The Way Back

Chapter 17

TOBIAS POV

Drip.

Drip.

There is chaos around me. Blood and death and shrieks and wails and every other detail that causes a shiver to run down one's spine. Blocking it out has been made nearly impossible, especially with my own paranoia setting in, but now I realize that focusing on something simple relieves me.

My IV has caught my attention. The monotonous, perfectly timed dripping has calmed me to the point where sometimes I forget that I am on the verge of dying.

Drip.

Drip.

The drops land in the bottom of the bag of liquid, which then sends it into my bloodstream. I pretend that I feel the effects of the medicine, and I inhale a deep breath of the oxygen from the tubes underneath my nose.

I wish I could die now. There is no need to prolong the inevitable. I'm more nervous about the virus's control over me than I am about death itself at this point. I don't want to turn into one of those hysterical, thrashing patients that are the reason I am strapped down to this bed right now.

Nobody has come to visit me. Nobody is allowed to, especially now that I have proved that Divergents are not safe from this disease. I like to think that some people would visit me if they could.

The doctors mentioned that I did not receive EM from Lynn. Although it takes effect much faster than the average disease, it doesn't set in that quickly, so I must have picked it up when I was in the hospital wing after being tortured in Indiana. My pinkie throbs under the bandage at the thought.

The bleeding part hasn't begun yet for me. I imagine that when it does, then I will really want things to end, and it won't matter if I am still afraid of death.

I guess a question to ask myself at this point would be this: if I had the choice to fight this virus, to walk out of the experience alive, would I? Would it be worth it to me?

And I think the answer is yes. At first I want to say, "For what?" What do I have to live for now?

However, I do have something to live for, and that is Tris. The chances are slim, but Tris may return home. If she does, I would want to be there; I would fight until my last breath to stay for her and maybe even after that if possible.

I don't have much of a choice to be there anymore though.

The thought of Tris coming back to hear about my demise shatters me. It makes me dig my fingers into the cot underneath me and growl because I have to get out of this damned quarantine. I can't let her suffer through the pain that I have suffered through, although it would be better to know for certain if someone was dead or alive. I wasn't fortunate enough to have that luxury for a whole year.

If Tris is still alive though—and I believe she is—then I want to survive. I will give anything to have the strength to recover.

Praying is something that I haven't done for a very long time. Growing up in Abnegation, I was raised on the belief in God, but I tossed it aside when it began to occur to me that He would not help me. He would do nothing to stop my father's cruelty no matter how hard and how much I prayed.