If I Did What I Wanted...
Days were getting blurred, training, conditioning, skills, fear sims. Initiates were getting stronger, I only lost 3 more over the time, which is better than Amar's class. They walked, but it wasn't a surprise, seen as cowardly. Hot days easily turn into nights at the Pit with mornings of sneaking out before the sun. Keeping everything low key brings little suspicion to watching Amar from a distance. Finding his initiate history threw red flags, but it either went undetected or purposefully let alone. Not sure which to question first, someone who is in inadequate in leadership, or someone that's possibly a sleeper. Both are disturbing, both scenarios needing time to answer. I hope it's the first, that may have already taken care of itself. But if it's the second, I may be scratching at the surface of something much greater.
I remember being one of Amar's initiates, following his every move, balancing the physical with the mental. We were more like a test case, and many couldn't handle it. I've let go of the anger of watching a few good soldiers shrivel at his arrogance, molding his favorite above me. And for what, Four wants nothing to do with leadership as it is, and I get be the consolation, which I am reminded of constantly. I feel the beginning of being a pawn, Max overlooking much that I am doing, knowing I wasn't the first choice. I'm already questioning who to trust. Private meetings in Erudite draws too much attention, the everyday chatter discussing shipping routes and water stores never needs much one on one discussion. Although I am a leader, I am only herding the sheep up a mountain to the cliff, whether or not they are brave enough to stay on is up to them. Amar will seal his own fate, he is tying his own rope, the truth of who he is what will make him swing.
My early morning walk through the bags, I find Jules alone, already sweating, knuckles bloody. She doesn't notice me. I find a pillar to lean on, listening to her breathe. The bag can be deceiving, swaying and spinning against thrusts and hooks. But she zoned in, little will break her concentration. Her pace picks up with a double left, she holds her breath, pinches her lips between her teeth. Its less about skills, more about anger, demons, burying hurt. I was like her once. Letting everything blur around me, lost in my own head, feeling nothing in my hands but power. It can get intoxicating, controlling, but the bag doesn't respond, it doesn't fight. Its sway reminds you its useless here, you aren't going to win. That hollow feeling creeps in telling you you're done, you're spent. The fight in your head is over, for now. She slips with a gab and the bag spins, she watches it for a while, a frozen gaze. A door slam breaks her out of her zone. She rubs her eyes, before noticing her bloody knuckles.
"You need to clean that off," a shocking quiver lets me know she hears me, her eyes widen, looking for the source of my voice.
"I'm going for a towel, didn't expect to go that hard at it," still not knowing where I am.
"Did you learn all that here, how to fight?", I finally let the sun find me, turning from the pillar.
She finds me, a slight smile turns up the corners of her mouth; out of familiarity, her shoulders relax. "The fields weren't always so kind", she looks away, out of shame, or just out of time, I will never be sure. "I'm going to grab a towel." My eyes follow her, the morning sun finding the golden highlights in her dark hair, loose ringlet strands waving in the slight draft. She leaves her boots and jacket, running barefoot to the stalls. She returns, her hair better tied up, water splashed across her face, her jaw line more defined then before when she took her first jump. "I'm not going to get ratted out for hitting it early?", she faces me with a bit of worry, I notice a new tattoo behind her ear, scrolling down to her neck. I am fascinated by it, I almost forget she asked me a question.
"No." I watch her clean the red marks off, then bend over to slip her boots on. Her bare arms show many scars, highlighted by new bruises, and yet I watch her face, at ease now, but how the hurt was etched across before. How good she must be at hiding it, what I could read when she thought she was alone. "You should cover your cuts, they will heal faster."
"Oh, yeah, I'll get them taped before I grab food. Thanks," she slips away, to the dorm, I'm stuck like an idiot. The two times I have come across Jules, I am suddenly aware of everything about her. How she moves, when she looks my way. I can't let her get under my skin, she is supposed to be almost faceless to me, something to train for the fence, or flush out like a bad apple. I never wanted the need to see her creep into my head. I am alone again, with no one in the gym, but for the first time, her walking away makes me feel empty.
I center my thoughts, prepare for my day. Shooting range, and a war game plan. I'll let my group slide today, rest and heal up a bit for war games. Its the first time both groups are together. I'm eager to get out there, for the fun of the hunt, trainees or not. Getting a little dirty, shooting a moving target, all in the name of skill development; its a perk of being trainer, and no one is going to bleed to death. If they make it to the end without getting shot, they might make it above the red line, live to see another day.
We sort our teams on the darkest off train rides out to the pier. I let Amar have a few of my weakest, I got his biggest asset, Quinn; his size and demeanor I remember from the roof. He takes Jules before I can claim her, but anything else might raise a few eye brows. Glow flags and guns handed out, darts loaded. Everyone only gets 6, after that, its hand to hand.
My team hits the ground running, my only instruction is to hide the flag at the top of the dome, climbing the rails needs a bit of skill, the middle ground defense is almost to easy. The rest is up to Zarah and Shea, both are smart and know whats at stake. I join the defence, while Zarah takes the offence out to search. Shea leads the defense, gives me more of a suggestion, he doesn't look at me in the eye, about staying as a pillar guard, but he gives orders well to the rest. I tad sheepish to authority, but among peers, he is fitting as leadership. Things I will remember for the terminal.
In the silence before the onslaught, I lean against the brick, the heat of the day still radiating. A slight breeze whistling through the rusted rivet holes. Off in the distance, the wisping of shots fired and hollows of pain. I don't hear footsteps yet, the pants of labored breathing. The other team still fanning out, looking for any source of light from the flag. One of my defense took is lanyard light, hooked it on the corner of a collapsed container, the breeze swaying the light. He hid under the remnants of metal and waited, smart as fuck, quiet and cunning.
Amar's offence came running with heavy feet, gave away their strike. I can only count 4, which means its the first wave. Two were taken out by shadow boy in the remnants, I pop a girl who didn't check her six around the containers. She drops her gun, which I grab as I head to the other pillar, doubles my ammo, waiting for the footsteps of the 4th. I hear nothing, not even a breath, until a slight rattle of a gun give its location away. I head over the the corner, grab the eyes of shadow boy, gesture to lay low, I'm taking out this one. I make out the figure, a ray of a sliver moon breaks through clouds giving away her hair, I know instantly its Jules. She heads around the far corner, assuming the empty lake is safe from threats, still not knowing I'm behind her. She backs against the container, as to sense something was off, rotates her head in my direction. I freeze, with my gun still at the ready, not wanting to shoot, the act of taking her out seeming so domineering, a feeling I'm an not used to, which makes me hesitate, in the field would be death.
Her eyes find my face, I know its her or me to make a choice. "Shoot me if you have to," as a whisper. I step closer, within inches of her face, lowering my gun. No one would hear anything, if I shot her or not. A breeze lifts the sent of soap and leather. I raise my hand to her shoulder, she doesn't protest. I hear more shots and screams, but it is now useless noise. I want to kiss her, touch her skin of her face, taste her lips, feel her body against mine. We stare at each other for longer than we should.
"I can't," and that's all I can muster. Sounds of more bodies running, a few pops. "Watch your back, stay out of the line of fire." More silence between us. "Pillar guards don't have many darts left." Her lips part, waiting for more from me, I can't let myself do what I want. She turns her head away, readys her gun again, and heads back toward the dome. Leaning against the container, I want to scream. My foot finds the wall of few times, so angry at myself that I let myself get distracted.
I run back around the corner, the collapsed container empty now. I am putting it to timing that he shouldn't have seen us. The pillar guards are empty, one went down, but I threw her my claimed spare gun, she will be fine in a few minutes to defend again. I hear a fight in the stairwell up to the grid. I know one of them is Jules. Shea is the last before open air to the center of the old dome, if she can make it that far. Its climbing through a firing squad from the wide open floor as she would walk across the beams. If she does get hit, working through the pain instead of letting go to her death. That spot is a tad more sinister, but when there are no rules, there is also no second guessing. She will be brave enough to finish it.
An air horn floods the area, my offence must have found the other flag.
"Guns down, guns down!,"relived Jules won't make that walk across, being an easy target for event he worst shot. I flip on my beam light and start counting the withering bodies, not as many as I was hoping of Amar's team. "I want to see darts, who got hit, and how many left in your guns". A few of my team pull them out like badges of bravery, taking 1 or 2, but still emptying their clips. Most clips were empty, or with just one left. Its a good judge of how they shot, how they kept going. And it fills my time waiting for Jules to come out of the stairwell with Shea. I want to see her, make sure she's ok.
"So, you finally won at something," I knew right away I need to put Amar in his place, him losing at anything will mean digging at everything else for a while.
"Start getting used to it, the view from walking behind someone else."
"Anyone bleeding?"
"So far, so good." The tension keeps building between Amar and I, he was studying me, for whatever reason. A major loss did hurt when trying to stay in the leadership circles, he also doesn't know he will be watched with a magnifying glass for the next phase. I bet he sensed it, he knows what came be followed and how.
"I'm heading up, got to indoctrinate a few."
"Fair enough," and I stare at his outline until he disappears into the darkness. I hear the raising of cheering voices, banter and harmless digs. Its still a cut off night for some, bags will be packed and shifted out. I still have work to do.
"Shea, is everyone accounted for?"
"Yeah, no one is left under the dome, stairs are clear, I grabbed the flag, it's packed with the guns. Zarah and I are heading out, the rest are heading towards the train."
Leaving no questions open, I head toward the train, many Dauntless borns are missing, but I know where they're going. They will be awake early for as my present for the extra fun, but I say nothing to divert them. Two miles in the air on a rusty old cable may thrill some. I did it once, and that's all I will ever need. I see Jules finally, more so her reflection in the door glass. She's leaning on a pole, I can tell she is tired, sore, and a bit defeated. Adrenalin must be keeping her up as she converses with a few others. I loose myself again staring at her, the rock of the train a tad hypnotizing. The screeching of brakes hauling us back to the compound preps everyone to rush out. A few brave ones jump to the platform, but the rest wait, as do I. I need the Pit, to drown the memory of everything I did, everything I shouldn't have done, and everything I wanted to do. I finish at the terminal, knowing I just let one of mine go. It was time, its better this way, or at least that's the idea I hold on to.
I pass the Chasm, I see her shadow again, sitting by the edge. I can't be around her, I would do all the wrong things, I wouldn't be nice, I would want to leave scars. So I go to Cree, she has what I need ready, a few behind the first, because she knows me better than I know myself, and for now that will be enough.