Page 153 of The Sixth Fraction

A familiar face appears over Andrew’s shoulder, peeking out into the hallway.

My father.

“Tobias?” he says.

“Get back in there and close the door,” I snap. “Both of you.”

They don’t do as I say, but I don’t have time to tell them again. I stand on the hinge side of the front door, so that when it opens, it will cover me. I close my eyes and listen to the footsteps in the hallway, not running but still urgent. The Dauntless never learn to be stealthy; there’s no reason for them to.

The knob turns, and the door opens. I catch it in one hand and shove it forward so it hits Peter hard in the shoulder. He stumbles back into the corner of the entryway.

I grab for his wrist and wrench it to the side, trying to get him to release the gun. But his other hand is free; he punches me in the arm and then in the face, catching my mouth with his knuckles. Adrenaline erases the pain of it; I shove my shoulder into his chest as hard as I can. The gun clatters to the ground.

Peter throws me off him, and I stagger back a few steps. He lunges at me, both hands high, like he intends to grab my throat. I slip to the side and grab his arm. All I need to do is get him back into the hallway and lock him out of the apartment without his weapon.

He twists, slipping my grasp, and elbows me—or he tries to, anyway, because I catch his elbow in my palm and shove him, my boots squeaking on the tile. I see an opening, and uppercut him hard in the gut.

It should be more satisfying than it is, punching Peter. But there’s no recognition in his eyes, only pain.

He hunches over, and I use his moment of distraction to push him into the hallway again. Then I bring the door closed between us, and lock it.

I stand there for a moment, breathing hard. I taste copper—that punch must have hit me harder than I thought. I wipe the blood from my mouth and straighten. It’s time to face him.

Andrew Prior and Marcus are staring at me with alarm. I pick up the gun from the tile, check the magazine, and flip on the safety.

“How did you know they were coming?” I ask.

“I was warned,” Andrew says. “And I warned the council leader, in turn.”

I notice he doesn’t call Marcus my father. Probably because he disowned me the day I chose Dauntless.

The doorknob jiggles, presumably as Peter tries it from the other side. I glance back at the dead bolt, wondering how old it is. But I think it will hold long enough for us to get out of here.

I ask, “Who warned you?”

“My wife, first,” Andrew says. “And then my son.”

Caleb steps out of the bedroom where they were all hiding. He’s in layers of blue, still with that look he had in the simulation room, like someone trying to be older and more sophisticated than they are.

I don’t know whether to be surprised that he chose his family over his faction. I don’t know Caleb at all, since Tris hasn’t talked about him. So I just nod.

“We have to get you out of here,” I say. I force myself to look at Marcus. “Both of you. Where’s the fire escape?”

“I’m not going to abandon my faction in their moment of greatest distress,” Marcus says.

“Fine,” I say, abruptly losing my patience. “Stay here and let them hand you over to Evelyn, then. I have it on good authority that she wants you dead.”

My heart is racing, some deep part of me afraid he’s going to smack me across the face for speaking to him that way. His eyes harden like that’s exactly what he wants to do, but he won’t, not in front of Andrew. Not where anyone else can see.

“Evelyn?” Caleb asks. “As in, Evelyn Eaton?”

“He can explain the big Abnegation conspiracy to pretend my mother’s dead some other time,” I snap. “The fire escape. Now.”

“We have to meet Natalie,” Andrew says. “At a church just south of here.”

“Fine. Lead the way.”

The climb down the fire escape makes me hyperventilate. I have no idea how Tris ever climbed it all the way to the roof. It’s old and unstable, swaying a little with each step I take.