Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent or its characters.
Chapter 12
"David," he stands on the other side of the room of his office looking out the window.
"How are you?" He asks me.
"I'm doing well thank you, and yourself?"
"I'm doing well but I have some good news for you."
"What can I help you with?" I asked, walking toward him. Whenever he has news for me it's more like a favor since I'm too young to work.
"Natalie. Natalie Prior. She's a dear friend of mine."
"Natalie Prior, from Chicago right?" I'm the one that has been communicating between the Chicago experiment and the Bureau. Of course, I do it all under Matthew's name since I'm too young and he's old enough.
"Yes."
He seems to hesitate. "Sir?"
"Her daughter, Beatrice. She passed."
"I'm sorry, I know you were close to Natalie."
"Thank you. But her passing was a good thing for us."
"What do you mean?" Her passing was a good thing? Why? How?
"There are more and more problems that are happening there."
"I am aware of their situation."
"Of course you are. What's your idea."
"Depending on whether or not they are alright they are with it, have someone pretend to be her. She would have been what ten? So someone that is ten, blond and short. From what I remember."
"Good plan."
"I can start looking for someone."
"I already found someone."
"That is amazing, if you would like I could give them a quick briefing and tips."
"That won't be necessary."
"Sir?"
"You will be going."
"With all do respect sir, I do not believe that I am the best for the Job."
"Why not?"
"I know that is it an honor to be sent to the experiments but have my family here."
"What could I do to make you take the position?"
I don't hesitate. "Life imprisonment no question asked for someone of my choosing."
"Deal," no hesitation. "Who?"
"My father."
When I wake up from a short dreamless night, I head to the training room.
"Tris!" Will yelles. Running after me. I slow down for him to catch up.
"Will?"
"Are you all right?"
"Yeah, why?"
"You have been white as Candor since we won yesterday."
"Oh, probably just tired." Part of the truth, very, very, small part of the truth.
"You sure?"
"Yeah don't worry about me."
We enter the training room. Eric stands in the middle of the room. His posture is so rigid that it looks like someone replaced his spine with a metal pole.
"Tomorrow will be your last day of stage one. You will resume fighting then. Today, you'll be learning how to aim. Everyone picks up three knives. And pay attention while Four demonstrates the correct technique for throwing them," Eric tells us.
No one moes so I move up to the table and grab mine wheil Eric stairs deep inside my soul. Or so it feels like.
Eric looks so pissed off today that it seems that him losing to Four in capture the flag had a big impact on his pride.
Dam competitive boys.
We all watch Four. However, it seems like my mind is elsewhere.
I hear a knock on the door. Who would be going to someone's house at this hour?
I rush to get the door ready for the worst when I hear a nervous foot tapping.
I open it, and there stands a boy. A man.
"Natalie?" askes the man. He's Dauntless, the all black clothing and tattoos confirm.
I don't know the man but if he is asking for Natalie that it's something important.
"My name is Amar and," I don't let him finish his sentence when I pull him inside, close the door and quietly push him against the wall and pin him there.
"Shh," I tell him. He gives me a questioning look and I nod towards the stairs.
He nods. "So…"
"What are you doing here at this hour?"
"I got a letter, telling me to meet Natalie here today."
"And why at this time?"
"This was the best time, no one would see me," he defended himself. Makes sense.
"So you come in the middle of the night to meet someone that is not expecting you at that time I could have killed you?"
"Umm, when you put it that way," he trails off.
I pull myself away from him so I'm no longer pinning him to the wall.
"Sorry about that."
"No need, I should be sorry."
"No offence but by someone who lives by 'we do not believe in good manners', you have some good ones."
We hear someone walking upstairs. I cover Amar's mouth with my hand so he doesn't speak.
"Everything ok?" Andrew whispers shouts from the stairs.
"Yeah, just talking to Matthew."
"Ok, just, just don't tell that to Natalie, she will kill both of us."
"Ok sorry Andrew." he walks back to his room.
I'm suddenly pulled against Amars chest. My back to his chest and a knife to my throat.
"Who the hell are you?" he asks.
Well shit.
"Line up!" Eric shouts to everyone and takes me out of my day dreaming.
We all stand in front of a target and start throwing the knives. Eric passes quickly behind us.
I'm no stranger to knives. My brother had a dart board in his room that we would use on a daily basis. The darts were starting to get to easy after a month or two so we used kitchen knives.
That thought made me smile. I'll have to try and not hit the target so that they don't get suspicious of me.
I play the song Move like a soldier by Kristina Maria in my head. It was a song that we heard when we were throwing knives. It just kinda worked with what we were doing.
The first throw hit the outer ring.
Discovery 1: The knife is lighter
Discovery 2: It travels straight
Solution (to hit bulls eye): Aim needs to be adjusted slightly higher
Solution (to not hit bulls eye): Don't aim for the bulls eye.
The next time I prepare to throw the knife, Peter talks.
"Look at the Stiff, looks she's done this before. Yet it seems like she can't hit the bulls eye."
Oh it's on.
I am a competitive person and there was a reason my brother wanted to look up the knives.
The next time I throw, I inhale aim, exhale throw. I look up and see it hit the bulls eye.
Take that Peter.
I look over and see Peter with his mouth open in complete shock.
"Peter, close your mouth or you'll catch flies," I yell to him and he closes his mouth.
Beside me, Christina snortsm and her knife hits the target.
We throw our last knife and go pick them up. I make sure that it hits the target but doesn't stick.
"You're like scary good at this," Christina tells me.
I just shrug it off. "Good luck I guess."
"You would think that after half an hour that Al would have been able to hit the target," Christina tells me as we go get out knives.
"Poor guy."
"How slow are you, Candor? Do you need glasses? Should I move the target closer to you?"
His face turns red, probably from embarrassment, he throws another knife. It doesn't hit the target.
That won't end well for him.
Christina and I go and get our knives, again.
"What was that initiate?" Eric asks, leaning closer to Al.
"It-it slipped," Al sais.
"Well, I think you should go get it," Eric says as he looks at all the initiates. "Did I tell you to stop?" he yells at us as we all get back to it.
Eric might be cruel but, in the long run, we have already been broken down and whatever happens to us, we have survived torchure, in a way. Also, because we have been pushed beyond what we thought possible, when we are in a life or death situation, we have an advantage.
Al's eyes go wide. "Go get it? But everyone's still throwing."
"And?"
"And I doNt, want to get hit."
"I think you can trust your fellow initiates to aum better than you." Eric smiles a little, but his eyes stay cruel. "Go get your knife."
"No," he stands his ground.
"Why not? Are you afraid?" Eric asks his eyes fixed on Al's face.
"Of getting stabbed by an airborne knife? Yes, I am!"
Wrong move. Standing your ground would have earned him bravery but admitting he was afraid, that was the wrong move.
"Everyone stop!" Eric shouts.
All knives and conversation stops.
"Clear out of the ring. All except you." He says looking at Al.
All the initiates walk to the edge of the room.
"Stand in front og the target," says eric.
Al's hands shake but he flows his order.
"Hey Four, give me a hand here, huh?" he says over his shoulder.
Four scratches one of his eyebrows with the tip of the knife and approaches Eric. His jaw shows almost no sign of being bruised. Good, I still feel bad about that.
"You're going to stand there as he throws those knives, until you learn not to flinch." Eric tells Al.
"How's that supposed to prove?" I ask.
"Excuse me?" Eric asks, offended.
I walk forward showing him that it was me and that I'm not scared of him. "What is standing in front of a target while someone throws knives at you supposed to prove?"
"Well it seems like the Stiff is questioning her leader. I would expect such a thing from Candor but a Stiff?"
''Again what's the point?" I ask, annoyed
"While, lets see if you get the point after you take his spot."
I nod to Al as I start to take his place.
"There goes your pretty face, oh wait. You doNt, have one." Peter hisses.
"Well at least I have bigger balls than you, I get a front row seat of someone throwing knives at me what do you get? Oh right, a gallery view." I counter. That shut him up good.
I stand in front of the target, staring at Four waiting for him to throw his knives.
"If you flinch, Al takes your place. Understand?" Four asks.
"Wouldn't want it any other way."
Four staring at me lifts his right hand that has one knife while the other holds two. He pulls his elbow back, and throws the knife. It lands half a foot away from my cheek.
"Are you about done, Stiff?"
"No."
I never leave his eyes, if he can read what I'm thinking, he would know that they would have to kill me, then drag my body away and burn it before I let anyone take my spot.
He passes one knife from his left to his right. Doing the same movement as before, the knife lands just above my head.
"Come on, Stiff, let someone else stand there and take it."
"Oh like yourself? You seem to not want to throw them to me, so why not take my place?"
He would never take my place. If Eric made Four show us how to throw a knife, he must not be as good.
He turns the last knife in his hand and flings it to me so fast that I didn't have time to think.
Everyone gasps.
I walk away from the target.
"I would live to stay and see if the rest of you are as daring as she is, but I think that's enough for today." Eric says.
He squeezes my shoulder and I immediately get out of his grasps. Ew.
"I should keep my eye on you," he adds.
"Maybe you should."
Four gives me a nod to the right telling me to stay behind.
Once everyone is gone, he talks. "Is your ear ok?"
I give him a questioning look then realise that he nicked my ear. "Oh ya, it's alright."
He looks surprised.
"If you wanted to do something, I was an open target, literally. I signed up for that when I took his place." I say and walk out.