Chapter 2: Jump

Climbing the metal poles that held the platform was easy. Jumping onto the train was easy. Treya had been jumping trains all her life. The trains were the easiest way to quickly move about the city, and was the preferred transportation method by the Dauntless. 

The train was run by the factionless, like all the low level and unwanted jobs in the city. Trash pick up, sanitation, transportation, and similar jobs were all left to the factionless. But unlike faction jobs, these jobs paid in clothes and food. 

As the train clacked quickly through the city, to the outskirts, Treya leaned out the open door, the wind whipping her short brown hair behind her.

“Get ready,” a raspy voice echoed through the train car, followed by murmurs from the initiates as they wondered what was next.

A large body wizzed past Treya and jumped from the car, over the gap between the train and the passing building, and onto its gravel covered roof. A second Dauntless member jumped. 

Treya watched them land, then quickly backed into the car, gave herself a running start, and jumped.

Gravel scritched under her worn out boots as she landed, bending down to her knees to take the shock of her landing up further than her ankles. 

She stood and quickly moved out of the way as more initiates began to land behind her. Turning to her left, the two Dauntless members who had jumped before her were making their way to a third, who was balanced precariously on the edge of the roof.

She followed, and soon the other initiates were making their way to the Dauntless members.

“Listen up,” the balancing Dauntless shouted, his voice deep and laced with subtle malice. He paced the edge of the roof, his black boots quiet as he stepped. In typical Dauntless fashion, he was dressed in all black; black cargo pants that loosely hugged his muscular legs, a long sleeve leather jacket that buttoned up the front, showing the top of a black shirt underneath. Two blocky striped tattoos ran up his throat, stopping under the strong line of his jaw. Hard gray eyes sat atop a long, slender nose, and above his right eye were two piercings, sitting like small dots just above his eyebrow. His hair, long and slicked back on top, with the sides of his head shaved, accentuated his strong, hard features. Add a large, dark black piercing to each earlobe, and he just oozed Dauntless stereotype.

“I’m Eric,” his voice boomed, “I’m one of your leaders. If you want to enter Dauntless, this is the way in.”

Treya glanced from him to the edge of the roof. Another jump no doubt. So far being Dauntless meant a lot of jumping; on trains, off trains, off buildings. Treya could see why all this would intimidate new transferred initiates. They weren’t use to the fearlessness of being Dauntless. But why would a faction ask something dangerous of its initiates, without having some level of precaution. The goal was to train new initiates, not kill them within their first few hours. There had to be something at the bottom to break their fall. A net, water, cushion maybe. They were being asked to face a common fear, the fear of falling from exceptional heights. A Dauntless would do it without hesitation.

“If you don’t have the guts to jump, then you...”

Treya didn’t bother to wait. She ran for the edge, her foot finding it, and launched herself over. She didn’t think twice about the enraged look the Dauntless man gave her as he jumped out of her way. All she thought about now was going down, free falling down through an ominous black hole in the roof of the short building below her. Then the burn of a net across her skin as it caught her, launching her back up a few feet before she came down again. Her body slowly came to rest on the net and she glanced to both sides, her breathing quick with adrenaline. 

To one side was a group of Dauntless members, all clearly surprised to see her. 

She rolled their direction and a strong tanned hand grabbed the edge of the net, holding it steady. She looked up from the hand and into familiar eyes. Evelyn’s son.

Her eyes narrowed and her breathing regulated as she grabbed the edge of the net firmly in both hands, and flipped herself headfirst, over the edge and to the cement floor below. 

The man let go of the net, “It’s Treya, right?”

Treya nodded, glancing in his direction.

“First jumper, Treya,” he called out to the other Dauntless as another initiate came screaming from above.

Treya moved off to the shadows of the dimly lit room, waiting patiently as initiates fell through the ceiling; some crying, most screaming, a few quiet.

When each initiate had finally rolled off the net, the tanned Dauntless man stood before them. He wore similar Dauntless attire as the one from the roof; black cargo pants, long sleeved jacket, boots. His brown hair was short, trimmed in Abnegation fashion, but his body language was all Dauntless. He stood tall, shoulders back, head up, arms crossed over his chest. His thin lips were set in a hard line, his distinguished jawline added a hard shadow across his neck, and his furrowed brow gave him a hard, authoritative gaze.

A short, but muscular Dauntless woman stood at his side. Her dark brown hair was twisted into thick dreadlocks, and the dark makeup she smeared around her eyes gave her a haunting look that only clashed with her small nose and mouth. She smirked, chewing a piece of gum as the two of them looked over the group of initiates.

“Dauntless born go with Lauren, transfers stay with me,” the man nodded towards the dread headed girl.

Initiates quickly hustled to follow the girl to the other side of the room and out a door. When all that remained were transferred initiates and Evelyn’s son, he continued, “I usually work in intelligence, but for the next sixteen weeks, I’ll be your trainer. My name’s Four.”

The sound of shoes scuffing the floor was the only response he received. Since the uprising, he and his girlfriend were pretty well known around the factions. They both played a huge part in both Evelyn’s rise to power and her downfall. And he was her son. Prior to the uprising, he was a Dauntless legend; graduating at the top of his initiate class, turning down a promotion to Dauntless leadership, and only ever having four fears in the Dauntless fear simulation.

Being made up of mostly former Dauntless, the factionless had whispered his name and legend a few times over. 

“This year, with initiates being older, training will be more difficult. You’re capable of handling more, so we’re going to give it to you. During the first stage of training, we will be pushing your bodies to the breaking point. During the second stage, you will be pushed mentally. Again, breaking point. Any questions?”

Again, nothing but shoe scuffs.

“Good. Follow me.”

——

Four led them through the Dauntless compound. There were multiple training rooms, one designated for shooting practice, another for knife throwing. The others were multifunctional, having a center floor mat for hand to hand fighting, with punching bags along the perimeter. The largest training room was left for initiate training. Multiple floor mats were set up, a whole wall of punching bags, weights and weight training equipment in one corner, and empty floor space in another. 

“This is the pit, and the center of life here at Dauntless,” Four announced as they gathered in the last wide, cavernous room.

The roar of rushing water filled the room and Treya’s eyes followed it to the far side, where a large underground waterfall sprayed up, soaking the pathetic excuse for a railing at the edge of the cement floor. 

“Don’t get any stupid ideas. You jump off the edge, you die. No one is that invincible” Four announced.

Treya’s eyes wandered around the pit, taking in the narrow steps along the walls edges, leading from tattoo shop to clothing shop, to weapon shop, and on to more similar shops. She looked up, surprised to find sunlight gleaming through a glass ceiling. 

“Above is where leadership works and stays. You won’t need to worry about anything up there.”

Four led them out of the pit and down a dark secluded hallway. After two more dimly lit hallways, and a flight of stairs, Four led them into a large barrack room, lined with small beds, each having one pillow and matching gray blanket. 

“This is where you’ll be staying for the next sixteen weeks.”

“Boys or girls?” an Erudite transfer asked from behind Treya.

“Both,” Four responded, receiving a few grumbles and snickers, as he led the group to the bathroom.

The bathroom had a wall of shower heads on one side, and a row of toilets on another. There were no stalls or partitions between any of them, in the middle were two trough sinks, back to back with each other.

“Are you kidding?” Another initiate grumbled.

“Here at Dauntless we work as a team. You’ll learn to do that by living as a team,” Four explained. He pointed back to the barracks where a cart with Dauntless issued uniforms were folded. “Get changed and head down to the mess hall for dinner.”

——

“I thought you said she wouldn’t choose Dauntless?” Max wasn’t too happy with the results of the choosing ceremony.

“I said if she was smart, she wouldn’t choose Dauntless. I never said she was smart.” Eric flipped a page in the folder, continuing to read.

“I’d like detailed reports on her training,” Jeanine seemed unfazed by the results, “the goal is to have her succeed. If she does, then it proves that the factionless can be conformed, and therefore controlled.”

Max nodded, listening.

“One girl’s results aren't going to prove anything. You have one compliant. There are thousands of factionless.” Four wasn’t so sure any of this was going to work. He had spent a substantial amount of time around the factionless during the uprising. Not to mention he had a direct relationship to their leader; being her son and all.

“I have one compliant with an outstanding reputation among the factionless,” Jeanine gave Four a stern look, before turning back to Max. “Might I suggest Eric take lead on her training.” It wasn’t a question, nor a suggestion.

“She’s a transfer, therefore she’s part of my group,” Four protested.

“Aw, not looking forward to working together? Partner?” Eric mocked, smirking at Four.

“I agree with Jeanine,” Max interrupted the two’s stare off, “Eric, you will lead Treya Price’s training. This will ensure that she not only undergoes the strictest Dauntless training, but also that there is no favoritism shown. Give Jeanine weekly updates on her progress.”

“Favoritism?” Four nearly cut Max off.

Max turned his gaze to Four, his eyes hardening.

“You are Evelyn’s son, and she is Evelyn’s pet,” Jeanine offered, “one could see where favoritism could be a concern.”

Four’s jaw clenched. He didn’t need Eric around during training. It would only cause tension between the initiates and between him and Four. They never got along, and they weren’t about to start. But Max was consistently up Jeanine’s ass, so he wasn’t too surprised he sided with her decisions and took her word as gold.

——

The mess hall was loud, and full. A Dauntless hoard, larger than Treya had ever seen at a given time, filled the hall. Dauntless members were lined on the far side, with trays of food as they served themselves buffet style. 

Treya followed the other transfer initiates into the line. There were three Erudite boys, snickering with one another, followed by a Candor girl, a set of twin Candor boys, and a third Candor boy. Finally an Amity girl, looking completely terrified.

The food was in mass supply, obviously necessary for so many hungry Dauntless. If seeing so many Dauntless in one place was surprising to Treya, then the mountains of food were even more shocking.

As factionless, Treya was used to sharing a can of beans with up to four or five people; each taking a spoonful at a time. And meals only came once a day. Every once in a while, Edgar would steal food from the Amity fields, or from a train haul, but it wasn’t often since the uprising.

Treya opted for an apple and a slice of bread. Having survived off very little all her life, she wasn’t sure her stomach could handle much more than that, let alone the rich and heavy Dauntless foods.

She looked around the hall before sliding into a seat on the bench opposite Four.

He glanced up at her, then did a double take at her food. “Not a fan of Dauntless food?”

Treya took a bite of her bread before setting it back down. It was heavy bread, and thick. She chewed silently.

“It’ll grow on you.”

A large muscular form stopped at the edge of the table, and Treya glanced up at the man from the roof, Eric, swallowing her mouthful.

“Impressive jump today,” his voice was unamused, one eyebrow arched, pulling at the piercings there. 

When Treya didn’t respond he noted, “not much protein in there,” his head nodded toward her plate.

Treya’s eyes caught Four’s as he studied her, waiting for her answer, “it's enough.”

A loud clang rang through the hall, and the room quieted as Max leaned over the railing from the balcony above them.

“Initiates,” his voice boomed, echoing through the hall, “here at Dauntless, we believe that cowardice is to blame for injustice. We believe that peace is hard-won and that sometimes it is necessary to fight for peace. By choosing Dauntless, you are choosing freedom from fear; freedom from the influence of fear in your decisions. By choosing Dauntless, you are choosing bravery; courage to face your fears and stand up for one another. You are choosing to be bold in your actions; not to act with an empty head or empty hands, without concern for comfort, good manners, or death. You have chosen the warrior faction.”

The room was silent.

“Be brave, initiates. Do us proud.”

At once the Dauntless were on their feet, cheering and clapping the new initiates on the back. 

Treya slipped her apple into her pocket before sliding from the bench and slipping through the hoard and out of the hall.

The Dauntless were really trying to regain control and reputation among the factions. The uprising had split them and damaged their reputation drastically, but they seemed on the upswing; embracing their original manifesto, trying to rid the sour taste they put in the mouths of the other factions. Treya wondered how long they could keep it up.

Apparently the pit is pretty quiet during mealtime. She leaned against the railing, overlooking the chasm. The water mist splashed her boots and the sleeves of her Dauntless-issued training jacket. 

“You’re not going to jump, are you?”

Treya turned to see Four casually walking towards her. He leaned against the railing to her right, waiting for her answer.

“It would be pretty Dauntless to jump.”

Four raised an eyebrow, “depends on your reasons.”

Treya huffed, “Evelyn ask you to keep an eye on me?”

Four turned, leaning back against the railing, “no, quite the opposite. Told me to stay away from you.”

Treya’s eyes narrowed a moment as she pondered his response, then let out a huff again with a slight smile when he added, “said you’d kick my ass.”

The two stood quietly for a minute, Treya looking over the ledge and Four looking away, each lost in thought. Four finally sighed and cautioned, just above a whisper “just be careful here. A lot of Dauntless are still bitter about what happened.”

Treya’s eyes narrowed, and she gave him a dark look. “I thought you were supposed to stay away from me.”

“I’m just trying to warn you to watch your back here. A lot of people wouldn’t be sad if you were found at the bottom of the chasm.”

Treya pushed herself from the railing, giving him a stern look, “I’d like to see them try.” When he tried to retort, she cut him off before he could get a word in, “let’s get one thing straight. Just because you have blood in factionless, doesn’t make us similar. I don’t need your help and certainly not your protection. Unless you are critiquing my training, leave me alone.”

She gave him another warning look before turning to leave, but he reached out, catching her by the wrist. Instinctively she twisted her wrist in his hand, breaking his grasp on her. The punch from her free hand caught him off guard as it collided with his chin. It knocked him off balance and he stumbled back a step, surprise filling his face. 

Most initiates would fear fighting their trainer, but she initiated it. On her first day. Four watched as she stormed away, gently rubbing his chin where he was sure a bruise would form.

——

Treya was already awake and dressed when Four clanged a small metal baton on the metal bed frame. The other initiates woke with a jolt. 

“Get dressed. Training starts in five.” He gave Treya a quick glance before turning and leaving the barracks.

Treya slid from her bed and followed silently. 

When all nine transfer initiates had finally gathered around in the training room, Four paired them up; the small Amity girl with fiery red hair, Jessica, and the slightly taller but quicker Candor girl, Alex. The twin Candor boys, Logan and Oliver, who were equally matched in all ways including looks. Two Erudite boys, Michael, tall and arrogant, with his hair spiked up away from his smirking face, and his just as arrogant friend Nick. Then the last Erudite boy, Stephen, who was a little disgruntled with being paired with Benny, the joking, easygoing Candor.

Four stood in front of Treya, speaking to the rest of the class, but keeping his eyes on Treya, “first rule in fighting, protect your head.” He held his arms up, crossing them one over the other, elbows in front of his face. Treya mirrored his movements. “When your opponent attacks,” he slowly demonstrated a punch to Treya, “block with your elbow.”

She blocked, clonking her elbow to his hand a little harder than necessary. He gave her a sour look. 

“I want you to practice blocking with your elbows and forearms.” He demonstrated with Logan a few times before letting the pairs practice on their own, then leads Treya to a punching bag, “you can practice on the bag, that way you’re not going to hurt someone on a basic blocking exercise.” He seemed annoyed. 

“Four,” Eric growled in his usual annoyed tone, and the two moved off to one side to watch the practice. “She bust your knuckles?”

Four looked down at his hand. Sure enough, one of his knuckles had split from her block.

“She rough up your face too?” Eric cocked an eyebrow, noting the bruise on Four’s chin.

“She’s touchy,” he shook his head.

Eric smirked, “you touching initiates again Four? Is that your thing?” Eric’s eyes darkened as he mocked Four.

Four ignored him. “She’s a loose cannon. Easily set off.”

Eric’s gaze shifted to Treya on the far side of the room. Her blocks were hard, purposeful. She didn’t hold back. “She’s a fighter. Isn’t that what you called her in Max’s office?” He studied her movements.

Four watched her as well. Her body was tense, and she used her weight in her blocks, twisting at her waist, her hands loose, open as she blocked with her forearms. 

Eric glanced around at the other initiates. It was obvious they were new to fighting. They didn’t know how to twist their weight, stay on their toes, and anticipate moves. Michael, the Erudite transfer, looked like he had been in a fight or two, and was quick to catch on, but the only one showing real promise was the factionless girl. It was obvious she knew what she was doing.

In a few large strides, he was behind her. 

She heard him come up behind her, and quickly turned to face him. He was quick to throw a punch, which she blocked with her elbow. He punched again, and she slid to the side, blocking with her forearm and sliding just inside his his arm. She gave a jab to his stomach. When she tried to give him another jab, his left hand swooped down and pushed her arm away, knocking her into his right arm, where he caught her by the throat in its crook. His grip around her throat tightened as she thrashed. He was much stronger, and a whole head taller than her, and he knew how to use that to his advantage. She wiggled her hands up the sides of her neck, under his arm as she twisted and pushed her head down, putting the crook of his arm at her mouth to relieve the pressure from her throat. 

The muscles in his arm were tense, but he allowed her to shift in his arms. His left hand reached up and he tangled his fingers in her hair. He smirked. She was good, definitely knew what she was doing. She thrashed again, but his grip only tightened.

The other initiates had taken notice of the struggle, and were watching with curious eyes.  Four had given up trying to keep them focused, and was watching the pair with arms crossed.

Eric shifted, pulling Treya away from the punching bag, and then turned her sideways so the other initiates could see. He lowered his head, his mouth at her ear as he whispered an amused “What are you going to do now initiate?”

Treya gave a hard stomp to the top of his foot. He growled, but his boot took most of the shock. His mouth was at her ear again, “I’m going to tell you how you’re going to get out of this, so listen carefully.” Her body was tense, but she was listening. “You’re going to move your hands from my arm, and you’re going to reach over your head to my collar.”

Her body went rigid. If she moved her hands, he could crush her throat in his muscular arm.

“Move your right foot back, between mine and lower your stance.” That part she could obey without fear of suffocating. “Good,” his hand left her hair and found her hip bone instead. “When you grab me, you’re going to push your hips back,” he grabbed at her hip hard, pulling her back against him. “It’ll knock me off balance, and you’ll be able to flip me over your head.”

Treya thought fast, his fingers pushed hard into the curve of her hip. He was expecting her to do as she was told. So she wouldn’t. She slid her hands free, but instead of reaching up for him, she shoved the palms of her hands into his arm, simultaneously twisting her head and pulling it down, slipping free from his grasp. She slid out from under him, and quickly stepped away. Her eyes were dark and threatening, her breathing quick now that she could actually breathe. Her hands flew up in front of her face as she prepared for his advance.

His advance never came. A smirk flashed across his face as he gave her a cold, hungry stare. “Or don’t,” he growled. He turned away from her and stopped, “what are you looking at? Get back to work!” He growled angrily at the gawking initiates before glancing back at Treya, “back to the bag initiate.” He nodded in her direction before making his way back to Four. 

“She’s going to need her training advanced,” Eric sneered.

Four shook his head, “basics first.”

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