynn with a connection to someone at all. Shauna glances at me, her smile disappearing. She looks wary.
“Hi,” I say, because there’s nothing else to say.
“Hello,” she says.
“Oh God, Mom’s gotten to you, too, hasn’t she.” Lynn covers her face with one hand. “Shauna—”
“Lynn. Keep your mouth shut for once,” says Shauna, her eyes still on me. She seems tense, like she thinks I might attack her at any moment. With my special brainpowers.
“Oh!” says Uriah, rescuing me. “Tris, do you know Lauren?”
“Yeah,” Lauren says, before I can answer. Her voice is sharp and clear, like she’s scolding him, except it seems to be the way she naturally sounds. “She went through my fear landscape for practice during initiation. So she knows me better than she should, probably.”
“Really? I thought the transfers would go through Four’s landscape,” says Uriah.
“Like he would let anyone do that,” she says, snorting.
Something inside me gets warm and soft. He let me go through it.
I see a flicker of blue over Lauren’s shoulder, and peer around her to get a better look.
Then the guns go off.
The glass doors explode into fragments. Dauntless soldiers with blue armbands stand on the sidewalk outside, carrying guns I’ve never seen before, guns with narrow, blue beams of light streaming from above their barrels.
“Traitors!” someone screams.
The Dauntless draw their guns, almost in unison. I do not have one to draw, so I duck behind the wall of loyal Dauntless in front of me, my shoes crunching pieces of glass beneath their soles, and pull my knife out of my back pocket.
All around me, people drop to the ground. My fellow faction members. My closest friends. All of them falling—they must be dead, or dying—as the earsplitting bang of bullets filling my ears.
Then I freeze. One of the blue beams is fixed on my chest. I dive sideways to get out of the line of fire, but I don’t move fast enough.
The gun goes off. I fall.
Chapter Fifteen
THE PAIN SUBSIDES to a dull ache. I slide my hand under my jacket and feel for the wound.
I’m not bleeding. But the force of the gunshot knocked me down, so I had to have been hit with something. I run my fingers over my shoulder, and feel a hard bump where the skin used to be smooth.