Stronger Than She Looks (Divergent Eric)

{9} Fight club

There was no denying what Eric did helped me.

Training started on the Monday with guns, and as he'd suggested we were all led outside onto a large gravelled rooftop.

I was the first to shoot my weapon, hitting the third ring from the middle. On my second shot, I hit the centre.

My new found ability to throw a knife accurately was just as impressive.

Some of the other Initiates weren't doing so well though. Four had informed us that the final day of weapon training would be used to assess our accuracy and at the end of the day our rankings would be posted for the first time.

Standing around in the training room it's clear everyone is as anxious as I feel. Even Four seems to be on edge, his usual cool detached persona slipping for once. All of the Initiates are already here, but he's clearly waiting for something.

He must be waiting for Eric.

The thought springs to mind at the same time someone pushes the double doors open with a crash and strides into the room. It's him of course.

I should have realised sooner. He must be the leader assigned to overseeing the training process, as apart from the first day on the rooftop when Max met us, no other leader has got involved.

"You get five minutes practice," Eric's voice booms. "Knives are up first. Go!"

Everyone scrambles for the table containing piles of throwing knives, eager to get any advantage they can from this short practice session. I let everyone else grab a set first, before taking some myself and positioning myself in front of a target.

I'm next to Al, an initiate from Candor. He's a big guy. Physically he appears to be the perfect candidate for Dauntless, but you only need to look a little below the surface to see that he's not coping well. Apart from the fact he's falling miserably behind, I've heard him sobbing into his pillow several times in the middle of the night.

My position at the end of the line means I'm closest to Four and Eric. I feel their presence behind me without needing to turn around.

I adjust my position so my feet are hip width apart and I'm facing the target at a slight angle. With a slow deep breath to steady myself I bring my hand back and as I breath out I let the knife fly towards the target.

It hits the centre ring.

I hear footsteps behind me and chancing a glance to my right I see that both Eric and Four have moved on to stand behind Al.

I can't help but look up at Eric's face and I see he's still looking at me. I quickly look away, but not before I see something flash across his face. So quick it's gone before I really have time to register what I'm seeing. Is he proud?

Al isn't so accurate with his throws. He's made slow but steady improvement throughout the week, but now with both Eric and Four watching he's gone to pieces. Out of the five knives he's thrown so far, only two have hit the target and even they are towards the outside of the concentric circles.

As he shakily raises his arm to throw again, Eric steps forward. "Get those knives off the floor."

Al turns towards him, clearly terrified. "W-what?"

"Get the knives." Eric commands, clearly not amused at having to repeat himself.

"Leave him alone." It's like I have no filter with him. Like last time, the words are out before I've considered the repercussions of what I'm saying. I really need to learn to keep my mouth shut.

The room is silent, everyone's heard what I said and I doubt I'll get off so lucky this time. With a confidence I don't feel, I turn to face him to see just how mad he is.