A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter (and to the guest who let me know about a typo - I really appreciate that)! Thank you also to my wonderful beta reader, Rosalie!
By the way, so far, more people have voted for having the knife-throwing scene be in Tobias' POV, so I'll probably do that (unless there's an outpouring for Al's POV between now and when I write it). If I do that, maybe I'll write Al's POV as a stand-alone fic at some point.
"Divergent" Chapter 11 – The Fence
It looks like Eric is skipping the field trip. At least that's what I have to assume, since he still hasn't shown up, and I can now hear the horn of the approaching train.
I glance back, momentarily worried about leaving Tris in the compound with him, but to my relief, I see she's finally made it. Her movements are pained, and her face is badly bruised, but she's here. Once again, I have to give her credit for resiliency.
I turn back to the tracks, standing as close as possible – right on the line where I know I'm safe but where one inch closer would get me hurt. It's a technique I learned from Amar. It intimidates the initiates and makes me look more Dauntless without actually putting me in any danger.
Once it's time to board, I step back, planning to let the initiates climb on before me. That plan vanishes when Will steps up first, flopping inelegantly into the car on his stomach and dragging himself the rest of the way in. I sigh. That's not the example I want the others following, so I jump on myself, my motions smooth, giving them a better model to imitate.
Somehow, I'm not surprised when Tris follows right behind me, trying to be next despite her injuries. I'm about to extend a hand to help her in when Al lumbers up behind her, grabbing her under her arms and lifting her into the car. An odd feeling shoots through me at the sight, but I shake it off, watching as the others board one by one. No one is left behind.
The squabbling begins immediately.
"Feeling okay there?" Peter asks mockingly, "or are you a little…Stiff?" He's obviously talking to Tris, and I tighten my hand around the grab bar I'm next to, trying to hide my anger as he laughs. It's bad enough that he beat her – and enjoyed it – but does he have to be insulting about it too?
"We are all awed by your incredible wit," Will answers him.
"Yeah, are you sure you don't belong with the Erudite, Peter?" Christina asks. "I hear they don't object to sissies."
Part of me is glad that her friends are sticking up for her, but I really don't want more reminders of what happened yesterday. I'm sure Tris doesn't, either.
"Am I going to have to listen to your bickering all the way to the fence?" I ask caustically, letting my eyes roam over all of them. They instantly grow silent. Good.
Turning back to the car's opening, I grab the handle on either side and lean out as far as I can, enjoying the feeling of the wind whipping against me. I don't go for many of the typical Dauntless thrills, but I do enjoy this one.
We move gradually to the edges of the city, the buildings getting progressively more damaged as we go and then slowly petering out, replaced by yellow fields. I considered living out here, after I go factionless. It's far away from the Dauntless leaders, and from my parents. I figured I could find an old building and fix up an apartment in it, maybe even plant crops in one of the open fields….
But I opted for a spot closer to the factions. There's nowhere to plant crops there, but it's far easier to stay hidden, and that will be important once the war starts. I've already picked out an apartment and stocked it with supplies. I just have to get through training and make sure Uriah is safe. And Tris. I won't abandon her, either.
The train's brakes squeal as it begins to slow down. The fence is one of the few places it actually stops, which is useful for the car-full of injured initiates it's carrying. Behind me, I hear the conversations die out, and I glance back to make sure everyone is still awake and ready to get off. Tris' eyes meet mine briefly, before she looks away, a faint blush touching her cheeks. I don't know why.
The train is just pulling under the awning, still moving very slowly, when I jump off. It comes to a full stop as the others disembark, following me silently toward the fence. The chain-link structure is in good shape through this stretch, its barbed wire looking sharp and clear of debris. There are many areas where it's not as well maintained – where decades of grime now cover the barbs to the point they're no longer a danger to anyone.
But I never mention that. I'm more concerned about needing to escape the city someday than about who might invade from outside, so I'm just as glad to see vulnerable spots in the fence.
"Follow me," I tell the group, somewhat unnecessarily, as I lead them toward the enormous gate and the guards on duty on the other side of it. Well, duty may be too strong a word. Despite the guns in their hands, they're milling around casually as they always do. It's a dull job. I decide to emphasize that to the initiates.
"If you don't rank in the top five at the end of initiation, you will probably end up here," I tell them, stopping as I reach the gate. "Once you are a fence guard, there is some potential for advancement, but not much. You may be able to go on patrols beyond Amity's farms, but–"
Will interrupts me. He must be hanging out with the Candor transfers too much. "Patrols for what purpose?" he asks.
I shrug, thinking again about the war plans I discovered. There was no direct mention in them about activities beyond the fence, but it would be a good place to do things secretly. For all I know, they're building up supplies of weapons or serums, or building prisons to house those captured in the war. Or even stealing food and stock-piling it so the Abnegation are blamed for shortages.
But all I say is, "I suppose you'll discover that if you find yourself among them. As I was saying. For the most part, those who guard the fence when they are young continue to guard the fence. If it comforts you, some of them insist that it isn't as bad as it seems."
Christina whispers to Tris in a voice that is too loud to be a whisper. The Candor can never be quiet. "Yeah. At least we won't be driving buses or cleaning up other people's messes like the factionless."
An expression of distaste passes over Peter's face, quickly hidden, before he asks me bluntly, "What rank were you?"
I watch him levelly for a moment, wondering why he's asking. But there's no reason to hide the answer. "I was first."
His eyes widen, and he asks somewhat contemptuously, "And you chose to do this? Why didn't you get a government job?"
For a few seconds, I seriously debate punching him. A single good jab to the nose would teach him to be less cocky and insulting. But even the thought makes me feel like my father, so I just answer the question.
"I didn't want one." My tone is flat, making it clear the topic is closed, and I turn back to the gate as some of the soldiers start to pull it open. I didn't notice earlier, but I can now see that there's a truck waiting to leave the city. Judging by the smiling faces and red and yellow clothes filling it, it's returning to Amity after delivering supplies to another faction. Probably Abnegation. I unloaded many trucks like this one while I was growing up there.
Instinctively, I move a bit away from the truck. I know I don't look anything like I did as a child, but I still don't want someone to recognize me from one of those unloading efforts.
But I'm not the one who's recognized.
"Beatrice?" a boy asks as he stands up in the back of the truck and then hops to the ground. He has curly blond hair and a slim build, and his movements are too…stiff…for Amity. But the dead give-away is that he's wearing a gray tee-shirt. He must have transferred from Abnegation.
My eyes turn to Tris curiously as he moves toward her, wondering what role they were to each other. Neighbors? Friends? Co-volunteers? Her face looks frozen, as if she has no idea how to respond, and I'm still trying to guess when he wraps his arms around her, hugging her in a way Abnegation never allows. The sensation I felt earlier, when Al lifted Tris onto the train, returns – far stronger this time, and I feel my hands forming tight fists. I don't like this. It takes me a second to realize that this is having someone else touch her.
But Tris stands rigidly still, and it quickly becomes obvious that she doesn't return whatever affection this boy might feel for her. Nevertheless, she doesn't pull away, whether out of selflessness or kindness I'm not sure, and I begin to suspect why. The other Amity are smiling at the embrace, and I realize that doing this is helping the boy fit into his new faction.
Unfortunately, it's not helping Tris. Her fellow initiates are staring at her, and I'm about to intervene when he finally pulls away. The two of them begin talking as the Dauntless guards start to examine the truck. It's a pointless task, really – it's not as if there's anything the Amity aren't allowed to take out of the city – but it's part of the job anyway.
I move a bit farther away, not really wanting to hear Tris' conversation with this boy – or be within his sight. He's another person who could conceivably recognize me.
"Sure, come all the way out here and don't even bother saying hi," a voice beside me says, and I almost jump. It's Shauna, of course, and she's right that I should have noticed her earlier. I know perfectly well she's stationed here these days.
"Sorry – got distracted by the truck," I mutter.
She smirks, her eyes following the path mine were trained on a moment ago. "The truck or the people?" she asks. I look away, not wanting to answer, and I find my gaze once again on Tris. Molly is talking to her and the Amity boy now, her face wearing a sneer of obvious disgust.
"If they're bothering you that much," Shauna says with a trace of amusement, "go tell them to stop talking."
"They're not actually breaking any rules," I say, though I know that doesn't explain why their conversation annoys me.
"That's the first jumper, right?" Shauna asks after another moment of silence. "The Stiff?" I just nod, still watching Tris.
"You seem unduly fascinated by her," Shauna adds, and my eyes snap to her in horror. Is it that obvious?
"She worries me," I finally say, my mind wildly seizing at excuses. "Eric seems determined to kill her or make her fail, and she deserves better."
For a few long seconds, Shauna meets my gaze levelly. She suspects. I know she does. But she has the grace not to say anything.
"He made her fight Peter yesterday," I add, pointing out who Peter is. "That's why she's so bruised. And I hate it, because she's as Dauntless as they come, but at this rate, she'll fail stage one."
I kick the ground, watching the pebbles I send flying, before I continue. "Amar would never have let this happen, but Eric seems to think that only large brutes should make it through initiation. And I don't know how to stop him."
Shauna frowns, looking at Tris thoughtfully. "Come up with something," she states flatly. She meets my gaze again. "Like you did with me. Find a way to help her – and to keep Eric from winning."
I look at her, suddenly aware of just how short she is. She's probably only an inch or two taller than Tris, and she was bad at fighting during her own initiation, despite being raised in Dauntless. She certainly understands Tris' position.
"Okay," I answer with a slight smile. I don't know how I'll do this, but she's right that it's my job. I'll just have to figure it out.
When the truck finally drives through the gate, I say bye to Shauna and head toward the others. By now, Molly has moved away from Tris, who is watching as the guards close the gate. She's biting her lip thoughtfully, and I can't help but wonder what's going through her head. Whatever it is, it's probably not helpful for initiation.
My feet make their way to her before I can think better of it. "I am worried that you have a knack for making unwise decisions," I tell her. It sounds a bit lame, but she needs to understand that image matters to the Dauntless. She can't appear attached to her old faction or friends.
She frowns, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly. God, she just never backs down, does she?
"It was a two-minute conversation," she says firmly.
"I don't think a smaller time frame makes it any less unwise," I respond just as firmly. But as she continues to glare at me, my attitude starts to shift a little – or perhaps my attention does. Either way, I'm suddenly aware that we're only a foot apart. The closeness sends a type of buzzing through me.
Before I realize what I'm doing, I'm touching the corner of her bruised eye the way I lightly traced the injury on her mouth in the infirmary. She jerks her head back, and I freeze. I can't let myself do this. But I also can't admit to why I'm doing it.
So, I sigh, tilting my head to evaluate her as I think about what to say. "You know," I finally start, "if you could just learn to attack first, you might do better."
"Attack first?" she asks, sounding confused. "How will that help?" She still doesn't really know the basics of fighting.
"You're fast," I tell her. "If you can get a few good hits in before they know what's going on, you could win." I shrug as I finally let my hand drop.
"I'm surprised you know that," she responds quietly, "since you left halfway through my one and only fight."
The words slice a little, increasing the guilt I already feel about everything Eric is doing to her. She believes I left her at his mercy, the way I left them all the previous day.
"It wasn't something I wanted to watch," I say softly.
I look away, not wanting to see the accusation in her eyes, and I realize the next train has arrived. Good. This conversation is getting very uncomfortable.
I clear my throat. "Looks like the next train is here," I mutter. "Time to go, Tris."
The initiates have the rest of the day off, so when we get back to the compound, I visit Zeke in the control room. It's a good place to think, and even though I don't want to tell Zeke any of the things that are currently bothering me, he's still a good person to talk to.
"So, where was Eric today?" I ask without preamble as I enter the room. There's no doubt Zeke has been keeping an eye on him.
"Hi, Zeke. How are you?" Zeke says in an exaggerated tone, emphasizing my lack of a greeting before he answers his own question in the same tone. "I'm great. Thanks for asking. How are you, Four?"
I can't stop the smile that creeps onto my face. I suppose that's why he's my best friend.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it," I mutter. "Did you have a good day, Zekey?"
He laughs. "Zekey? Really? You know perfectly well my nickname is Ladies' Man."
"Hmm, yes, how could I forget? It's printed on all your shirts."
"The whole point of a nickname like that is not wearing shirts," he responds as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, and I chuckle.
"Okay, but really, where was Eric?"
"Well, I have good news on that front," he answers with a smirk. "He spent all day in a leaders' conference, and apparently it continues through tomorrow. So, you get two days without him."
His smile widens, and I can tell he's delighted to be delivering this information. But I can't help worrying about the purpose of the conference. It probably indicates the war is getting closer, and I still haven't figured out what to do about it. How to warn Abnegation in a way that will make them actually do something…. As if they have the skills or the resources – or even the desire – to protect themselves.
But there's nothing I can do about that right now, so instead I spend the next few hours thinking about how to help Tris. I finally come up with an idea shortly before I go to bed. The details swarm my dreams all night, but despite them, I sleep better than I have since initiation began. I'm kind of looking forward to tomorrow.
A/N: Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. Reviews really make my day, and they help me improve my writing. They're also the best motivation to keep going... Thanks!
By the way, the next chapter will be an original scene that takes place on a day which "Divergent" essentially skips over. It's a scene that I felt was missing and that doesn't contradict anything in the book. Hopefully, you'll like it.
