How Allegiant Should Have Ended

Chapter 2

Tris:

David slumps over in his chair as his eyes roll back into his head. My doing. I sigh and regain my balance. I don't like the idea of killing anyone, but I didn't really have a choice. No, I did have a choice. He lost his memory so I could've just walked right by him and have forgotten everything. We could have moved on and made better lives for ourselves. But no, I had to be the selfish teenager that I am and end his life. How is it that I was willing to die for Caleb, but not for David. They both betrayed me.

But then I remember; because Caleb is my family and he'll always be there for me. Even when everything else seems wrong, I can always count on my brother to be there for me when I need him. Through thick and thin, we'll always be together.

Trying my best to avoid glancing at David and bumping into his wheelchair, I make my way to the doorway, in an escape to get out this room as fast as possible. As I stand behind David, I scan the room to see the remains of our fight. There is a puddle of blood on the floor from when David shot me. It's pure red and spreading out wildly. Someone else can clean that up, right? But there is also a puddle in David's lap, dripping rapidly onto the floor. I doubly anyone would be willing enough to clean that up.

Quickly, I realize that if anyone were to find me in here, I would be dead in an instant for killing their leader. But this time, it would be for real. I turn back around and run as fast as I can, which is more like walking, down the hallway. I try my best to navigate through the twisted hallways, still unsure of where I'm going. I cautiously step over fallen guards, avoiding looking at them in fear I might recognize some of them. Through all the mayhem, my eyes finally land on Caleb.

He is standing where I left him, but now he has a gun. I have never seen my brother holding a gun before, let alone firing it. A guard falls approximately eight feet from him, mad I watch as the light leaves his eyes.

"Caleb," I call out. My voice is too hoarse, I doubt he could hear me, but he does. I start coughing and gagging, but he runs to me anyways.

"Beatrice, are you okay?" he asks when he close enough that he knows I can hear him. His eyes skirt to my arms, clutching my stomach and the blood dripping down my shirt. "Oh gosh, what happened? Were you shot?"

I try to tell him that I'm okay, but the words can't leave my mouth, and honestly, I'm not okay. I try to nod, but I fall limp. He catches me, and I let him support the majority of my weight.

"Who did this to you?" he asks.

"D-d-David," I wheeze. And then I let the darkness take me.