Burn Bright (Sequel To Bare Hands)

Brewing

Something is brewing.

I can feel it as I walk the cafeteria line with my tray, see it in the many huddled heads of a group of factionless as they lean over their oatmeal.  Whatever is about to happen will happen soon.  

Yesterday, when I left Evelyn's office I lingered in the hallway to eavesdrop on her next meeting .  Before she closed the door, I heard her say something about a demonstration;.   The question that is itching at the back of my mind is: Why didn't she tell me?

She must not trust me.  That means I'm not doing as good a job as her pretend right-hand man as I think I am.  

I sit down with the same breakfast as everyone else does: a bowl of oatmeal with a sprinkle of brown sugar on it, and a mug of coffee. I watch a group of factionless as I spoon it into my mouth without tasting it.  One of them - a girl, maybe fourteen - keeps flicking her eyes toward the clock.

I'm halfway done with breakfast when I hear the shouts.  The nervy factionless girl jolts from her seat as if struck with a live wire, and they all start toward the door.  I am right behind them, elbowing my way past slow-movers through the lobby of Erudite headquarters, where the portrait of Jeanine Matthews still lies in shreds on the floor.

A group of factionless has already gathered outside, in the middle of Michigan Avenue.  A layer of pale clouds covers the sun, making daylight hazy and dull.  I hear someone shout, "Death to the factions!"  and others pick up the phrase, turning it into a chant, until if fills my ears, Death to the factions, death to the factions.  I see their fists in the air, like excitable Dauntless, but without the Dauntless joy.  Their faces twisted with rage.

I push toward the middle of the group, and then I see what they're all gathered around: The huge, man-sized faction bowls from the Choosing Ceremony are turned on their sides, their contents spilling across the road, coals and glass and stone and earth and water all mixing together.

I remember slicing into my palm to add my blood to the coals, my first act of defiance against my father.  I remember the surge of power inside me, and the rush of relief.  Escape.  These bowls were my escape.

Edward stands among them, shards of glass ground to dust beneath his heel, a sledgehammer held above his head.  He brings it down on one of the overturned bowls, forcing a dent into the metal.  Coal dust rises into the air.

I resist the urge to cringe.  I also have to stop myself from running at him.  He can't destroy it, not that bowl, not the Choosing Ceremony, not the symbol of my triumph.  Those things should never be destroyed.

The crowd is swelling, not just the factionless wearing armbands with empty white circles on them, but with people from every former faction, their arms bare. An Erudite man - his faction still indicated by his neatly parted hair - bursts free o the crowd just as Edward is pulling back the sledgehammer for another swing.  he wraps hi soft, ink-smudged hands around the handle, just above Edwards, and the push into each other, teeth gritted.

I see a blond head across the crowd.  Tris.  She's wearing a loose blue shirt without sleeves, showing the edges of faction tattoos on her shoulders.  She tries to run to Edward and the Erudite man, but Christina stops her with both hands.

The Erudite man's face turns purple.  Edward is taller and stronger than he is.  He could possibly beat him if he was in better shape, but that is not case.

Edward rips the sledgehammer handle from the Erudite man's hands and swings again.  But he's; off balance, dizzy with rage, and the sledgehammer hits the Erudite man in the shoulder  at full force, metal cracking bone.

For a moment all I hear is the Erudite man's screams.  It's like everyone is taking a breath.

Then the crowd explodes into a frenzy, everyone running toward the bowls, toward Edward, toward the Erudite man . They collide with one another and then with me, shoulders and elbows and heads hitting me over and over again.  My claustrophobia is starting to kick in and I can't breathe, can't think.