Blurred | Lines

Seven

A chorus of groans rise as the sounds of something banging against the wall sounds out, my eyes flickering open.

I rub the sleep out of them, before sitting up. Eric stares at us with a flashlight illuminating his features.

"What time is it?" Quinn moaned out, yawning.

"0330 hours," Eric replied. "You've got ten minutes to be up, dressed, and by the tracks. The train waits for no one."

My heart thumps with palpitations at the sound of him speaking.

I don't know if was a good thing or a bad thing, but I didn't want to figure it out or pursue it.

Four stands behind Eric, his features barely lit by light. He walks away, I assume to wake the Transfers.

Then it dawns on me, as I see Lauren. "I'm turning you all over to Eric and Four for the exercise. Behave." She says sternly, before walking off.

We were playing Capture the Flag.

Fifteen minutes later, we stand in black uniforms, with a light clipped to the pocket.

The wind whistles throughout the train car, transfers on one side, Dauntless-born on the other.

The Transfers look like a mixture of surprise and exhaustion.  Like they had been drug out of bed.

However, the Dauntless-born smiled widely, from ear to ear, eager for this exercise to begin. There was no way we could lose.

I clasped a gun in one hand, a box of paintballs in the other, lifting the lid.

Inside my box was a mixture of the various colored balls of paint, but scattered in my box was sleek, silver needle-like things.

Eric comes up from behind me, and holds the hand that held the dart, and leans in to speak lowly.

"Neurostem dart. Simulates the real pain of a bullet, just without the gore."

I nod quietly, barely awake. I blink my eyes, still gazing in his direction. I rub my eyes with the palm of my hands, before I yawn.

Eric moves away from me, before he begins to yell. Well, if you weren't awake then, than you were now.

"We're playing Capture the Flag! Two teams, Four and I are captains!" Eric says, arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge out.

I take him in, breathing carefully. I feel the air in my lungs hitch, my chest tightening.

God, he was built.

I feel heated, feverish. I was nowhere near sick.

Unless he was making me sick.

I shake off the heat flowing to my features, as Four begins to speak.

"This is a Dauntless tradition. I suggest you take it seriously. Eric and I will divide you into teams. Then, Eric's team will jump, and mine will follow."

I see a flicker of a glowing material peeking from Eric's pocket. His flag.

I take a breath as Eric nods. "Transfers first. You want to go first?" He questions Four.

Four, in return, shrugs, and nods. "Zella."

Eric picks his lot of Transfers, as does Four. They then begin to do the same with us.

"Quinn," Four starts. Eric casually looks around the room.

"Mason." He picks and he walks over to Eric's side.