Page 125 of The Sixth Fraction

“I’m not sure why you’ve been spending so much time here,” Christina says, leaning into the door frame. “It got you into the guild, so you’re obviously already good at it.”

There’s a shooting gallery in the back of the Museum. A small one, the targets painted on the boards that are covering the windows in bright red paint. The floors are dusty wood. At night, there are always some people back here, testing their aim with a needle gun—but Christina’s right. I have enough skill to impress the Foxes, which means I don’t need to worry about it anymore.

But I keep thinking about what Tobias said—that if I’d felt confident with the gun, my fear simulation would have been easier to face. I’m not eager to endure another fear simulation, but the images keep surfacing. The whites of my father’s eyes. The wound in the back of his head. Do it. Do it or I’ll kill you. If you won’t do it, I will.

So here I am. Firing needles at the wall targets, then yanking them out of the wood to reload them. Needles lose their efficacy after they’re first fired, but they can still be recycled for target practice.

“I think it’s because I’m good at it,” I say to Christina, and I fire the next needle. I can feel that this one is right before I even look at where it hit the board. Right in the middle. It feels simple and clear when I do it right. It’s doing it wrong that feels confusing.

I lower the gun and set it down on the table next to me.

“I’ve never just been naturally good at anything before,” I say. “How was your test?”

Despite everything that’s happened with factionless weapons smuggling and dead Divergent boys and Erudite planting loyalists in Dauntless, my Fox education continues. Christina’s has been difficult. People keep noticing her when she tries to pass as one faction member or another—keep remembering her. So far she hasn’t gotten detained, but the Foxes don’t like it when someone is noticeable.

But they haven’t kicked her out. Instead they’ve switched her over to covert training. Not all Foxes have to be good actors—some of them just have to be good at sneaking around. And she seems to be getting good at that. I didn’t hear her come in.

“Not bad,” she says. “I picked an Erudite’s pocket without him realizing it.” She holds up a pair of glasses with wire rims. “Think they’ll suit my face?”

“I think the Mender would trade you for them.”

The Mender has set up shop in one of the old exhibit halls here. It’s a much bigger space, so there’s room for Mae to have a permanent blanket fort.

Christina hangs the glasses from the collar of her shirt. “You ready? We said we’d meet them soon.”

We leave the Museum and walk to the Hub. Christina has a backpack stuffed with food, and I have the water. The Hub isn’t far from us, and Christina said she had a surprise for us, to celebrate Colin passing the entrance test for the Healers Guild. He’ll be training to be a medic.

Rory is already in the lobby when we get there. She’s in mustard-colored Amity coveralls worn open over a black T-shirt, her unevenly chopped hair in disarray. She greets each of us with a hug—a relic of her Amity days that she doesn’t seem eager to shake.

“Colin’s checking on the generator,” she says. “I assume you guys don’t want to climb one hundred and eight stories on foot.”

“Can’t say that I do,” Christina says.

As if on cue, Colin charges up a nearby staircase, a swoop of red hair over his forehead. “Elevators are on!”

Rory pokes the button, and it lights up. “And it didn’t explode at my touch! Impressive.”

“You have so little faith in me,” Colin says.

The elevator doors open, and we all get in. Christina presses the button for the highest floor, and the elevator rushes upward. My ears pop almost immediately.

When we reach the top, we all stare. There’s a hole in the ceiling. Wind rushes into the elevator, tossing my hair over my face. There’s an aluminum ladder propped up against one of the intact walls. I assume that’s what we’ll use to get to the roof—and I assume the roof is where we’re headed.

“Not yet,” Christina says, when she sees me eyeing it. “Too windy up there, and we still need to eat.”

We set up a picnic next to one of the intact windows. Rory shakes out the old blanket, and Christina takes out the food. We all settle in, and then Rory takes a bottle of brown liquor from her bag.

“This,” she says triumphantly, “I stole from the office of a Candor hospital administrator, even though he was right there in the hallway!”

Colin applauds, and I laugh.

“A toast,” Christina says, as she pops the cork of the bottle. “To Colin.”

“Who once pulled a needle right out of my chest,” Rory adds.

“And he was very bossy about it,” I add. “You’ll make a good Healer.”

Christina hands the bottle to him, and he sips, grinning. He passes the bottle to Christina, who takes a sip of her own, and then Rory.