The Unlucky Ones

[13] - Fighting

[Tobias]

AFTER LUNCH, after hearing the initiates speak of their old factions, I lead them to the training room. The room is huge, with a wood floor that is cracked and creaky and has a large circle painted in the middle. On the left wall is a green board--a chalkboard. My Lower Levels teacher used one, but I haven't seen one since then. It's what i will use to write their rankings. Their names are written on the board in alphabetical order. Hanging at three-foot intervals along one end of the room are faded black punching bags.

" Go line up! " I shout.

They line up behind them and I stand in the middle, where they can all see me.

" As I said this morning, " I say, " Next you will learn how to fight. The purpose of this is to prepare you to act; to prepare your body to respond to threats and challenges--which you will need if you intend to survive life as a Dauntless. "

Today is just their first day of initiation. They probably can't even fathom Dauntless life.

" We will go over technique today, and tomorrow you will start to fight each other, " I say. " So I recommend that you pay attention. Those who don't learn fast will get hurt. "

I name a few different punches, demonstrating each one as I go, first against the air and then against the punching bag. Slowly, they each begin to catch on. I start to weave through them, watching each one individually. My knuckles are split from my practice on the bag last night.

Yes, I'm not in initiation anymore, but punching the punching bag relieves any stress or residing anger inside of me. I walk towards Tris. She shakes out her hands, sighing. Our eyes meet and she goes pale. She looks like she'll vomit right here on the floor. My eyes graze over her. My eyes follow her body from head to feet, not lingering anywhere--a practical, scientific gaze.

" You don't have much muscle, " I say, " Which means you're better off using your knees and elbows. You can put more power behind them. "

I reach forward, pressing a hand to her stomach. My fingers are long and narrow. Long enough that the heel of my palm reaches one edge of her ribcage and the tips of my fingers reach the other side. Her heart pounds so hard against my palm. She stares wide-eyed at me.

" Never forget to keep tension here, " I say in a quiet voice.

I lift my hand off of her abdomen and walk to another initiate. My cheeks feel hot. I'm scared that I'll be in trouble for doing that. But I'm not sure. After a couple of hours of practicing, learning technique, and more practice, I dismiss them for dinner. Christina nudges Tris with her elbow.

" I'm surprised he didn't break you in half, " She says.

She wrinkles her nose.

" He scares the hell out of me. It's that quiet voice he uses. " Christina says.

Tris looks over her shoulder, looking at me. I can see it out of my peripheral vision. If I look her dead in the eye, I know it will seem forced and harsh. I don't want her to feel that way around me.

" Yeah. He's... definitely intimidating," She finally says.

They turn, leaving. They're going towards the pit. I sigh, walking to the table. I grab my jacket. Tomorrow they start fighting one another. And I already know some of them won't be able to take a beating this soon. Someone who cries in the privacy of the dorms, keeping the initiates awake when all they want to do is sleep. Someone like Al.

* * * * *

" Alright, " I announce, pulling them out of their grogginess. " Since there is an uneven amount of people, one won't be fighting today. "

I make eye contact with Tris. She's the one who won't be fighting today. She sighs, not because she is upset, but almost as if she is relieved that she won't be fighting someone today. She is one of our smallest initiates. I bet she is relieved to not be fighting someone like Peter or Edward. I would be too if I was as small as she was facing one of those giants.

" This is bad. " Christina says, elbowing Tris in the side.

Tris' body almost collapses in on itself.

" Ow, " Tris responds. " That hurt. "

Her hand wraps around her waist where she was elbowed. Maybe I worked her too hard yesterday. I need to remember that I too was once from Abnegation and hurt after the first day of training. I too should also remember my fight with Eric and how terrified I was. But, in the end, I was the undefeated initiate. Me. The stiff.

" I'm up against the Tank. " Christina says.

At first, I believe that when she says this, she is referring to Peter or Edward. Maybe even Al. But then, when I take a quick glance at the board where I wrote her name, I spot 'Molly' beside it.

" The Tank? " Tris asks, an eyebrow cocked.

Christina nods.

" Yeah, Peter's slightly more feminine-looking minion, " She says, nodding toward the cluster of people on the other side of the room.

Molly is tall like Christina, but that's where the similarities end. She has broad shoulders, bronze skin, and a bulbous nose.

" Those three-- " Christina points at Peter, Drew, and Molly in turn. " Have been inseparable since they crawled out of the womb, practically. I hate them. "

Will and Al stand across from each other in the arena. They put their hands up by their faces to protect themselves, as I taught them, shuffling in a circle around each other. Al is half a foot taller than Will and twice as broad. As I stare at him, I realize that even his facial features are big--big nose, big lips, big eyes. This fight won't last long. I glance at Peter and his friends. Drew is shorter than both Peter and Molly, but he's built like a boulder, and his shoulders are always hunched. His hair is orange-red, the color of an old carrot.

" What's wrong with them? " Tris asks.

Christina shakes her head.

" Peter is pure evil. When we were kids, he would pick fights with people from other factions and then, when an adult came to break it up, he'd cry and make up some story about how the other kid started it. And of course, they believed him, because we were Candor and we couldn't lie. Haha. " Christina replies, wrinkling her nose. " Drew is just his sidekick. I doubt he has an independent thought in his brain. And Molly... she's the kind of person who fries ants with a magnifying glass just to watch them flail around. "