Chapter 2
I groan in pain when my back hits the mat. Eric is on top of me straddling my hips, his hands around my throat.
"Break free," he commands and I groan again. Every training session ends this way and no matter how hard I try I have not managed to get out of his hold once.
I try to bring my knee up to hit him in his crotch but he simply tightens his legs, putting more pressure on my hip bones and preventing me from even moving an inch.
Next, I try to get my head up – maybe if I am able to headbutt him, aim for his piercings, I might have a chance. I quickly dismiss the thought, however, when his grip around my throat tightens and my oxygen supply is effectively cut off.
Black spots start dancing in front of my eyes and for the first time I actually start to panic.
"E-Eric," I croak, wrapping my hands around his wrists, yet he does not ease up. His eyes bore coldly into mine and I am suddenly sure that this is it, I'm going to die, Eric has somehow found out about my Divergence and is going to kill me.
But then he withdraws his hands and gets off me.
I immediately begin to gasp and roll onto my stomach, trying to get as much oxygen into my lungs as possible while bringing a hand up to rub my sore throat.
When my lungs are burning and my breathing returns to normal I slowly start to sit up. Eric grabs my forearms and pulls me to my feet.
I'm shaking so hard that my legs give out immediately and he slings an arm around my waist to keep me up.
"You okay?" he asks, brows furrowed, and for a moment I can only stare at him.
Then I snap.
"You fucking asshole!" I scream, not caring about any consequences for insulting him. "What the hell was that for? You almost killed me!"
I try to slap him but he easily catches my wrist.
"You done?" he asks after several seconds. I glare at him.
"I needed to show you what happens if you don't manage to break free," he then explains slowly. "And that wasn't even the worst that could happen to you."
He must see the confusion on my face because he sighs and then lets go of my wrist.
"Tris," he continues. "You are strong but you are also pretty damn small and I am twice your weight. In that position I could have done anything to you. Anything. It would have been far too easy to pin your hands above your head with one hand and rip off your clothes with the other."
My eyes widen when I finally realize what he's hinting at. I am starting to feel nauseous.
"How – how can I prevent someone from doing that to me?" I ask. "You have me pinned to that mat for weeks now, I wasn't able to even get you to loosen your grip on me, not once."
"I give you a week to come up with different ideas," he smirks. "It's your homework. And after the meeting with Erudite next Thursday you tell me what you could think off, we try out your ideas – and then I'll show you what will actually work. Until then, we'll focus more on your punches and knife throwing."
"Please", I snort. "You know damn well my knife throwing skills are awesome."
He rolls his eyes. "Don't get too cocky, trainee."
I'm about to respond when the door to the training room opens and Uriah walks in.
"Trissy," he sing-songs, "I'm here to pick you up for lunch-"
He stops abruptly, narrowing his eyes.
"Am I interrupting something?"
I blink and then realize that Eric still has his arm around my waist. I blush.
"Yes, training," Eric snaps before letting go of me. "You do not come in here and decide when we are done. We are done when I say so. Understood?"
"Sorry man-"
"I'm not your man, I'm your leader and you will show me some respect," Eric bellows and Uriah effectively shuts up.
"Sorry, Eric."
Eric gives him another icy glare before he turns his gaze toward me.
"Go," he says, his tone softer, and nods his head in Uriah's direction. "Have lunch with your friends. I'll see you later in my office."
I nod and give him a smile before leaving the mat and walking toward Uriah.
"Just give me five minutes so I can shower and get changed."
My friend smirks. "Need any help with that?"
"Uriah!" I laugh, blushing again. He winks before leaving the training room. I shake my head and head for the locker room.
A couple of minutes later Uriah and I join Christina, Will, Lynn, Marlene, Zeke and Four at our usual table in the canteen.
"Holy shit," Christina gapes, almost dropping her fork. "What happened to your neck?"
I takes me a second to answer because I'm genuinely surprised that she's talking to me again. She was quite pissed at me for having heard about my break-up with Four from my ex-boyfriend himself and then further infuriated when it was Will who told her that he had to stitch me up. It's the first time she's talking to me in almost a week.
"Training with Eric," I finally answer. Four nearly spits out his mashed potatoes.
"Has he lost his damn mind?" he says furiously. "I'm having words with him, this is unacceptable-"
"You will do no such thing," I snap at him and he stares at me like I've lost my mind. "I'm not your responsibility. Not anymore, remember? Besides, I can handle Eric."
"Clearly," Four scoffs and I'm two seconds away from screaming at him.
How dare he? Over the last week we were as civil with each other as possible. Yes, he hurt me but that does not mean that I hate him. Once upon a time, before we fell in love, we were friends and I do not want to lose that friendship. He does not make it easy, though. Sometimes, just like now, he acts like I still belong to him.
I let out a deep breath. "Four, I appreciate your concern, really. But you lost every right to get any saying when it comes to me and my life when you slept with Shauna."
Zeke's fork falls onto his plate with a loud clang, causing the entire canteen to fall silent.
"That's who you've been cheating with?" he asks incredulously. "You slept with my ex-girlfriend?"
My eyes widen when I realize my mistake. I did not want to out Four, I simply assumed that since no one has asked any questions that he has told them all what happened.
Zeke throws down his knife before getting up and leaving the hall.
"Four-", I start to apologize but he only waves his hand in a dismissive manner.
"I should have told him from the beginning," he sighs, getting up as well. "Excuse me."
I watch him hurry after Zeke. When he's gone I let my eyes travel through the canteen and meet Eric's cold gaze.
When I enter the office corridor after lunch Eric's already sitting at his desk.
"Any files for me?" I ask.
"I've already put them on your desk," he answers without looking away from his computer. I raise an eyebrow.
"Anything else?" he asks, still not glancing in my direction.
"No," I reply confused, already beginning to turn around.
"Then get to work, trainee," he barks.
I shake my head while heading into my own office. That man can change his mood in the blink of an eye.
Like Eric said there was a stack of files already waiting for me on my desk and with a sigh I plop down onto my chair and reach for the first one. It's a report from Amity about factionless attempting to ambush one of the food trucks. Nothing new. The frequency, however, in which they try to steal food has increased. It used to be two times a month, now we get a report almost every week, sometimes even twice.
I have read through half of the report when Eric's office phone rings.
"What?" I hear him bark and roll my eyes. As friendly as always. "Shit – yes. Yeah, give me the location. We'll be there shortly."
He ends the call and two seconds later appears in my doorway.
"Factionless managed to ambush one of the weapons trucks," he says. "They have barricaded themselves in one of the empty office buildings in the factionless sector. Get down to the weapons room and arm up, you're coming with me."
I freeze and stare at him with wide eyes. After initiation I have continued to train shooting and perfected my aim – always on training targets, however. I have never had to use my gun against another human being, I have never had to go out in the field.
"You'll be fine," his tone finally becomes a bit softer. "You're a good soldier. I'll call the others, meet me down there in five."
And with that he is gone.
I take a deep breath, trying to unsuccessfully calm my racing heart, before I get up and make my way downstairs. As instructed I let myself into the weapons room and grab a gun as well as several knives and put them all into their respective places in my uniform.
By the time I re-do my ponytail and put my communication device into my left ear the rest of our team hurries inside. I immediately spot Uriah and Zeke.
"Four?" I ask and am surprised when I hear his answer via my earpiece.
"In the control room. I'll keep an eye on your surroundings out there."
Eric enters last. His eyes immediately find mine and he heads straight toward me.
"Here, put this on," he says, shoving something into my hands. I raise my eyebrows.
"Bulletproof vest?" I blink.
"Like I said, they ambushed a weapons struck. They will be heavily armed," Eric replies while putting on his own vest. I nod my head and swallow. Eric rolls his eyes, takes the vest out of my hands and then helps me put it on before checking the rest of my uniform.
"Okay," he barks then. "Get into the trucks. Once we're there: try not to hurt any civilians. Anyone with a weapon gets shot on sight."
"Eric," I pipe up and he immediately glares at me. "You really wanna shoot before they-"
"Every person with a gun is a threat to my team," Eric interrupts me angrily, his eyes cold. "So yes, before one of them can even attempt to shoot one of us you will do as I tell you and put a fucking bullet in their brains, is that clear?"
"Yes, Sir," I reply, gritting my teeth. Something dark flashes behind his eyes, so fast I almost missed it.
"Good. Then let's go."
During the ride I sit next to Uriah. Staring out of the window I can barely keep my thoughts straight. I know I need to focus but I am nervous.
I flinch when Uriah puts his hand on my knee to stop my leg from fidgeting.
"You'll be fine," he says, just like Eric earlier. "It's almost like capture the flag."
"Except that you die if you get shot," I snort.
"Then don't get shot," he smirks and I can't help it, I burst out laughing.
"Thanks, Uri," I say then before squeezing his hand.
All too soon we arrive at our destination. I'm the last to step out of the vehicle and when I do Eric grabs my upper arm and stares down at me.
"You stay close to me," he says, his grey eyes boring into mine with such an intensity that I feel a shiver run down my spine. "Don't leave my side. And whatever that brain of yours tells you to do, you follow my orders and don't do anything stupid, understood?"
I nod.
"And don't hesitate," Eric continues, his grip around my arm tightening. "If it's your life or theirs, you pull that fucking trigger."
Again, I nod. He keeps looking at me like he's searching for something and I return his gaze with all the determination of a trained soldier. Because that is exactly what I am.
Apparently satisfied, Eric finally lets go of my arm and steps back.
"Keep your eyes and ears open!" He instructs us while pulling out his gun. I do the same. "Four, anything on the cameras?"
"So far there's no one in sight."
"You really trust him with your life?" I ask in surprise. I'm sure he's going to scream at me again but to my surprise he smirks.
"No. But I trust him with yours."
When everyone has their guns drawn Eric signals for us to follow. We march up the steps toward the glass double front doors of the office building. So far, it's deadly silent.
"Do we know what kind of weapons there were in the truck, Four?" Eric asks.
"Yeah, I got a hold of Max earlier, he said the order consisted of guns only."
Eric nods, then turns his head to look at me.
"Stay behind me until we make contact," he orders in his leader voice and I immediately step behind his back. I glance around and see Uriah and Zeke standing next to me.
Eric raises his hand and shows us three fingers, then two, then one – and then kicks down the doors with such force that they not only open but bang against the wall behind them, causing the glass to shatter into thousands of tiny shards. Again, he motions for us to follow and we begin to move in formation, guns poised.
My heart is beating painfully fast against my ribcage when I glance in every direction, expecting gunfire to hail down on us any second now.
But nothing happens. We keep moving until we are in front of the elevators and Eric signals to take the stairs instead.
The second floor is as empty as the first floor. When we arrive at the glass door to the third floor, however, I put my hand on Eric's forearm and stop him in his tracks. He turns and looks at me with raised eyebrows.
I point toward a tiny, barely noticeable spot of a shadow next to the frame of the milky glass.
"There's someone behind that door," I mouth, praying that he understands. He nods his head. He points at Zeke, who nods as well and then both of them get into position at each side of the door. Again, he counts from three backwards before kicking down the door. A scream of pain erupts from inside the room and then Eric and Zeke are pushing forward. Gun shots ring out, both men dart to the side and return the fire.
I can feel my heartbeat in my ear and become slightly dizzy.
"Tris," Uriah grabs my hand and squeezes and my vision sharpens again. I nod, raise my gun a little higher and follow the rest of our team into the lounge of the third floor.
We are surrounded by factionless with guns trained on our heads. And despite my earlier concerns I do not hesitate now. I aim and fire, aim and fire and ignore the grunts of pain all around me, the spray of blood against the walls when my bullets hit home, the way my targets fall to the floor and do no longer move.
Adrenalin is rushing through me like a drug and I feel like I'm flying. Uriah apparently has left my side and I can't find Zeke in the ever oncoming factionless. I do, however, make out Eric just a few steps ahead of me.
Good. At least my subconscious mind remembered to stay close to him.
Eric's gun lies discarded on the floor next to him and he is in hand-to-hand combat with one of the factionless. For a second I block out everything around me. Watching Eric fight is amazing and terrifying at the same time. The way his biceps tenses up during his punches, the way his mouth is set into a tight line, the coldness in his eyes – Eric is the definition of a soldier. The definition of dangerous.
I see movement out of the corner of my eyes and when I turn my head to the right I see a factionless man armed with a knife making his way toward Eric's turned back. I aim my gun at him and pull the trigger. However, the only thing happening is a soft klicking noise signaling that I have run out of bullets.
I do not have the time to reload before that man reaches Eric.
"Eric!" I scream, running at full speed toward him.
The knife is already on its way down when I throw myself between Eric and his attacker and bring up my gun with both hands to block the blade. The force behind the stabbing-attempt is enough to knock the gun out of my hands. My eyes turn to the gun at my feet for maybe the fraction of a second but it's enough for the factionless to attack again and I am barely able duck out of the way of the oncoming knife. I bring up my left arm and block the knife again, however, the man is much stronger than me and I have not yet had enough practice regarding knife fighting. I manage to keep him from stabbing me but somehow he does end up cutting my left cheek. I feel an intense burning and then warm blood trickling down my cheek and onto my neck. I block another attempt to stab me, however, the factionless simultaneously raises his foot and kicks me in the ribs. I stumble backward, gasping for breath, and lose my footing, falling onto my backside.
I am desperately trying to get some oxygen into my lungs again all the while keeping my eyes on the man advancing on me, knife raised.
I am not in any condition to defend myself.
He raises the knife even higher, ready to strike – and then all of a sudden Eric is between me and the factionless. He grabs the wrist holding the knife with one hand and wraps his other hand around the man's throat. The man's eyes widen as Eric lifts him off the ground as if he weighs nothing and then slams him to the floor. I hear the sickening crack of the man's skull. A second later, blood begins to flow around his head, quickly building a puddle.
I am panting and staring in shock at the man's now empty eyes. And for a moment I wonder. I wonder if this is what will happen to me if Eric finds out that I am Divergent.
I blink when Eric offers me his hand and, after taking it, pulls me to my feet. He softly places a hand on my chin and turns my head to the side, inspecting my wound.
"You did good," he says then, smiling. "You saved my life."
Then he addresses the rest of our team and I realize that all of the factionless are dead.
"Collect the weapons and search the building."
I glance around the lounge and notice two Dauntless soldiers – which I don't know by name – dead on the ground, before I move into action and help gather the weapons.
"Four, send a second team with a truck to bring the weapons to Dauntless."
"Copy that."
After making sure that we found all the weapons and that no more factionless are left in the building we wait for the second team to arrive before getting into our trucks and making our way back to Dauntless.
When we arrive Christina, Max and a few others are already waiting for us.
The moment I step out of the vehicle Christina throws herself at me. I wince in pain when she collides with my upper body.
"Thank god," she murmurs before pulling away. "I was so worried – oh my god, Tris! You're hurt!"
"It's nothing serious," Eric says next to us. His eyes find mine and he nods toward my friend. "Nonetheless, you should let her take you to the infirmary. Have Will take a look at the wound and check your ribs. Might be you broke some."
I nod and Christina grabs my hand and drags me with her.
"Stiff," Eric calls after me and I look at him over my shoulder. He is smirking. "Thanks for earlier."
I smile and let Christina lead me to the infirmary.