The Way Back

Prologue

TRIS POV

The city is deteriorating.

I stare in horror as enormous buildings crumble to the ground after being detonated. Explosions boom in my ears, and screams follow. The gunfire is repetitive and sounds like popping from here, since I put a lot of distance between me and the chaos of war. Flames flicker far down the main road, which leads from the heart of the metropolis to the fence.

Where I am.

I am not alone. There is a woman with me, and she looks like she is over twice my age and wears bulky, gray clothing. The man accompanying us is young but strong, with a handsome face that is tense with worry. A rifle is slung across his back, attached to a strap that crosses his chest. I look down to see him tightening a harness around my waist and the backs of my thighs.

"Tobias," I say without meaning to. "I think you have checked it enough."

He glances up at me, and in that split second I am able to see the dread in his eyes. Tugging on a strap one last time, he stands, dominating me with his great height.

"Just wanted to make sure it's secure," he replies.

We both turn our heads to observe the destruction taking place back in the city.

"I don't want to do this," I admit.

The man—Tobias—tucks me into his side with a muscled arm around my waist. It comforts me but also causes me to be apprehensive. And when I notice that he is not wearing a harness or a backpack like the woman and I, I draw the conclusion: we are being separated.

"I know," he says. "But you have to." He gestures to the war zone. "Chicago is a disaster. You can't stay here."

Shuddering, I bury my face into his chest, which smells of sweat. I should be repulsed by it, but the last thing I want to do is let go of him. Besides, there are fouler scents surrounding us.

His hand presses against my stomach as he guides me into an embrace with his other one. It perplexes me because I don't understand why he would hug me this way, since it seems uncomfortable for him with his arm trapped between us—it is peculiar. "This isn't just about you, remember? You're not just keeping yourself safe by leaving."

I glance over at the woman, whose gaze is focused on the city to give us a limited amount of privacy. He must be referring to her. Something about her seems familiar, but I can't put my finger on it. My head turns back so that I can look up at Tobias before I can determine where I know her from.

"I'm not scared of leaving," I correct him, backing up and blinking away tears. "I don't want to do it without you."

Something tells me that I don't stand a chance leaving the city, especially without him. I don't know this man, and somehow it is instinctual to cling to him, to stay by his side. I need him.

"You have to." He reaches out to wipe my tears away. His hands are dirtied by the gunpowder in the creases of his skin. "I'm the only Dauntless leader left; they need me. You know that." I do, and I understand.

My teeth dig into my lip before I rephrase, "I can't do this without you."

"Of course you can." Even through my veil of tears, I can see his slight, proud smile. The expression looks unnatural on him, like he doesn't grin much, but still handsome. "You're Tris Eaton. You're a fighter. If anyone can survive whatever is out there, it is you."

With a sniffle, I look down to see a silver, diamond ring hooked onto a chain around my neck. It must be my wedding ring, and from that and our conversation I can deduce that Tobias is my husband.

A pair of hands frame my face so that I am forced to look back up at him. He lowers his lips to mine, and I stand on my tiptoes to return it. My eyes close as I try to drag out this kiss because it could be our last. His lips are surprisingly soft and make it infinitely difficult to pull away.

After our moment, we stand there, breathing each other's air as a moment of silence ensues. I feel my hands shaking as they clutch at his jacket collar, unwilling to let go.

But I am forced to when another bomb goes off; it sounds closer this time. This city is cumulatively unsafe, and I understand that I have to leave before I am killed.

My head flips around when I hear distinct gunfire approaching. Tobias makes me turn back to him immediately.

"Be brave, Tris," he murmurs, his stern, dark eyes boring into mine. "I promise that this is not the last time we will see each other."

"I love you." My voice sounds strangled and urgent because I know that we only have mere seconds left. I know that this may be the last time I see him.

He briefly glances over my head to make sure we are still clear before saying, "I love you too," and pressing a kiss to my forehead.

It is practically torture to run away from him and to the thick wall that towers over us, but adrenaline fuels me. I yank a strange-looking gun off of my waist and fire it up at the fence, right above the cement part that holds it in place. After tugging on the rope to make sure it is secure, I begin my ascent. The woman follows close behind.

But I don't register that I am hundreds of feet above the ground, or that I am leaving the only city I have ever known. I am deaf and numb and looking at scenery that I don't actually see. I move robotically, my legs carrying me up the steep wall as I run for my life.

In reality, I am running from my life. The man I love is trapped in a battlefield, and I am abandoning him to save myself.

It is not a struggle to run, only to put distance between us. But I do because I love him, and I want to obey him.

So I repeat his words to spur me on, because they are the only thing that is stopping me from turning around.

"Be brave, Tris."

xXxXx

I only have one dream. It is reccurring and identical every time. I experience the burning city and the man each time I manage to sleep. Everything that repeats is vivid and clear, and nothing changes, including the feelings and thoughts I have.

The dream has now taken shape, and I realize what it is, what my mind is trying to tell me.

I only have one memory.

Two days ago, I woke up in a ghost town, alone. Nothing about it is commonplace or strikes me as familiar. However, it is destroyed by warfare like the other city—Chicago—is in my memory.

And it raises the question: is the whole world like this? How many decimated cities am I going to encounter?

It is difficult to answer anything, really, when there is nothing to recall in the first place. My head aches anytime I try to remember, which puts me off track. But I spend a lot of time thinking, about how the world could have gotten this way, if there is anyone left, about any details in my dream that I can put into context, but most prominently about Tobias.

And even though it is a slow, agonizing process, and it is frustrating to barely have any memory, I focus on two facts that I can count on:

My name is Tris Eaton, and I am a long way from home.