The following day returns us to training with more fights and more bruises littered across everyone's bodies. Or most, Peter and Edward dominating their respective fights. Everyone's movements are growing steadily more stiff as their muscles show their fatigue. My match with Al was short and uneventful, with a couple hits and him hitting the ground. It's obvious at this point that he is throwing his matches, but Eric and Four don't seem to care and so I finish and wander back to observe the others. The remainder of the evening is fairly calm, though for a moment I contemplate going to the tattoo parlor and getting something, but ultimately decide against doing something to add even more soreness. And ideally there will be plenty of time for me to get whatever I want in the future, once initiation is complete.
Instead, the excitement comes once most of us have settled down for the meager amount of sleep we get. The door slams open and people are streaming in and lights are dancing across the room as flashlights are roving around and we all begin to sit up, grumbling coming from several of the beds as their occupants are roused.
"Everybody up!" is called out and Eric struts to the center of the room and is looking around with a flashlight in hand. He is surrounded by a crowd of other Dauntless including Four, who looks bored. The call to action seems to trigger a response and most of us quickly get out of bed and begin to get ready. Eric snaps something at Tris and has a standoff with Christina who is barely dressed in anything. I have already dressed in the clothes I had laid out for tomorrow, and lace my shoes and head to the door, some of the Dauntless watching as I am the first one ready.
Eric calls out a five minute warning and instructions to head to the tracks. I turn and head off immediately, taking a couple bouncing steps to try and stretch and warm up my legs before taking a slow jog toward the tracks. Steps echo behind me as others make their way. Some of the older Dauntless catch up and one knocks my shoulder with theirs and each has a wide grin on their face.
"You excited initiate?"
"I'm not really sure what is happening, but I guess I'm excited enough," I offer with a shrug. The others' grins grow even wider and they exchange a look over my head.
"Oh it'll be fun, trust me on that," the first one says.
"Just make sure you're on the right team," the other offers as we reach the tracks. A glance back shows the other initiates, some Dauntless-born based on their posture and appearance, are shoving their way to the front. Eric and Four both make their way to the front of the group, and Eric checks for the train's arrival. Shortly after he is given an answer, the ground rumbles and the light of the train makes its way around the corner and headed our way. The group moves as one, running to build momentum for the leap to the train. As more people make it, they turn and offer assistance to those behind. When I jump, my feet plant firmly in the doorway, but the wind gusts mixing with the air around the train pull me back slightly. A panic immediately fills me as I feel my weight shift back, but before I can formulate a thought to try and save the situation, a hand grabs my upper arm and pulls me into the train.
"Thank you," it is a near whisper as I try and handle the adrenaline and stress and when I look up, Eric simply offers a nod and heads off to the center of the train car. Taking deep breaths to calm my heart as it tries to beat out of my body, I wander over to a far corner and close my eyes and more people file in. Excitement is buzzing around the group and the chatter is somehow quiet and yet oppressing. It takes only moments for the final person to make their way into the car and Four is the one to speak while Eric stands silently beside him.
"We are going to be splitting into two team for a game of capture the flag. It will be a mixture of transfer, Dauntless-born, and members. There are an odd number of transfers, but since they are the least experienced, it was decided it wouldn't make too much of a difference. We can decide who gets the extra when we get to that point."
There are a few more rules, some questions about rewards which are vaguely avoided before Eric cuts in.
"Four and I are captains and will be picking first. Transfers first?" he asks, to which Four gestures for him to make a choice. Eric offers a responding shrug.
"Edward." It's a smart choice. Of all of us, he has the most combat training and it would be reasonable to think he likely has the best tactics. Four thinks for a moment, but when he gives his first choice the response is a mixture of shock and amusement.
"I want the Stiff."
Tris and I glance at each other. She is standing opposite me at the other rear corner of the car. There are mumbles and giggles around us, and a couple of confused glances. However, it seems fairly clear which of us Four is referring to. Eric still chooses to clarify, a sharp look in his eyes.
"You're going to have to be a bit more specific than that. Which one?"
"Only one of them responds to Stiff."
More laughter rings out and Tris's cheeks color and I sink back into my corner, sparing a glance in Four's direction. It is frustrating. Because I can't bring myself to be angry, because clearly he has paid attention to the distance I have put between myself and my old faction, more than the others. And while he knows why, he had every chance to make a joke, but instead he points out that lack of association, and when he looks down and meets my stare, I can only bring myself to offer a nod of thanks. It is returned, but a glance to the side shows Eric watching our interaction closely with yet more unreadable motive and conclusions on his face. He plasters on a tight smirk when the attention returns to the two captains.
"You just looking for someone to blame when you lose?"
Four offers a shrug and a noncommittal answer.
Eric takes longer for his second choice, and a buzz begins to build again, and glints of light show what may be people placing bets are who is chosen next.
"Peter."
It is a smart choice, once again Eric chooses someone skilled in combat, but instead of choosing for tactics, he has selected for pure ruthless aggression.
"Christina."
Four's choice however, shows some foresight, even though he makes his selection faster than Eric. And looking at the relaxed expression on his face, I think Four already has his team completely selected. So long as Eric doesn't select one of his choices. But Four also has likely taken Eric's likely choices into account.
"Kat."
Four's jaw immediately tightens and it is hard to tell if he had hoped to chose me next, or if he is just upset that I am on Eric's team in general. Eric's expression is far more open, and there is a mixture of confidence in his choices, as well as gloating over having finally gotten under Four's skin. The hungry grin he shoots me does little to clarify.
"Will."
"Molly."
"Drew."
"Al. Which leaves the last transfer. You have the Stiff, so you take the extra. You're gonna need all the help you can get."
Laughter rings through the car again and Four offers yet another shrug before they move through their selection of Dauntless-born initiates. As I glance through the teams and try and formulate some sort of strategy, I lock eyes with Tris an find her doing the same. And for a moment, we simply watch each other and for the first time, I realize that I may have been underestimating her. It is almost visible just how quickly her mind is racing, and with the quick thinking and innovation of the other members of her team, I come to the realization that Four didn't make a team for a game. Four created a functional machine.
Eric and Four argue about order before settling on Four's team getting off first. They all rise and make their way to the doorway, waiting to leap off. Tris glances back at the odd one out of their crew, Al, who looks distressed to be separated from his friends and thrown to the wolves. I start to make my way over to Eric, when I realize that Four is still standing near him and the two are arguing in lowered voices.
"You can have Drew and Myra for just one of your initiates."
"Absolutely not," Eric bites back, a smug tilt to his mouth.
"It will give you an advantage."
"No, it won't." Eric draws out the "no" before glancing to the side where I have approached. Four looks at me and the discomfort is all over his posture and expression. He seems to contemplate arguing further before deciding it isn't worth his time and turning back to the doorway with a disgruntled sigh. The entire team quickly leaps off, and while there is still some chatter among those who remain, the noise is greatly reduced.
"I'm hoping you have a strategy in mind," I mutter. It isn't until I have said the words that I realize how disrespectful it sounds, and to not only my captain but a leader of Dauntless. But my fears are extinguished when Eric barks out a laugh which draws the attention of a few people near us.
"Yeah, we win."
"You're going to need something better than that."
He turns to look at me then, but he looks down and once again I am reminded that I am at the bottom of the chain of command here. I hold no authority and bold statements like that are not earning me any favors. But yet again Eric seems to overlook my lapse in judgement.
"And what exactly makes you say that, initiate?"
This time I take a moment to think, and try and formulate my thoughts in a way that seems less like a challenge. While I know we need to strategize to a level that feels a little advanced for the people around me, I also don't want to start an argument. We simply don't have the time.
"Four selected his team carefully. And I would be willing to bet that their plan will be something completely outside of your realm of contemplation. He selected for speed, agility, and wit. Meaning he picked a team that can cut through this one without much loss."
Eric's face loses some of the humor and the others start to come closer, listening. The members stay farther back and some look disinterested in listening to some initiate, but they are watching Eric for his reaction. The ones who are closest are the other transfers, with a few Dauntless-born scattered through.
"You know well enough that Four has probably already anticipated what you want to do. I'm fairly sure he anticipated your team selection before this whole event began."
That seems to strike a nerve, and there is obvious irritation now on Eric's face. His jaw clenches and he closes his eyes for a moment before taking a breath.
"So what are you suggesting, oh wise one?"
This is met with the same demeaning laughter from Tris's selection. My face burns, and my chest it tight with the reality that I don't have a grand plan yet. But to admit that would be admitting that while I was pointing out some valid points, I have nothing to offer.
"We have to come up with a proper strategy," Edward cuts in. And when I look at him, the relief must be obvious on my face from the nod he offers. The groups turns their attention to him now.
"This isn't a simple game," he continues, "this is a proper combat simulation. We are armed, we have something to protect, and the other team is going to come at us without hesitation and with the intention to win. So we think of this like combat."
When he finishes, he is looking at Eric. The rest of the group soon follows suit and there is silence as we all wait for his response. He seems to chew on the inside of his cheek while studying us. Without a word he makes his way over to the doorway and jumps out without hesitation. Soon the adult members are following suit. The other initiates and I spare glances at each other before rushing to follow, blindly jumping after those before us. When we land, the group is already jogging ahead and so we continue to follow and the silence is unbroken. After a while we make it to a line of trees and some of the members to the front are discussing something with Eric. After a short while of running we enter a clearing that resembles a park and Eric comes to a stop, tying the flag to a tree branch. He turns and looks at the rest of us, though he doesn't say anything. After we sit in silence and watch him for a moment, he only turns to speak to one of the other members.
The other initiates and I are looking at each other, and some of the other Dauntless-born initiates are muttering to themselves. I slowly approach Edward who is standing to the outskirts of the group. He gives me a puzzled look as I come near.
"Thank you for earlier," I mutter. A small smile pulls at the corners of his mouth, though the amusement doesn't quite make it to his eyes.
"You had a point. And I didn't feel like seeing you get ripped apart by the older members of the team for speaking out of turn or whatever."
"Yeah, it was a gutsy move," a louder voice calls from behind and Molly is standing next to Peter. It is mildly surprising to hear her speak without being prompted by Peter first. But for once Peter looks startled that she is speaking.
"Too bad you didn't actually have a plan to go with it. Instead it was just brainless posturing. You really think you're better than us Stiff?"
And as much as the jab at my intelligence or her correct attack on my lapse of judgement should be what upsets me, I instead find myself bristling at being referred to as "Stiff". I find myself bristling, a snarling sound ripping from my throat. My body tightens, as if drawn up by a string, and I find myself making my way towards Molly, who watches with a lazy and smug expression. Peter looks nervous beside her, something that seems abnormal for him, as he tries to say something to her.
"I thought it was made very clear on the train," she seems surprised at the tone of my voice, which is somehow dead compared to the obvious fury I feel, "that I don't go by 'Stiff'. And of all the people to call me brainless, it is rather rich to be coming from the one initiate who seems incapable of realizing exactly when she should keep her mouth shut around someone her own size."
A hand lands on my shoulder and grabs with a tight grip. The mild pain and discomfort cause me to stop, and when I glance back I find Eric looking at me with an empty expression. The other people behind him have a variety of expressions. Some look amused at the fight between what they likely view as children. Others seem uncomfortable, and some seem bored.
"Enough. I thought you said we should use our time to strategize. Or have you forgotten why we are here?"
His voice is controlled and neutral. And while the reprimand is mild compared to what I would expect from Eric, I still find myself ducking my head. His grip tightens slightly more and I look up, but this time he is looking past me and addressing Molly, whose expression looks somehow even more self-righteous.
"And you," he starts and the clear disdain in his voice has her expression twisting to confusion, "shouldn't look smug. You haven't won anything. She had a point. Don't speak unless you can actually back up your jab. Instead you just look like a pitiful coward."
Molly starts to mutter out some rebuttal but Peter elbows her and tells her to be quiet while Eric releases my shoulder and walks away. Some of the other members start to approach him again but he waves them off.
"Initiate, a word." The group as a whole looks up, but I know that he is referring to me, and so I follow silently as we make our way to the edge of the group.
"Quil," he calls out over his shoulder and a members makes a sound of attention, "serve as guard and keep an eye out until we can get started."
When we are away from the group and at the edge of the trees, Eric finally turns to look as me. I continue to stare at the ground, waiting for the coming reprimand. At least he offered me the decency of having some privacy while I am reminded of my failure. And a small, twisted part in the back of my mind reminds me that Eric is unlikely to anything that could even compare to what I left behind. But when Eric speaks, he sounds far more subdued, or even gentle, than I would imagine.
"You would do well to watch yourself. You are causing quite the ruckus." I look up and his expression is still unreadable, but at least there isn't the anger that I had anticipated.
"You and Four," he starts, "seem to know each other quite well. What exactly is that about?"
This is not the conversation I imagined this to be in the slightest.
"What exactly do you mean?" Irritation flashes in Eric's eyes and I realize that I'm not going to find an easy way to evade this.
"You know exactly what I mean, don't play dumb. I thought you just said you don't appreciate being called stupid. The two of you know each other, well enough to anticipate and read the other. We both know that he watches you more closely than several of your fellow transfers. I want to know why."
"What all do you know about Four's transfer?"
The question seems to catch him off-guard. He hesitates in answering, and he turns is head slightly, much like an animal does when asked a question.
"I would say a fair bit. We were in the same initiate group. What does that have to do with it?"
"Then you know that Four and I come from the same faction. We knew each other from Abnegation."
But I can tell that Eric doesn't completely believe me. And for once, I realize that there is someone who can see past my vague answers and read when I am lying.
"I think there is more to it than that."
"Maybe. But I'd rather not discuss it now. Eventually maybe, but it doesn't matter. All that matters, is that I am fairly good at knowing how he thinks. We had the same teacher, regardless of how different we turned out in the end."
Eric doesn't give an answer for a while, instead observing. It reminds me of the Erudite, when they are reading a good book or looking at a complex graph. And after a moment, I am struck with the realization that Eric's expression is too close to that.
"You're from Erudite."
His eyes widen, and his head jerks back slightly and the absolute bewilderment that is so open in his expression almost breaks me from the sheer surprise of the realization.
"How- actually, nevermind. Just tell me what you think Four would anticipate us doing."
"I think it might be best discussed with the others. Edward is good at strategizing, as are the other members I would imagine. But it's your choice"
I add the last part after a second, remembering to defer to his authority. It seems to earn some favor as Eric nods and leads us back to the group. The others notice our return and watch. Eric turns to me without a word and gives me a nod to begin speaking.
"Four will expect us to go on the offensive I believe, as that would follow Eric's more aggressive nature. The other team will likely try and formulate a defensive strategy. But that also depends on whether Four is taking command. If he defers to someone else, there is no telling what will happen. But I doubt it will be a forward or obvious attack. We need to be on guard, and pay attention to all sides."
At first there is little response, but eventually some of the others nod their heads.
"It makes sense," one of the members responds, the one Eric called Quil, "if anything we should focus the least on defending a direct attack and instead watch the back and sides. But we can't prepare for everything."
As he finishes that, a loud groaning cuts through. A metallic screeching is mixed with the sound and our entire group begins glancing around, startled.
"What on Earth was that?" Someone asks, and others echo the question.
Eric looks higher than the rest of us and a laugh rumbles from his chest.
"The Ferris Wheel. Seems like Four found himself a scoping spot. That means his team will be here soon. Get into a defensive formation. Transfers, pick someone and follow their direction. Zhiva, stay with the flag."
A short girl with purple cropped hair nods and walks over to the flag and places herself underneath with her paintball gun propped on her leg. The others split off, each taking one of the transfers and some of the Dauntless-born follow along and offer tips and guidance. Peter turns to Eric, as if expecting to be chosen while I glance at Quil, but I find Eric grabbing my arm and pulling me to the right side of the clearing. I glance back and find Quil calling for Peter to follow him to the front of the clearing to defend against the main entrance with a few others. Turning back to Eric, he leads us to a tree and begins to climb, jerking his head for me to copy of the other side.
"This is your plan, so you help with enacting it. Trust the others to follow your lead and fill in the gaps."
"This is hardly my plan," I grab a branch wrong and wince, "I simply offered some insight."
"Take credit where you can," is all he offers.
"And don't think our conversation from earlier is over. I expect answers."
I choose not to respond to this, but I am sure he is aware that he has the authority to ensure he gets the answers he is looking for. All I know is that I dread that moment. When we each find a branch, the entire clearing is silent, but a quick survey shows everyone ready, guns aimed and heads swiveling to watch for any disturbance.
We don't have to wait long before a cry from the front of the clearing signals the start, and things quickly turn to chaos. A small group comes from the front and are being engaged by Quil, Peter and the others. Some across the clearing from us are trying to fire, but there seems to be a split between firing at those still at the front, and firing down at something below.
I turn around, trying to listen for someone near Eric and I, but the noise and distraction of the clearing makes it hard to focus. I finally notice a slight movement below and behind us and I shift my aim behind and try and locate who is there and Eric notices and follows. I finally see eyes that catch some light through the trees and aim just below them and fire, just as someone else nearby fires up at us from the clearing. My hit makes it mark as the one from the clearing hits Eric. I turn around and watch an initiate fire at Zhiva. I instead aim at him, and while my shot hits, I see Christina and Tris reach the flag at the same time. There seems to be just a moment of conflict, as if they can't decide who should get the flag, but before I can aim, Christina rips the flag down and the cheers of Four's team fill the clearing.
Glancing to the side, Eric is still staring behind us and his expression is furious. When I look back I find Four standing up from behind the bush, a bright yellow smear across his stomach. And while there is a light wince, he looks smug when he meets Eric's look. And I have never felt the tension between the two so high. And as Eric jumps down from the tree, a height that is arguably too high to safely jump down, I worry that he might attack Four, but instead the two just stand facing each other as I climb down and look between the two. Four waits for a moment, but eventually goes to walk past. But when he reaches us, Eric grabs his arm and stops him.
"Watch yourself Four."
And without a word the two separate and Eric storms off to the train. Four stops yet again and turns to me, saying nothing. Looking after Eric, I wait before I turn to Four and give a curt nod.
"Congrats on your win."
"Tris came up with the plan." While I should be surprised, the statement instead feels like it makes sense. Already there is something odd between those two. While Eric noticed that Four pays attention to me, I am realizing that I am not the only one to have Four's attention. And while I know why Four has interest in how I do, his intention with Tris is unclear. All I can tell is she is appearing more intriguing than I initially gave her credit for.
"Then offer her my congrats, it was a good plan," I say as I turn to follow Eric. Four offers a nod and continues to his team. I jog through the woods and try and find the others that are undoubtably following Eric to the train, not wanting to be near the other team as they celebrate their victory. I catch up near the outer edge of the woods as some of the others are approaching Eric but again he brushes them off with a growling reprimand and they all walk at a distance. Some of the initiates are as far from the group as possible and look either furious or crushed. And I can't help the crushing tightness in my chest. Even with my so-called insight into the other team, they still outsmarted us.
After a moment of hesitation, I approach Eric, an apology on my lips but when I get close and see his stormy expression, I let the words die. When he glances at me, it seems like he might tell me to back off like the others, who are watching my approach with hesitance, but when I say nothing he just continues without breaking the silence, even upon reaching the train tracks. When the other team joins us at the tracks, the groups are still mostly split, though some of the members from the two teams mingle. Some of the Dauntless-born initiates also share quiet conversations, but mostly the two groups are split. When the train arrives, the boarding continues the split and Eric continues his brooding in the corner and I follow quietly. As more people watch their reactions are either nervousness at my following the volatile leader, or subdued interest that I am even allowed to follow. When we are near the compound, Eric finally leans his head back against the wall, though there is still nearly tangible anger radiating off of him. I come to realize that if I am going to say anything, now is the moment, but when I take a breath to speak Eric cuts me off.
"Don't."
My jaw snaps shut and I look at him, watching. He doesn't offer another word until the compound can be seen slightly through the door and people are making their way to the doorway to jump off.
"Apologies are worthless."
And again silence hangs until I am following him to the doorway after several others have leapt off.
"Just promise me," he says it so quietly that I have to take a step up beside him to hear him over the roar of the wind, "that the next chance we have, you'll help me destroy whoever is in the way."
And I can only nod as we jump down. Eric gives a nod in return and heads in without waiting. I am startled enough, and confused enough that I hesitate before following the crowd in, pondering what on earth I just agreed to.
Howdy y'all! So I will say, I had to pull some lines directly from the book, simply because there weren't great ways to reword them, but I do try not to take directly a lot of the time, purely because I feel weird doing so. And while I change certain things to fit this plot, such as the behavior of certain characters, I am doing my best to not change large plot points. As such, I was not about to have Kat win just because she is the MC. Four picked a better team, but I also wanted to give Kat and Edward a moment to show they have working brains since Tris does kind of make it seem like Eric's team only had one brain cell. Also I will admit that this chapter was somewhat hard to write purely because the premise is somewhat odd, and the Ferris Wheel scene from the book takes up a huge part of the chapter and it just flat out isn't here. So I am sorry this chapter may be a little boring!
Also as a heads up, in case it isn't obvious by now, there are some really sensitive topics, especially surrounding the Eaton family, but I don't want to be too explicit. I have gotten a bit close before, but I don't want to make people too uncomfortable, and I just want to let people know that the level of detail given before is as explicit as it will get. Also, I may smidge the ages a bit, to make things less… Problematic? Because I believe that Four and Eric are supposed to be 18 and Tris and her fellow initiates are 16. And while this is a dystopia, I still don't want there to be an issue with age, so we might shift things up by a couple years where the initiates are 18 and Eric and Four are 20. It doesn't change much (two years really doesn't change a person that much), but for the sake of our frame of reference, the independence and self-authority is more, shall we say, acceptable? Regardless, I just figured this might be helpful for future reference! Thanks for reading, I hope you all are doing great! Stay Fierce!
~ ChildofLupus