Author's note: Thank you to all those who read the first chapter and for all the reviews. I hope you continue to read.
Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent. All characters and related material are property of Veronica Roth.
When everyone is on solid ground I walk from my position at the foot of the net. I reach the front of the initiates and steel my gaze, hardening my face and features. I become Four, the fearless. I make sure my outside matches that of a true Dauntless so that no one will be brave enough to ask where I came from. Lauren walks up beside me, as we turn to face the initiates.
"You ready?" She asks. A sly smile tugging at her lips. I know she is secretly hoping one of them will pop off and I will have a reason to 'put on a show'. Maybe Uriah will and I will finally have a reason to punch him in his smart-ass mouth. "After you. " she gestures at the transfers gazing around the cavern in disbelief.
I hold up a hand and wave for the initiates to follow me. Lauren and I lead them down the tunnel towards the pit. We stop just outside and Lauren speaks up, "This is where we part ways. I trust you Dauntless born don't need a tour of this place, so follow me." She heads toward the Dauntless born dormitory with the initiates hot on her heels.
I harden my face once more and turn around. "My name is Four. Most of the time I work in the control room, but for the next few weeks I'll be your instructor." A Candor girl speaks up. Before the words even come out of her mouth, I am annoyed. I hate smart-asses.
"Four. Like the number?" She looks pretty amused with her comment and a few of the other Candor snicker.
"Yes," I say, careful to keep my temper in check. "Is there a problem?"
"No."
"Good." I continue my explanation. "We're about to go into the Pit, which you will someday learn to love. It—" She interrupts me again. I swear this girl has a death wish. I clinch my fists tightly and bite down hard in attempt to keep my temper in check.
Christina snickers. "The Pit? Clever name."
I walk up to Christina and lean my face close to hers. My eyes narrow, and for a second I just stare at her. "What's your name?" I ask quietly. But in a much more threatening tone than with the Abnegation girl at the net.
"Christina," she squeaks.
"Well, Christina, if I wanted to put up with Candor smart-asses, I would have joined their faction," I hiss. "The first lesson you will learn from me is to keep your mouth shut. Got that?"
She nods.
I start toward the shadow at the end of the tunnel. The crowd of initiates moves on in silence. People are everywhere, all dressed in black, all shouting and talking, expressively gesturing. A group of children run down a narrow path with no railing, so fast my heart pounds, and I want to scream at them to slow down before they get hurt. A memory of the orderly Abnegation streets appears in my mind: a line of people on the right passing a line of people on the left, small smiles and inclined heads and silence. Some of the initiates gasp bringing me out of my daydream. I shudder slightly at the memory of my old life. I came here to escape all that. I look around the Pit once more. There is something wonderful about Dauntless chaos.
"If you follow me," I say in my best unimpressed voice, "I'll show you the chasm." I wave the initiates forward.
We head off towards the Chasm. I can feel her eyes studying me from behind. They have an intensity to them I can't explain. Logical, analytical, yet wild and explosive at the same time. I caught them just briefly after I got in the Candor's face. I touch my hand to the back of my neck and realize it's probably just my tattoo she is looking at. She's probably never seen one before. My appearance seems tame from the front, by Dauntless standards, I can't imagine what she thinks about the other Dauntless.
I lead us to the right side of the Pit, which is conspicuously dark. I hear a roar—water, fast-moving water, crashing against rocks. I look over the side. The floor drops off at a sharp angle, and several stories below us is a river. Gushing water strikes the wall beneath me and sprays upward. To my left, the water is calmer, but to my right, it is white, battling with rock. I look to see some of the initiates have backed away. But not her. Her eyes dance wild like the river before her.
"The chasm reminds us that there is a fine line between bravery and idiocy!" I shout. "A daredevil jump off this ledge will end your life. It has happened before and it will happen again. You've been warned." With that I turn and walk back towards the Pit.
We walk into the dinning hall and the Dauntless inside stand. They applaud. They stamp their feet. They shout. I look at the initiates faces wanting to see their reactions. I remember how overwhelming it was for me as a transfer. Some of them look embarrassed by all the attention. Others look confused. Some just look exhausted by today's events. Tris is the only one that seems to be absorbing it all. Taking it all in like she was awake for the first time. So small and fragile on the outside, yet there is something strong and fierce about her, like a bird taking flight.
I hear Zeke's voice behind me and I turn to go sit with him. "Dude I was saying your name for like five minutes. Where's your head at today? You nervous about the newbies or something?"
I am getting ready to tell him about my visit this morning, when I see the Candor girl walk up with the Abnegation girl right by her side. They sit down, with the Abnegation girl right beside me. Zeke gives them the once over and then gives me a thumbs up. He leaves for work in the control room shortly after introducing himself to Christina and Tris. He lingers a bit when shaking Christina's hand. Leave it to Zeke to like the loud-mouths.
In the center of the table is a platter of food. I look over and see Tris staring at it. I know she is unsure of what it is. I remember. How can I not? Zeke certainly hasn't let me forget. I nudge her with my elbow. I'm still not all that confortable with personal contact, unless, of course, it involves punching or kicking someone. She looks up, startled to see I was actually trying to get her attention.
"It's beef. Put this on it." I pass her the ketchup.
"You've never had a hamburger before?" asks Christina, her eyes wide.
"No," she says, still looking at it like it might be poisonous. . "Is that what it's called?"
"Stiffs eat plain food," I say, nodding at Christina.
"Why?" she asks.
Tris shrugs. "Extravagance is considered self-indulgent and unnecessary."
Christina smirks, "No wonder you left."
"Yeah," She says, rolling her eyes. "It was just because of the food."
The corner of my mouth twitches. I try to cover it up, but I know she caught me and she smiles a little, relaxing her breathing for the first time since I caught her from the net.
The doors to the cafeteria open, and a hush falls over the room. I look over my shoulder, but I already know who it is. Eric walks straight across the room, making a bee line for our table.
"Who's that?" whispers Christina.
"His name is Eric," I say. "He's a Dauntless leader."
"Seriously? But he's so young."
I give her a grave look. "Age doesn't matter here."
I can tell she's about to ask another question when he drops into the seat next to me. He offers no greeting, so neither do we.
"Well, aren't you going to introduce me?" he asks, nodding to Christina and Tris.
"This is Tris and Christina."
"Ooh, a Stiff," says Eric, smirking at her. His smile pulls at the piercings in his lips, making the holes they occupy wider, and he looks even more like the evil maniac he truly is. "We'll see how long you last." He winks at me and his words from earlier play in my head again.
Tris stares at Eric like she is about to say something and I hope for her sake she changes her mind. Eric could, and would, break her in half in a heartbeat. She opens her mouth, but then loses her nerve. Eric continues to size her up. But then remembers why he sat down in the first place, to intimidate me, and moves on.
"So Four, have you thought about Max's offer anymore?" He glares at me with that same evil grin he had while sizing up Tris.
"No. I already told you, both last week and this morning, I'm satisfied in my current position. " I snap back at him. I want this conversation to be over. "I haven't been interested for two years."
"Well," says Eric. "Let's hope Max gets the point, then."
He claps me on the shoulder, a little too hard, and gets up. When he walks away, I slouch immediately. I had not realized that I was so tense.
"Are you two…friends?" Tris says, a little too freely for an Abnegation.
"We were in the same initiate class," I say, "He transferred from Erudite." I eye her suspiciously. Wondering where all this curiosity comes from, if she is truly from Abnegation.
"Were you a transfer too?" My face hardens. She has pushed too far. I feel my temper burst and I bite down hard on my cheek to keep from punching the wall beside me or yelling in her face.
"I thought I would only have trouble with the Candor asking too many questions," I say coldly. "Now I've got Stiffs, too?"
"It must be because you're so approachable," She say flatly. "You know. Like a bed of nails."
I stare at her. I can see that wild manic spark building inside them. It is mesmerizing. It is brave. She doesn't look away. Looking away is submissive. Looking me in the eye is a challenge. It's her choice. Suddenly, I can see the heat rush into her cheeks and they blush bright crimson. I can feel the heat boiling within myself too. But it is not the anger I felt earlier. This is different, like a hunger deep from within. What will happen when this tension breaks?
She tries to look away, but I grab her chin and turn her face towards mine. I lean in close and in a warning tone whisper, "Careful, Tris."
I stalk out of the dinning hall and go straight to the training room. I wrap my hands in tape, they are still swollen from this morning's session. I go over to the punching bag, but it still lays on the floor. I don't feel like hanging It right now. I make a mental note to arrive early, so I can hang it in the morning. Then I see the knives.
I walk over to the table with the throwing knives and pick one up, turning it over and over in my hand. As I do my thoughts turn to Eric's comments this morning. I hear his psychotic voice. I would hate for one of your initiates to suffer because of your judgement. Then I see the flash of a blade fly through the air. Almost instinctively, I had thrown the knife dead center. I throw one after another. Adjusting my aim. Hitting my target perfectly each time. I don't know how long Eric had been standing there when he clears his throat. I turn, knife in hand, ready to throw. He is lucky it didn't go through his skull.
"So just coming to check and make sure you have everything ready for tomorrow. It looks like we have a pretty good group considering where they transferred from. I don't know about that Stiff though. " I can tell Eric is trying to bait me. I turn and resume throwing knives at the wall. He continues "Maybe someone should loosen her up a bit. To bad she still looks like a little girl." I turn and face him. I see an evil grin spread across his face, pulling his piercings into garish angles. He raises on eyebrow at me, noticing the reaction he garnered when he mentioned her. "Maybe it's time somebody makes a woman out of her. " He puts his hand to his pointed chin like he is imagining what it would be like.
I throw the knife without thinking, blind rage building behind my eyes. It is moments like these that Eric reminds me so much of my father. I think that maybe the only reason I won our fight during training. He said something in that same mocking tone my father used to use and I just snapped. When I came out of it Amar was pulling me off of him. Eric lie on the mat begging for mercy. I kicked him one last time, before Amar could tear me way, hating him for making me become my father.
Eric yells, "What the fuck Four? Watch where you are throwing those things. You could have killed me!" I notice there is blood running down his ear where the knife nicked him. I was being careful or you would be dead right now. With that Eric turns and leaves the training room.
I leave shortly after that. I lay down on my bed and the words stare back at me. Fear God Alone. I am soon sound asleep. But, my dreams are filled with images I can't make out. At one point I am standing in a field and I see a bird all alone on the ground. It looks hurt. Small and fragile. I feel like I need to protect it. I run towards the bird, but as soon as I reach out for it, it flies away strong and wild into the sky. The last thing I see is a pair of hazel eyes.