"Dauntless!"
I quickly take my place by the other transfers, glancing from side to side. There are only a few more to go and then the choosing ceremony will be over. The first and most important step will be complete in a matter of moments.
There are no more transfers, but at least 20 of us stand before the Dauntless seated in the auditorium.
I pay little attention the other faction transfers because those standing around me are the ones I really need to worry about.
At end the ceremony the dauntless race out of the nearest exit and begin their decent to the ground floor. It seems there are thousands of people within the stairwell as the whoops and shouts echo off the concrete. Just going down stairs is an extreme sport with the Duantless; they skip multiple steps at a time, some even jumping from one flight to the next in their haste.
I keep myself within the middle of the transfer pack, not standing out at the front, but not appearing weak at the back.
Half way down, the train whistle blasts. This only amplifies the fervor of the moving mass in the stairwell and the speed increases.
Bursting from the emergency exit the Dauntless jog along side it before pulling themselves into an open door. At the rate transfers are moving, we won't even make it into the last car.
Soon enough the rest of the transfers realize, and I pick up my pace with them. Most of the group struggles to lift themselves into the last car, very few are able to do so smoothly. Hanging out the door I watch as the slower transfers fall behind, they aren't going to have a faction if they don't make this.
Quickly I help a couple of them on, none of them look me in the face. They don't like appearing weak and it works in my favor if they don't realize how much strength was needed to pull them in.
As the train speeds up I sit myself in the back corner where I can feel the wind.
A couple of others sit as well, but those that don't find themselves on the floor of the car anyway from the force of the wind.
"You know you just gave yourself more competition."
I look in the direction of the voice to see a shadow in the opposite corner in the rear.
"No, I just gave myself a smoke screen."
The shadow person chuckles at this. From the play in the shadows I can see that they've turned their head, dismissed me. It's for the better if I don't leave that big of an impression.
"Hi, my name's Calla." This from the small Candor girl five feet to my left.
"Hi, Calla."
"What faction are you from?" She ignores the fact that I didn't respond in kind with my name.
"Can you not tell from the clothes?" Calla then looks down at them as if she hadn't really noticed what I am wearing.
"Amity, but you're wearing a blue camisole."
I mentally smack myself, I hadn't hidden it well enough. I knew I shouldn't have worn it, but I couldn't leave it behind.
From the corner of my eye I can see the shadow person glancing back at me. But I pay them no mind, I can't seem self-conscious of the slip.
"It belongs to my mother, when she transferred." I quickly lie. I hope those paying attention believe the cover.
Thankfully, most paying attention just nod their heads in agreement and turn back to their conversations.
I look away from Calla the Candor, signalling the end the conversation with her. Hoping she won't detect the lie. She's the one I need to worry about the most.
Minutes later I can hear the chatter from the car up ahead. I look to see that the Dauntless are hanging from their open doors, ahead for them the train comes to the edge of a cliff that drops off into nowhere.
"They aren't!" I hear coming from he front of my car.
"But they are." Says the shadow person. They move to the open door and I see a Candor. Yet another one to watch out for.
Looking past him I understand then, the Dauntless leap from the open doors where they slid right off the edge and catch it with the tips of their fingers.
"They're crazy!" Shouts a tall beauty from the front.
"No, they're Dauntless. And so are you, if you chose the right faction." At that, the boy jumped from the car sliding sideways, he appears to have fallen to his death if not for the tips of him fingers visible at the edge of the cliff.
Him having gone first I have no issue following, never be the first.