Once we've all disembarked and the train has trundled away, we stand for a few seconds, unsure of what to do next. While in the carriage I may have been seen as the team leader, it is now my role to allow everyone else step up to the challenge and figure out what to do next. Team work, getting along with people, making plans… skills that are vital but are more and more often overlooked in Dauntless these days. By putting together the team that I did, I was doing them a favor.
Marlene comes over to me and touches my shoulder. I tense but do my best not to shy away; physical touch will probably never be something I am fully comfortable with.
"When your team won, where did you put the flag?" she says, her voice whiny.
"Telling you wouldn't really be in the spirit of the exercise, Marlene," I say.
"Come on, Four," she bats her eyelids and smiles at me. I feel no guilt when I shrug her hand off my arm. Foolish girl.
"Navy Pier," Uriah calls out."My brother was on the winning team. They kept the glad at the carousel."
I glare at him, but decide that there is little I can do from here but to go along with what everyone suggests.
"Let's go there, then," Will suggests. We all head in that direction; towards the lake, and over the bridge. By the time we reach the Ferris wheel, everyone is fully awake, eyes bright and ready for action.
I stop when I reach the carousel and turn to face the team.
"In ten minutes, the other team will pick their location. I suggest you take this time to formulate a strategy. We may not be Erudite, but mental preparedness is one aspect of your Dauntless training. Arguably, it is the most important aspect."
Take that, Eric, I think.
I decide that this is all the information – and help – that I will give the team. They're smart. They should figure something out. My thoughts are confirmed when Will comes up and takes the flag from me.
"Some people should stay here and guard, and some people should go out and scout the other team's location," he says.
"Yeah? You think?" Marlene snatches it from him. "Who put you in charge, transfer?"
"No one," says Will, surprisingly calmly. "But someone's got to do it." I decide to keep an eye on Will. He has potential.
"Maybe we should develop a more defensive strategy. Wait for them to come to us, then take them out," says Christina.
"That's the sissy way out," Uriah says. "I vote we go all out. Hide the flag well enough that they can't find it."
At his suggestion, everyone decides to give their two cents' worth and pandemonium is close. I try to appear disinterested, and crouch at the edge of the carousel. I stare at the sky; the night is cloudy, which should give us some coverage. It's good to be outside for once, though.
From the corner of my eye I see Tris staring at me.
She's not joining in on the banter. But she's smart. I wonder what she would say, if given the chance.
I close my eyes for a second, and when I open them again, Tris is gone.
I look back at the group to make sure that she hasn't joined their argument, but she really has disappeared. Then I look over my shoulder, and see her slight frame silhouetted in the moonlight, making its way to the Ferris wheel. Of course. She's the dangerous one.
I get up from where I'm seated and, after a quick glance to make sure the team isn't going anywhere soon, I quietly follow her. By the time I've caught up, she's inspected the rungs of a rusty ladder running up the centre of the wheel. I sincerely hope she isn't planning on doing what I think she is doing, but I have a strong feeling that she is. And I will have to follow her.
The thought comes out of nowhere, and I correct myself. No, I do not have to follow her. I am her instructor, yes. But if she does something foolish and falls and breaks something, or worse, it is not my responsibility. This is Dauntless, after all.
But I do have to follow her. She's Tris. She's tiny and innocent and fearless and strong. And she's brave. If anything were to happen to her…
No. I do not have to follow her.
But I do. And I will.
Seriously, Four, I think to myself. Get a grip. You know you can't climb this thing.
But I have to.
I stand there in silence, behind her, the internal struggle raging, and I wonder which side of me will win; the cold and calculating Dauntless instructor, or the Abnegation transfer with a heart.
My mind is made up the minute she puts her hand on one of the rusty rungs. She steps up and puts her body weight on the lowest one, testing it for its strength. I see her shudder slightly, and I remember that she is still recovering from her first fight.
"Tris," I say quietly, before I can stop myself. She turns to look at me, unsurprised at my presence. Did she hear me? Did she know I would follow?
"Yes?" she says, almost defiantly.
"I came to find out what you think you're doing."
"I'm seeking higher ground. I don't think I'm doing anything."
I can't help but smile at her determination.
"All right," I say, "I'm coming."
She stops for a second and looks at me, surprised. It seems like she was expecting discouragement, or for me to laugh at her.
"I'll be fine," she says, cautiously.
Of course she will; she jumped first. She has fire in her, this one. "Undoubtedly," I say.
She doesn't say anything, but turns and starts to climb. I test the bottom rail, gingerly, then more firmly; I weigh a lot more than her. But it seems to hold. So I start climbing after her, and soon my hands are finding the rungs that her feet leave.
As soon as I am three feet above the ground, my heart starts hammering and my hands start to shake. Stop it, Four, I tell myself sternly. If she can do it, you can. But I still need to distract myself.
"So tell me," I say, just loud enough for her to hear. "What do you think the purpose of this exercise is? The game, I mean, not the climbing."
We are getting higher. I force myself not to look down. The wind starts to pick up.
"Learning about strategy," she says, "Teamwork, maybe."
"Teamwork," I say, with a strangled laugh. I'm finding it harder to distract myself.
"Maybe not," she says, hearing my response. "Teamwork doesn't seem to be a Dauntless priority."
She's switched on, I must say.
She slows her climb, clinging to the support so that she doesn't fall. I forget that the wind must be affecting her more than me.
"It's supposed to be a priority," I say. "It used to be."
She doesn't reply, so I look up, and I notice that her legs are shaking as she climbs. She must be scared of heights too. I take comfort in this; she seemed invincible before, and now she appears to be more human.
"Now tell me," I say, trying to keep my voice calm but struggling as my chest tightens, and it becomes harder for me to breathe – never have I been so high voluntarily, apart from in my landscape – "what do you think learning strategy has to do with… bravery?"
We climb in silence for a few seconds as she thinks it over. My hands start shaking violently; they ache from the vice with which I grip each rung. I start to feel dizzy.
"It… it prepares you to act," she says, her voice surprisingly calm. "You learn strategy so you can use it."
She stops, and turns to look down at me. "Are you all right, Four?"
She looks genuinely concerned. She is nearly halfway up a Ferris wheel, is looking straight down to the ground, and her concern is for me. Her instructor.
I realize that I am breathing loudly, and I haven't answered her question.
"Are you human, Tris? Because being up this high…" I stop for a few breaths. "It doesn't scare you at all?"
She looks past me, towards the ground. I don't know how she does it.
A gust of air suddenly forces itself upon us. I brace myself and stay in my position, but she isn't strong enough, and her body is thrust to the right. She lets out a gasp.
Before I realize what I'm doing, I reach up my hand and grab her hip, pushing her gently back into place. Her shirt has ridden up, and I feel warm skin. I let go reluctantly.
She doesn't look down, but I see that she is steadying her breathing.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Yes," she says, her voice careful and controlled. I don't know if I have done the right thing.
She starts climbing again.