The Iron Soldier: A FourTris Divergent Story

Chapter 32

AN: Thanks again to my beta reader Eunice339, for taking the time to explain the things I don't get. I don't know how you got so good at this, but it makes me sound like a genius.

It's only a matter of moments before I hear the clang of keys at the door. Eric whips it open a second later, his face showing visible strain in comparison to our last visit. "You must be really good in the sack. Dickhead found us a lot quicker than I thought he would. That means a slight change of plans."

He stomps toward me, wasting no time by yanking me up to a standing position. I try to look confident as I say, "You're as good as dead, you know."

"Shut your trap. You don't know a thing about me, or Tobias for that matter. You've got a bit of a shock coming to you. I can't wait to see your face when he turns against you and rejoins us." He lets out a snicker. "This ought to be quite the show."

"You are completely insane. Do you really think he's going to side with you? After you killed Carlos and his other friends, and who knows what else you've done? He hates you."

"Yeah, I'm well aware of that. But as soon as he realizes who you are, he's gonna hate you even more." Eric grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him as he brings his face closer to mine. "I can't believe he hasn't figured it out yet. You have the same soulless eyes."

I yank my chin away with a quick jerk of my head. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"It really doesn't matter at this point."

Eric reaches into one of the lower pockets of his camo pants and produces a syringe filled with a yellowish fluid. I feel the adrenaline rush through my veins as panic threatens to overcome me. "What's that?"

"This?" He holds it up to my face. "This is an insurance plan." He looks me in the eyes. "Just in case things don't go as planned, this will ensure you have a painful death. It takes about twenty-four hours to take full effect. That will give me plenty of time to make you suffer before I kill you. But if something goes wrong, this will put us back on track."

Without another word, he pulls the cap off the long needle with his teeth, spits it onto the floor, and then plunges it through the soft skin of my neck, injecting only half the contents of the tube.

My hand flies up to my neck as the injection site starts to burn immediately, my teeth clenching from the neck spasms. I can feel the fluid spreading throughout my veins.

"I'd love to give you the full dose. It would make it hurt more, but that would speed up the process a little too much, and then I wouldn't get to have any fun." He smiles wickedly, bringing bile up to my throat, before tossing the syringe outside the door. I hear a small ting as it lands.

His eyes are locked onto mine as I force the fear to the back of my mind. "Do you want to know what that stuff is going to do to you?"

I grit my teeth and with bravery I didn't know I had, spit in his face.

Eric closes his eyes. His ugly smile disappears as he wipes my assault off with his shirt-sleeve. When he opens his eyes again, they are filled with anger. He brings his hand up and slaps me across the face. I manage to absorb the blow and stay on my feet, yet I have no idea how.

He takes a large step back before smiling again. "God, you're just like her. Stubborn till the end."

"Her?" Doesn't he mean him? Doesn't he mean I'm just like Four?

Eric's villainous laugh fills the room. "You really don't know? This is great! I'll tell you the whole story, or better yet, I'll let Tobias tell you. Right before I have him kill you."

At that moment, Eric could have knocked me over with just a flick of his finger, no force required. Those are the last words I expect to come out of his mouth. "You really are insane. He would never hurt me."

Eric is already heading out the door of my cell when he turns for a fraction of a second to address me one last time, "He will once he learns who you are." He slams the door closed as soon as he is clear of the small room. The fading jingle of his keys taunt me as he walks down the hollow corridor.

As soon as there is no longer any sound coming from the other side of the door, I run over, dropping to my knees at the base of the metal slab. With my cheek to the floor, I peer through the food slot. The hallway is completely empty and silent, giving me a bit of relief. If Eric didn't leave anyone here to guard my cell, then it means one of two things. Either he is still alone, since his goons haven't joined him yet, or he is grossly incompetent. If he thinks I'm just going to sit here waiting for him to return, he is greatly mistaken.

I've never considered myself overly smart. I'm good at piecing together puzzles and finding answers, but I'm certainly no genius. Four said Eric was smart. I'm wondering now if he meant compared to a rock, because as I scan the ground beyond the door, I can see the discarded, half full syringe lying on the dirt floor. It doesn't take a brain surgeon to know that having access to the serum is my best chance at getting a cure.

I make retrieving the syringe my mission now. There is no way out of this cell. Attempting an escape would be a waste of effort. My best bet is to hope Four finds me and gets me to a hospital where this poison can be analyzed, and hopefully an antidote can be made.

The syringe is definitely out of my reach. My arms are skinny so I'm able to reach through the slot, almost all the way to my shoulder. I extend my fingers out as far as possible to get an idea of the distance still remaining between my hand and the object I'm trying to reach. It lies about twelve inches away from my fingertips. I retract my arm to think for a moment. What could I use to extend my reach enough?

My first idea is my shoe. I pull my canvas sneaker off and jam it through the slot, while forcing my body as far as possible through the narrow opening, but I'm still a good three to four inches short. Damn it! This is the first time in my life I've ever wished I had bigger feet. I pull my arm back and sit up against the door, shaking my arm and wrist to get the feeling back.

The return of circulation to my limb reminds me of the serum pulsing throughout my body. I let my head rest on the door and try to silence the voice in my head. Is this really how I'm going to die? It would be so easy to lose hope, but I can't give up already. Somewhere beyond that door, Four is confronting Eric, and after he's done with that scumbag, he'll come looking for me. I can't allow myself to think any other way right now. Four will succeed and I'm going to be fine. My focus returns to my current task.

Again, I scan my tiny cell. There is nothing here that I could use to help. The room is completely empty, other than a grimy mattress on the ground and a bucket set in the corner. I don't even want to think about its intended purpose. Gross.

My eyes stay locked on that bucket for a moment longer. It's about the size of a child's small sand pail, made of galvanized metal and has a long metal handle. I wonder if I could get the handle off? If I could, it would definitely be long enough to help me retrieve the syringe.

It takes very little time to manipulate the metal enough to detach it from the bucket. I bend one end into a hook and return to my spot by the door. Reaching through, I position the hook just past the syringe before slowly dragging it towards my direction. Though I have to reposition the hook several times to avoid losing my prize, I succeed in pulling it close enough to retrieve with my fingers.

Once the syringe is in my possession, I breathe a sigh of relief. I grab the cap from the spot where Eric spit it onto the floor and slide it over the needle so I can safely tuck it into my back pocket.

I'm one step closer to saving my life. Now, I can only wait. Wait for Four to find me, or for Eric to return.

I sit down on the worn out mattress. My stomach starts to feel queasy and I know the serum is starting to take effect. Hurry Four!