Daunted

It takes twenty minutes before the rest of the initiates have jumped from the ledge of the roof. Once we are all on solid ground again, Eric jumps after us. He does it with such experienced grace, like he has done it a thousand times. Maybe he has; he doesn’t even need the other Dauntless man to help get him off the net. He simply rolls off in one swift movement and lands smoothly on his feet.

We branch off after that; the Dauntless-born follow a woman named Lauren, while the transfers are told to stay with the man who helped everyone out of the net. I learn that his name is Four, and though that hardly sounds like much of a name to me, I don’t dare ask why he calls himself that.

The majority of initiates were Dauntless-born, so our group is much smaller without them. There are merely 8 transfers; I am the only one from Amity now, since the other was left behind on the overpass. There is no one from Abnegation, which surprises me. I had thought that selflessness required the most courage of all.

Four leads us through the tunnels, moving swiftly and decisively. He doesn’t speak to us until he comes to a stop outside a set of double doors, turning to face us. “We’re about to go into the Pit; it’s the center of life here at Dauntless. You’ll learn to love it,” he says, though he doesn’t sound too concerned over how we feel about it.

The Pit turns out to be rather suitably named. We stand above it near the set of stairs leading down to the ground, giving us a bird’s-eye view of everything. Dauntless members are scattered about inside a large – well, pit – in the middle of the compound. Some are talking, some are sparring, some are perhaps genuinely fighting. No one seems to care about the latter, and I wonder if that is a regular occurrence here. The light comes in through a glass roof, which gives a view of the buildings around us. Loud music echoes through the room, and I tap my hand against my leg in time with the beat.

“The Pit? Nice name for the place,” James scoffs behind me, and I bury a chuckle in my palm. It’s not that what James said is all that funny; it’s just strange to me. Amity is all open meadows and warm apple orchards. Dauntless is cold rock and dark caves, and the center of activity here is an aptly named pit in the ground. And yet, despite the oddity of it all, I find myself wanting to run down the stairs and join them. The thought of being able to roam these halls on my own makes me feel giddy.

Four doesn’t linger here; he quickly moves on to lead us through another set of tunnels. The walls around us start to grow darker, shinier – almost wet-looking. I realize why when we step out on the ledge of the tunnel, held back by a long iron railing. I peer over the ledge and see a wild-looking river crashing against the rock of the walls about 25 feet below.

“This is the chasm,” Four explains, his tone more severe now. “It reminds us of the difference between bravery and stupidity. People have tried to pull idiotic stunts here, and they have died doing so. You’d do best not to follow their lead.”

Four takes us back the way we came through the Pit, but this time he leads us into another room – the dining hall. He tells us to go eat, and that we will be taken to our dormitory and given our Dauntless clothes once we have finished. I feel a rush of excitement as well as sadness at the thought of giving up my Amity colours, but I focus all my attention on the thought of food. My stomach aches with hunger, as though it has been days since I last ate instead of just hours. The transfers all break up into groups, all trying to sit together rather than having to sit next to a full-fledged Dauntless. I finally find James, but my stomach sinks with disappointment as I realized that there are no empty seats around him. I will have to sit alone.

I shuffle awkwardly through the rows of tables, searching for an empty seat with a clean plate in front of it. When I find one, though, I almost wish I hadn’t seen it. It is next to Eric, and I am certain that’s the only reason it’s still available. I contemplate moving past, like I hadn’t seen it, but that would be cowardly of me, and I will not be a coward. I am Dauntless.

Taking a deep breath, I sit down in the open seat and pull the plate closer to me. Eric doesn’t turn around at first, and I feel a weight lift off my chest. I start to reach for the bowls of food in front of me, scooping out large portions onto my plate in an attempt to try everything.

Eric finally turns in my direction just as I start eating, and I don’t miss the way his expression hardens as he notices me. His eyes linger on me a few moments longer, eyes cold and calculating like I am nothing more than a mathematical problem for him to solve, before he turns back to his food. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and reach for my water, emptying my cup in one gulp.

For a few moments I sit perfectly still, afraid to even pick up my fork for fear of him glancing my way again. I quickly realize that this is ridiculous; I have jumped off a building today. I can handle a leader of my own faction.

“When will we find out more about initiation?” I ask Eric, putting all my effort into making my voice sound confident and even.

Eric doesn’t look up when he replies. “I don’t think you need to worry about that,” he replies, not missing a beat.

I squeeze my hands into fists at my side, fingernails biting into my palms. “And why not?” I ask, though I’m not sure I want to know.

“You may have chosen to leave Amity, but I can already tell you’re a Softie to the core. You won’t make it through the first week,” Eric says, finally turning to meet my gaze. I can’t help but immediately lean away from him, overpowered by his gaze. I have not been eye-to-eye with him before; it feels like he can see right through me. Suddenly I understand how an entire faction of soldiers would follow his command without question, why the Dauntless-born initiates were afraid of him.

“You’re wrong,” I say, surprised at the strength in my voice.

Eric’s eyebrow quirks up and he drops his fork, letting it land on his plate with a loud clatter. “Is that so?” he says, his lips twitching. I’m reminded of the cats in the meadows – the ones who liked to play with the field mice before actually killing them. “And what do you know about bravery?”

“I know that talking to you was the bravest thing I did today,” I tell him, clenching my jaw. His eyes bore holes into mine, but I do not look away. Looking away means admitting defeat, and I refuse to back down.

He holds my gaze for a few more seconds, sizing me up, before he just laughs quietly to himself and turns back to his food. Though I was not the first to look away, his laughter makes me feel uneasy – like he has something else up his sleeve.

“Initiates, stand!” commands a booming voice, and I look up to see another Dauntless leader standing on a ledge of rock about 15 feet up and leaning against the iron railing. I get to my feet, confused but eager. “Congratulations on joining the faction of the brave – the defence faction. You have taken on the responsibility of defending this city and its inhabitants. Here at Dauntless we believe in ordinary acts of bravery, and the courage that it takes for one person to stand up for another. Don’t let us down.”

All the Dauntless start cheering then, and they join us as they rise to their feet. But they don’t stop there; I feel hands suddenly appear on my back, my shoulders, my legs. I whip my head around, trying to see what’s happening, and suddenly I’m lifted up into the air, being passed around from person to person in the sea of Dauntless. My head falls back against my shoulders and I laugh, loud and free and euphoric. I pass over Eric, but he is still sitting; he does not help carry the initiates. He may feel he is above us all, but I will prove him wrong. I will.



After dinner, Eric is the one who leads the transfers to our dormitory. He walks much faster than Four, and doesn’t stop to look back and make sure we are all with him. Some of the initiates struggle to keep up with him, as the rocky floor is uneven and the tunnel is dark. The only light offered here comes from sparsely-placed bare blue bulbs that cast an eerie glow across the shadowy walls. I wonder how long it will take for my eyes to adjust to the darkness here.

Eric takes a sharp turn through a nearly hidden corridor and through a large wooden door. It opens out into a big room filled with about a dozen rickety-looking beds. There is no divide between the beds and the bathroom area at the other end of the room, and there are no stalls that offer privacy for the showers or toilets. I know all of the transfers have chosen Dauntless, but I wonder who will be brave enough to shower first.

“Wait, is this the girls’ or boys’ dormitory?” asks a wiry Erudite girl.

“Both,” Eric replies. I hear a few boys clap and whistle, while the Erudite girl hunches her shoulders over herself protectively. Eric does not look concerned. “Now, let’s establish a few basic rules. Training is from eight to six every day for the next two weeks. Do not be late. You’ll get an hour for lunch, and after six you’re free to do whatever you like. You’ll also get a rest period between each stage of initiation. I take initiation very seriously, so I’ve volunteered to oversee most your training alongside Four.”

I’m glad to hear Four will be with us. He is quiet, but there is something about him that seems almost kind. It also makes me more comfortable to know that Eric will not be the only one training us.

“You are prohibited from leaving the compound unless you’re accompanied by a Dauntless. This restriction will be lifted if and when you complete initiation.”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘if’?” asks one of the Erudite transfers.

Eric smiles a little, like he has been waiting for this question. “Though you are trained and housed separately from the Dauntless-born initiates, you will be ranked together. Training is intense and comes in three stages; physical, mental, and emotional. You will be marked on each stage, and your final ranking will determine the order in which you select jobs. Every year, those who are too weak to withstand training drop out and leave to become factionless. Additionally, we’re trying out some new rules this year. If a Dauntless leader feels an initiate is not performing well enough, they may be cut.” Eric’s eyes move over the crowd, taking in everyone’s expressions to make sure they understand the severity of what he’s saying.

I feel my blood turn to ice. If my fate here rests in the hands of Eric as a Dauntless leader, then I am already in trouble. I should not have said anything to him over dinner; I should not have given him any reason to single me out.

“Wait, what?” James stammers, and I hear a few other people cry out along with him in protest.

“Hey!” Eric snaps, his voice suddenly so loud and booming that it easily overpowers those of the initiates. Once everyone has quieted – which doesn’t take long – he speaks again, though this time in an even tone. “Most of you have nothing to worry about. Unless, of course, you feel you don’t belong here. In which case, you should never have chosen Dauntless in the first place. Besides, you should consider yourselves lucky; next year, only the top 10 initiates will be made members.”

“Yeah, that makes me feel loads better,” James says sarcastically, so low that only I can hear him. I know I should offer him a small smile to acknowledge what he’s said, but I can’t pull my eyes off Eric.

“Now, you can do whatever you like for the rest of the night. Don’t get lost, don’t piss anyone off, and get some rest. You’ll need your strength for training tomorrow. You’ll find your Dauntless clothes in those chests over there; dig through them until you find something that fits. Bring your old faction clothes with you in the morning; we’ll burn them first thing tomorrow.” And with that, Eric turns and walks out of the dormitory without waiting to see if anyone has any questions.

I find my size quickly enough and start to pull off my Amity clothes next to the bed that I have chosen – one far away from the bathroom area. Changing in front of others doesn’t bother me that much; in Amity, many of our change rooms and bathrooms were communal. However, I have not changed in front of a boy before, so I still turn my back to the rest of the room.

Once I have finished dressing myself in my new Dauntless clothes, I carefully fold the old Amity dress and put it under my pillow. I know I will have to burn it tomorrow, but the thought of sleeping with a small reminder of Amity tonight makes me feel a little better.

Someone taps me on the shoulder, and I whirl around so quickly I crick my neck. James stares at me with a confused look on his face as he sets his old Erudite clothes in the bed next to mine. He looks much different in black than he did in blue; his figure looks stronger, broader, leaner. He already looks like he could pass for a Dauntless. I feel a pang of jealousy.

“Is it okay if I take this bed?” he asks, and hearing his voice snaps me out of my thoughts.

I nod, offering him a small smile. “Yeah, go ahead.”

He settles down on his bed, letting his head fall back against the pillow. He doesn’t close his eyes, though; he just stares up at the ceiling thoughtfully, and I can only imagine how many things must be going through his head. I contemplate doing the same, but just before I sit down I instinctively reach back to brush my long hair out of my face and suddenly stop. I give James a small wave and head out the door, starting down the still-unfamiliar tunnels.

“Hey, wait!” he calls, and I hear running footsteps follow after me. I stop obediently, turning around to face him. “Where are you going?”

“I was just going to go look around,” I fib.

“Well, I’m going with you,” James says decidedly.

“Why? In case I get lost?” I narrow my eyes at him. I am not the tallest or the most muscular of the girls, but I still don’t need anyone looking out for me here.

“No, because I’m going to need all the practice I can get if I’m ever going to figure out how to get around in here. Besides, you look like you’re hiding something, and I want to know what that is.” James has a proud smile on his face, like he feels accomplished at seeing through my lie.

“Are you sure you aren’t a Candor transfer?” I say under my breath, running my fingers through my hair nervously. I know I won’t shake him off, and even though this feels like something I should do alone, I would be glad for his company. “Okay, fine. I’m going to go cut my hair.”

This surprises James. “What? Why?”

“I’m wearing Dauntless clothes, but I still have Amity hair,” I point out. Amity girls often grow their hair out long; my own hair falls in loose waves down to my hips. I can count on one hand the haircuts I’ve had in my life.

James nods, understanding immediately. “Okay, let’s go,” he says without hesitation. I feel bad for not trusting him sooner. I hadn’t expected him to know how I felt.

I link my arm through his instinctively, unsure if anyone does this outside of Amity but feeling better for it all the same. Together we walk through the tunnels of Dauntless, uncertain but determined. I am not Amity to the core. Eric was wrong.