Caria
I make my way down the hall with leisure. In my left hand I hold a metal bat and with my right hand I toss a bright red apple into the air. I take a large bite of the apple as I round a corner, resulting in a satisfying crunch and juice dribbling down my chin. Twirling the bat, I come to the end of my walk.
The transfer initiates are all asleep. I finish chewing my bite of apple before taking two long strides into the room. I place the apple to my lips and bite down hard to keep the fruit in my mouth. Breathing through my nose I take a batter's stance and hold the bat up straight in front of me.
Without an ounce of hesitation I swing the bat into the metal frame of the bed in front of me.
The reaction is immediate. Initiates shoot up in shock, one or two even falling from their beds at the noise. I watch them, leaning on the bat like it's a cane and taking another bite from my apple.
"What the fu-"
I interrupt the boy's exclamation by hitting the bed with my bat again. Anger burns in his dark eyes and his nostrils flare.
"Be in the training room by eight," I say. I sweep my eyes over the small group, give a small nod, and then turn on my heel and leave.
I rest the bat on my shoulder and eat my apple as I walk toward the training room.
Amar is already there wiping down punching bags. He grins at me as I walk in, eyes sparkling when he sees the bat. I struggle to smile at him, my mouth full of apple.
"Rude awakening this morning?" he asks.
I snort. "One kid almost cussed me out."
Amar's eyes widen before his face dissolves into a smirk. "How'd you handle that?"
"Swung my bat again," I tell him nonchalantly. "We'll see how he acts during training today."
When I've eaten my apple down to its core I toss it and then begin to stretch my body. Amar is still cleaning equipment and there's still some time left until initiates start showing up so I start a slow jog around the room. I finish two laps by the time Amar gets done and the first initiate shows up.
I'm not surprised to see the first one to arrive is the Stiff. He looks around the room slowly, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. I suppose Abnegation modesty isn't about to change overnight.
Halfway through my third lap the other five initiates join the group, milling around and glancing expectantly at Amar, who says nothing. Rather than finishing the lap I deviate my path and end beside Amar. A sheen of sweat is bright on my skin and my breathing is labored. He gives me a nod and then turns to the initiates.
"Yesterday you faced your fear landscapes," he begins. "You won't be facing them again for a few weeks - granted you last that long. This first stage of training will cover learning how to fight, including hand-to-hand combat, knife throwing, and how to shoot a gun."
The initiates shift and grumble while Amar looks them over.
"Are there any questions?" he asks them.
"What's she doing here?" a dark-haired boy asks immediately. His eyes are on me, and I recognize him as the same boy who yelled at me for waking him up.
"This is Caria. She'll be assisting me with your training," Amar explains.
"Why?"
I snort and smirk. Amar's expression mirrors mine; we exchange a look and he takes a step back.
"You got a problem with me being here, initiate?" I ask.
His nostrils flare again and his eyes narrow. "I just don't see how you'll be able to teach me anything."
The other initiates look quickly between the two of us, shifting uncomfortably. The Stiff in particular looks annoyed and he heaves a sigh.
"You don't think I can teach you anything," I say slowly. I stand to face him fully, feet level with my shoulders, hands on my hip, and head cocked to the side in mock thought. "Why is that?"
"You're a woman," he spits immediately.
Ah. He's a misogynist. Now I understand.
I allow a slow nod and cradle my chin in my hand while I look deliberately around the training room. My eyes land on the raised mat in the middle of the room. I glance at Amar, who smiles and shrugs.
"What's your name, initiate?" I ask.
"Eric."
"Eric," I say slowly. I clap my hands together and look around at the initiates with a smile. "Time for your first lesson, everyone. Eric, on the mat."
Eric looks toward Amar, who nods sharply.
I bend down and untie my boots, kicking them off and leaving them to lay, and I strip off my jacket to reveal the razor back tank top beneath it. The initiates whisper as I hoist myself up onto the mat.
Eric joins me, but before he can climb up I snap my fingers and point downward toward the floor. "Lose the shoes, initiate."
He sneers but obliges when Amar gives an approving nod.
He stands across from me on the mat and gets into a rather cramped looking fighting stance.
"First bit of advice is to never underestimate your opponent," I call loudly to the group.
I plant my legs just wider than my shoulders and bend my knees. I hold my arms up and clench my fists in front of my face. Eric charges at me.
I duck beneath the hook he throws my way and as I step behind him I drag my back foot into his ankle, causing him to trip forward. With him off balance I turn so that my back foot becomes my front foot and land a swift jab right between his shoulder blades. He stumbles and I back off so he can get his wits about him.
He comes at me again and this time I catch his punch instead of dodging. In one fluid motion I grip his wrist in both hands and curl in so that my back is to his chest. Shoulder in his armpit, my back leg between his, I lower my center of gravity and put weight on my front leg and throw him over my shoulder and onto his back. He lands with a heavy thud and I back off again.
Eric rolls over onto his stomach and pushes himself back onto his feet as quickly as he can. His eyes are blazing and his breathing is heavy.
"Next piece of advice: if you can help it, don't fight angry."
A snarl rips from Eric's throat and he runs at me again. He goes for a kick to my ribs, which I take in exchange for wrapping an arm around his leg. He tries to move backward and free himself and I use his momentum against him by moving with him and pushing his leg toward him. He stumbles and falls onto his back again.
This time I don't back off.
"If you have an opportunity, take it."
I straddle Eric's chest, planting my knees in his shoulders to keep his upper body down. He thrashes his legs but before he can do much else I land a hard punch to his nose. His head rebounds off the mat and for a moment he's too dazed to move. I punch again.
A bubble of blood forms at his nostril and he gurgles. The panic shows in his eyes and I retreat so he can roll onto his stomach. Blood drips from his nose and lips and he gasps deeply. He glares at me from his place on the floor.
Once I see that he can breathe again I approach quickly and kick him in the ribs. He grunts and tries to push himself back into a standing position but I kick again, putting him back down
"If you find yourself getting kicked while you're down do your best to protect your internal organs."
The third kick is my last. I step back to give Eric room to groan in pain. His arms tremble as he pushes himself up. He stands slowly, wiping his nose on the back of his hand and smearing blood across his face.
The rage is dissolving into uncertainty.
"When you fight each other you'll have the option to concede defeat when you've had too much," I tell the group. Then, speaking directly to Eric, I ask, "Would you like to take advantage of that option?"
The uncertainty disappears at once and he growls as he charges me again. I block his punch with my forearm, kneeing him in the stomach in retaliation. He doubles over and I follow through by bringing my elbow down on the back of his neck. Eric hits the ground and his head bounces off the mat.
"The elbow is your most powerful weapon," I call. "Most of the time in hand-to-hand combat you'll be using various punches and kicks, but if you have the chance to use your knees or your elbows do it."
I glance at Eric on the floor and realize he hasn't moved. Cursing under my breath I lean over him, placing two fingers to his neck. His pulse is fine and I move my hand to gauge his breathing. Standing straight, I rub the back of my neck and sigh.
"Does anyone else have a problem with Caria assisting me?" Amar asks.
The initiates shake their heads quickly and stare at Eric with wide eyes.
"Good."
"Did you show them where the infirmary is?" I ask Amar while looking at the backs of my hands.
"No, I didn't."
"Care to take a field trip?"
Amar looks from me to Eric and then to the initiates. "Sure."
We haul Eric's unconscious body up off the floor and carry him toward the infirmary. The initiates follow us. When we enter into the infirmary the attendant looks up in surprise.
His eyes flit from Eric to me and then he sighs.
"Car, what the hell did you do this time?"
I grin.
"This is a transfer initiate," I explain as we're directed to a bed. "I'm not sure if his nose is still bleeding or not but I probably wouldn't recommend putting him on his back at first. Not unless you give him cannula."
"Honestly, Car..."
With Eric in the bed being tended to Amar and I step back.
"Initiates, this is Thompson," I introduce. "Unless you wind up in here a lot you probably won't see much of him."
Thompson frowns and says clearly, "Stay on Car's good side and you'll probably see even less of me."
I laugh and settle down on an empty bed. "Thompson's just kidding."
"I'm not."
"I'm gonna get my knuckles cleaned," I tell Amar. "I'll meet you back in the training room in a bit."
Amar nods and leaves with the initiates back to the training room. Once they're gone Thompson turns to me and raises a single eyebrow.
"You gonna tell me what happened?"
I shrug my shoulders and look down at my bloody knuckles. "He said I didn't have anything to teach him because I'm a woman."
"You never could handle a sexist," Thompson whispers.
"Nope." I pop the p in the word and smile at him.
He snorts and shakes his head but I can tell by his shoulders that he's laughing.
"When he wakes up he's gonna be pissed."
"I know."
"There anything you want me to say to him when he comes to?"
I nod. "Tell him he can't come back until you give him a clean bill of health."
Thompson snorts and leaves Eric's bedside, his examination finished. He throws his latex gloves into the trash and snaps on a new pair while gathering cotton balls, hydrogen peroxide, and bandages. He sets these supplies on a small tray table beside me and then wets a washcloth in the sink. When he comes back he takes my hands and gently cleans the blood away. Then he soaks a cotton ball in hydrogen peroxide and dabs at the split skin.
"This takes me back," I whisper when he finishes with the cotton balls. He hums while he bandages my knuckles. Once he's done he goes about cleaning up his supplies.
"No kiss to make it feel better?" I ask with a cheeky grin.
Thompson gives me an unamused look and states, "That's a placebo."
I laugh and stand from the bed. As I leave I hear Thompson call from behind me, "Don't get in anymore fights today!"
"No promises!" I call over my shoulder.
Smile on my face, I head back to the training room.
A/N: I do not own Divergent.
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