Pit

Chapter 1

TRIS POV

A crow caws nearby. It drags me out of my frightened haze and back into the real world.

On instinct, I reach out blindly, clawing at the sheets in an attempt to find him, his arm, his shirt, something to cling to. My eyes crack open and stare into the early morning light glaring through the open window when I realize that it is hopeless. I am alone.

The nightmares have become quite common again, even though I am in a retreat where I should only find joy among peaceful nature. I don't really remember this one—just the vivid, heavy feeling of culpability and a gun in my palms—but it was enough to leave me waking up to nausea.

A gust of cool air billows into the room, and that combined with the cold sweat that has broken out across my body makes me shiver fiercely. With a grumble, I push myself off the bed and walk across the creaky wood floor to close the window.

When I glance back at the clock on the nightstand, I sigh. It is time to get up for the day. In fact, my morning chores begin sooner than I thought.

As I dress, I think about how easy it could be to let myself fall accustomed to the routine of Amity life: the fresh breakfasts that await me in the morning, the adventures that every day offers, the nice fatigue I feel after a day of harvesting. But then I remember home. I remember the Dauntless compound, the dimly-lit stone hallways, the liveliness of the members accomplishing daredevil stunts, the few lazy mornings where I woke up in a different way, curled up into Tobias's warm side.

People don't forget though. My face is still remembered as a fugitive's by many, so I don't see myself going home soon, or, since it has been three months already, maybe ever.

The city is currently on shutdown, as it was the day I left for Amity. Factionless meddlers and simply anyone passing in between factions without permission has either been arrested or shot on sight, depending on the scenario. The suicides are continuing, but on a much smaller scale since the culprits are deterred by the factional barriers. Because of the instability and the risk of more suicides, the government called for everyone to turn in any weapons they owned to the authorities—needless to say, it backfired on them. I smile wryly, thinking about how the Dauntless were so adamant against it. My faction may have gone downhill in many ways, but at least on this occasion they weren't stupid, like the time the factionless managed to surround them with their own guns in the Erudite raid.

We are at a standstill that could easily end in something far worse; we are teetering on the edge of warfare.

The Amity seem too caught up in their idyllic world to worry about what is happening inside the fence—or maybe they really don't know. Outside my window, people giggle and skip along to the main Amity compound for breakfast. I watch them in envy, longing to be as happy as they seem. Maybe I could be if I really tried to insert myself.

But I loathe this place. In fact, every day I go out I think about how soothing it will be to collapse in my small room in Dez's house and lock myself away from their strangely toxic peace.

A knock on the door startles me out of my daze. I open it without hesitation, knowing that it is just Dez coming to collect me.

"Ready to go?" she says cheerfully.

"Yeah," I mumble, running a hand through my hair to detangle it. If I had more time, I would have brushed it.

We pass her mom and younger sister on the way out the door. I smile at them respectfully in passing. They were more than willing to not only harbor me but provide me with food, clothes, and a soft bed, and I am very grateful to them.

Dez doesn't chatter unnecessarily as we walk to the dining hall. I shudder a bit when a breeze blows by and cross my arms as leaves crunch under my shoes. I probably should have worn a jacket today; fall is approaching quickly.