"Can you go get the others?" I say. "I think they should see this."
She nods, her eyes wild, and rushes away from the control room.
The people around the unfamiliar building wear no uniform to distinguish them, but they don't wear factionless armbands either, and they carry guns. I try to pick out a face, anything I recognize, but the footage is too blurry. I watch them arrange themselves, motioning to one another to communicate, dark arms waving in the darker night.
I wedge my thumbnail between my teeth, impatient for something, anything to happen. A few minutes later Cara arrives with the others at her back. When they reach the crowd of people around the primary screens, Peter says, "Excuse me!" loud enough to make people turn around. When they see who he is, they part for him.
"What's up?" Peter says to me when he's closer. "What's going on?"
"The Allegiant have formed an army," I say, pointing at the screen on the left. "There are people from every faction in it, even Amity and Erudite. I've been watching a lot lately."
"Erudite?" Caleb says.
"The Allegiant are the enemies of the new enemies, the factionless," Cara replies. "Which gives the Erudite and the Allegiant a common goal: to usurp Evelyn."
"Did you say there were Amity in an army?" Christina asks me.
"They're not really participating in the violence," I say. "But they are participating in the effort."
"The Allegiant raided their first weapons storehouse a few days ago," the young woman sitting at the control room desk nearest to us says over her shoulder. "This is their second. That's where they got those weapons. After the first raid, Evelyn had most of the weapons relocated, but this storehouse didn't make it in time."
My father knows what Evelyn knew: that the power to make people fear you is the only power you need. Weapons will do that for him.
"What's their goal?" Caleb says.
"The Allegiant are motivated by the desire to return to our original purpose in the city," Cara says. "Whether that means sending a group of people outside of it, as instructed by Edith Prior-which we thought was important at the time, though I've since learned that her instructions didn't really matter-or reinstating the factions by force. They're building up to an attack on the factionless stronghold. That's what Johanna and I discussed before I left. We did not discuss allying with your father, Tobias, but I suppose she's capable of making her own decisions."
I almost forgot that Cara was the leader of the Allegiant, before we left. Now I'm not sure she cares whether the factions survive or not, but she still cares about the people. I can tell by the way she watches the screens, eager but afraid.
Even over the chatter of the people around us, I hear the gunfire when it starts, just snaps and claps in the microphones. I tap the glass in front of me a few times, and the camera angle switches to one inside the building the invaders have just forced their way into. On a table within is a pile of small boxes-ammunition-and a few pistols. It's nothing compared to the guns the people here have, in all their abundance, but in the city, I know it's valuable.
Several men and women with factionless armbands guard the table, but they are falling fast, outnumbered by the Allegiant. I recognize a familiar face among them-Zeke, slamming the butt of his gun into a factionless man's jaw. The factionless are overcome within two minutes, falling to bullets I see only when they're already buried in flesh. The Allegiant spread through the room, stepping over bodies like they are just more debris, and gather everything they can. Zeke piles stray guns on the table, a hard look on his face that I've only seen a few times.
He doesn't even know what happened to Uriah.
The woman at the desk taps the screen in a few places. On one of the smaller screens above her is an image-a piece of the surveillance footage we just watched, frozen at a particular moment in time. She taps again, and the image moves closer to its targets, a man with close-cropped hair and a woman with long, dark hair covering one side of her face.
Marcus, of course. And Johanna-carrying a gun.
"Between them, they have managed to rally most of the loyal faction members to their cause. Surprisingly, though, the Allegiant still don't outnumber the factionless." The woman leans back in her chair and shakes her head. "There were far more factionless than we ever anticipated. It's difficult to get an accurate population count on a scattered population, after all."
"Johanna? Leading a rebellion? With a weapon? That makes no sense," Caleb says.
Johanna told me once that if the decisions had been up to her, she would have supported action against Erudite instead of the passivity the rest of her faction advocated. But she was at the mercy of her faction and their fear. Now, with the factions disbanded, it seems she has become something other than the mouthpiece of Amity or even the leader of the Allegiant. She has become a soldier.
"Makes more sense than you'd think," I say, and Cara nods along with my words.
I watch them empty the room of weapons and ammunition and move on, fast, scattering like seeds on the wind. I feel heavier, like I am bearing a new burden. I wonder if the people around me-Cara, Christina, Peter, even Caleb-feel the same way. The city, our city, is even closer to total destruction than it was before.
We can pretend that we don't belong there anymore, while we're living in relative safety in this place, but we do. We always will.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX
TRIS
IT'S DARK AND snowing when we drive up to the entrance of the compound. The flakes blow across the road, as light as powdered sugar. It's just an early autumn snow; it will be gone in the morning. I take off my bulletproof vest as soon as I get out, and offer it to Amar along with my gun. I'm uncomfortable holding it now, and I used to think that my discomfort would go away with time, but now I'm not so sure. Maybe it never will, and maybe that's all right.
Warm air surrounds me as I pass through the doors. The compound looks cleaner than ever before, now that I've seen the fringe. The comparison is unsettling. How can I walk these squeaky floors and wear these starchy clothes when I know that those people are out there, wrapping their houses in tarp to stay warm?
But by the time I reach the hotel dormitory, the unsettled feeling is gone.
I scan the room for Christina, or for Tobias, but neither of them is there. Only Peter and Caleb are, Peter with a large book on his lap, scribbling notes on a nearby notepad, and Caleb reading our mother's journal on the screen, his eyes glassy. I try to ignore that.
"Have either of you seen . . ." But who do I want to talk to, Christina or Tobias?
"Four?" Caleb says, deciding for me. "I saw him in the genealogy room earlier."
"The . . . what room?"
"They have our ancestors' names on display in a room. Can I get a piece of paper?" he asks Peter.
Peter tears a sheet from the back of his notepad and hands it to Caleb, who scribbles something on it-directions. Caleb says, "I found our parents' names there earlier. On the right side of the room, second panel from the door."
He hands me the directions without looking at me. I look at his neat, even letters. Before I punched him, Caleb would have insisted on walking me himself, desperate for time to explain himself to me. But recently he has kept his distance, either because he's afraid of me or because he has finally given up.
Neither option makes me feel good.
"Thank you," I say. "Um . . . how's your nose?"
"It's fine," he says. "I think the bruise really brings out my eyes, don't you?"
He smiles a little, and so do I. But it's clear that neither of us knows what to do from here, because we've both run out of words.
"Wait, you were gone today, right?" he says after a second. "Something's happening in the city. The Allegiant rose up against Evelyn, attacked one of her weapons storehouses."
I stare at him. I haven't wondered about what was happening in the city for a few days now; I've been too wrapped up in what's happening here.
"The Allegiant?" I say. "The people currently led by Johanna Reyes . . . attacked a storehouse?"
Before we left, I was sure the city was about to explode into another conflict. I guess now it has. But I feel detached from it-almost everyone I care about is here.
"Led by Johanna Reyes and Marcus Eaton," Caleb says. "But Johanna was there, holding a gun. It was ludicrous. The Bureau people seemed really disturbed by it."
"Wow." I shake my head. "I guess it was just a matter of time."
We lapse into silence again, then walk away from each other at the same time, Caleb returning to his cot and me walking down the hallway, following Caleb's directions.
I see the genealogy room from a distance. The bronze walls seem to glow with warm light. Standing in the doorway, I feel like I am inside a sunset, the radiance surrounding me. Tobias's finger runs along the lines of his family tree-I assume-but idly, like he's not really paying attention to it.
I feel like I can see that obsessive streak Amar was referring to. I know that Tobias has been watching his parents on the screens, and now he is staring at their names, though there's nothing in this room he didn't already know. I was right to say that he was desperate, desperate for a connection to Evelyn, desperate not to be damaged, but I never thought about how those things were connected. I don't know how it would feel, to hate your own history and to crave love from the people who gave that history to you at the same time. How have I never seen the schism inside his heart? How have I never realized before that for all the strong, kind parts of him, there are also hurting, broken parts?