I jerk awake to the obnoxious sound that Zeke had set on my alarm clock and I'm too lazy to fix. Grumbling, I shut it off and get ready for training.
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After grabbing a muffin from the dining hall and greeting my friends briefly, I start towards the training rooms with Lauren. We say goodbye at the door to the Dauntless Borns' room and I jog the rest of the way to the Transfers' so I have enough time to set up. I push open the door and head towards the left wall, where the cabinets are. Taking the key out of my pocket, I unlock the drawers that hold the guns and pull them out. I grab nine and push them onto the counter, closing and re-locking the drawers as the door opens. The initiates slump in the door, still rubbing their eyes from lack of sleep. They gather in the middle of the room and I walk in front of them, passing out the guns.
"The first thing you will learn today is how to shoot a gun. The second thing is how to win a fight." I press a gun into Tris' hands without looking her in the eyes. "Thankfully, if you are here, you already know how to get on and off a moving train, so I don't need to teach you that."
I continue to walk in front of them, although each is already holding a weapon. "Initiation is divided into three stages. We will measure your progress and rank you according to your performance in each stage. The stages are not weighted equally, so it is possible, though difficult, to improve your rank drastically over time."
I catch sight of Tris glaring at the gun clenched in her hands as if she is hurting someone just by holding it. I imagine that's how I looked two years ago, but I know that I also looked empowered, like I could no longer be told what to do. I soon found out, however, that the government is always controlling what we do. Our very thoughts are planted into our brains, and we don't even realize it.
"We believe that preparation eradicates cowardice, which we define as the failure to act in the midst of fear." I say, "Therefore, each stage of initiation is meant to prepare you in a different way. The first is primarily physical; the second, primarily emotional; and the third, primarily mental.
"But what…" Peter, the power-hungry looking redhead, yawns through his words. "What does firing a gun have to do with... Bravery?" I flip the gun in my hand, press the barrel to his forehead, and click a bullet into place. The coward freezes with his lips parted, the yawn dead in his mouth.
"Wake. Up." I snap. "You are holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it." Tris is watching us, and I hope she gets that I don't actually want to hurt any of them. I lower the gun, and see Peter's Candor-trained eyes harden. I'm surprised he can stop himself from retaliating. "And to answer your question…" I say, "You are far less likely to soil your pants and cry for your mother if you're prepared to defend yourself." I stop walking at the end of the row and turn on my heel.
"This is information you may need later in stage one, so watch me." I say, and then turn to face the familiar target. Inhale, aim. Exhale, fire. With a bang, the bullet shoots out of the gun in my hands and creates a hole in the middle of the target across from me. The initiates each turn to their own targets and fumble for their guns. I catch sight of Tris holding her gun as far away from her body as possible, her posture incorrect. She shoots, and the recoil sends her into the back wall.
The initiates continue shooting, and I see some of them have hit the targets already. Tris shoots again and again, but her bullets usually don't get very close. The Erudite boy next to Tris, Will, turns to her and smiles.
"Statistically speaking, you should have hit the target at least once by now, even if by accident."
"Is that so." She replies, without inflection.
"Yeah." He says with a smile. "A think you're actually defying nature." An unexplainable pang of jealousy attacks my chest and I almost turn away, afraid someone might notice my feelings for Tris.
A look of determination crosses her face and she holds the gun fastly, her knuckles turning white with her grip. She fires, and this time, the recoil doesn't send her as far back as before. I crane my neck and see that a small hole has appeared in the farthest ring on Tris' target. I smile.
"See?" Will says. "The stats don't lie." Tris grins, and nods at him.
For the next half hour, I walk around the room and help the initiates with their stances and the time I call lunch, most of them have sore arms and I have so much on my mind I almost walk into the wall a couple of times.
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I walk into the Dining hall and see that Zeke has saved me a spot at our usual table. Great. I was hoping to grab a meal and go back to my room so I can clear my mind. Guess not- he's already caught sight of me.I sit down in my seat, and Zeke looks at me quizzically.
"You look like you just got electrocuted and then cornered by some Candor. What happened?" I can't help but smile at that. Zeke's always joking.
"Well, falling asleep late and then trying to help nine people that have never seen a gun before manage not to hit each other instead of the target can do that to you, don't you think? It doesn't help that they consist mostly of know-it-alls and big-mouths, either." Lauren smiles sympathetically while Zeke and Shauna smile.
"It was your choice, dude. Just don't blame us!" Zeke puts his arm around me and laughs at the thought that I would willingly choose to do this and then complain. I throw my hands up comically. "You did ask! I better be heading back to torture now, though." Lauren stands up with me, but she heads over to the Dauntless Born while I motion to the Transfers. I lead them to the larger, older training room with punching bags and the fighting ring- which is basically a painted red circle in the middle of the room. I walk to the other side of the room and stand where I can be seen from anywhere in the room, while the initiates line up behind the bag opposite their name.
"As I said this morning, next you will learn how to fight." I continue before anyone can ask why we teach this. "The purpose of this is to prepare you to act; to prepare your body to threats and challenges- which you will need, if you intend to survive Dauntless." Several of the initiates get thoughtful looks on their faces at that, as if contemplating actually living in Dauntless.
"We will go over technique today, and tomorrow you will start to fight each other," I say, "So I recommend you pay attention. Those who don't learn quickly will get hurt."
Then, I start to demonstrate different punches and kicks, performing them first in the air, and then on a punching bag. Every time, I use so much force that the bag threatens to fly off of the hook. The initiates copy me, but most of them are clumsy, their punches and kicks flimsy against the unmoving bags. I move down the line, helping the initiates with the correct posture and how to move for certain punches or kicks. Finally, I stop in front of Tris. She stops throwing punches at the bag and watches me watch her. I scan her body, not allowing my eyes to linger anywhere, and notice that she isn't very muscular. Expected, considering that she is from Abnegation. There is only confusion in her eyes as she waits for me to say something.
"You don't have much muscle, so you'd be better off using your knees and elbows. You can put more power behind them" I say. I place a hand on her stomach, and momentarily forget what I was going to say as her eyes widen. I mentally shake my head to clear it and start to speak. "Never forget to keep tension here," I manage in a low voice, before pulling my hand back and continuing down the row.
The rest of the evening goes by, and I can't stop replaying the image of Tris' eyes widening at my touch and the thrill of feeling her skin under mine. Finally, I dismiss the group for dinner and drag myself back to my room. I collapse onto my bed and surrender to sleep.
