After the fight where I somehow subdued Four, three of the Candor initiates begin starring me down like hawks. Christina explains how Peter, Drew, and Molly are like the devil incarnate and will do anything to win. Since I fought Four, I lucked out of the draw of fighting another initiate.
However, Four seemed a bit miffed about losing to me. My ego was currently taking a ride up the tallest roller coaster. We watched as the other initiates sparred. I kind of hate the entire thing. Having us fight each other feels less like team-building and more like it's encouraging the creation of stupid cliques.
I know those Candors are a group already. Russell and the other Erudites seem to be glued together despite Myra and Edward kissing anytime they can. And then there's us. Me, Christina, Tris, Will, and Al. Three different factions and me. Our faux alliance gives us a greater edge than the other small groups.
Al and Will are up first. Eric pushes them to fight and we all anxiously watch.
Another almost-altercation happens between Four and Eric. Four insists that Al can concede but Eric is adamant that the two fight. I'm 90% sure that Eric is so cutthroat purely from curiosity. His Erudite nature is so obvious to me as he manipulates Four with his power of being a leader.
They fight then. Will seems to have the upper hand until Al grabs a hold of him–knocking Will out with one good hit. Christina grabbed my arm as she gasped, I didn't make a sound. I was too stunned to speak.
I've seen plenty of dead bodies from afar and Will looked so much like one as Al lowered him onto the mat. "Is he alive?" Someone asked and the look on Al's face was heartbreaking.
He pawed at Will's face like a big child, touching his face lightly trying to wake him. It took almost an entire minute for Will to react. He blinks a few times and it seems everyone (save for Eric) sighs in relief.
"Get him up," I glare at his stupid face as he orders Al. He carries Will out of the arena and Four circles Al's name on the chalkboard. I don't think I can watch all of these fights.
Christina has to go up against Molly. I think it's safe to say that I really don't want to see this. Molly is built like a tree, she's tall and somehow all muscle. Christina wasn't joking when she said her opponent was like a feminine Peter. And she's the complete opposite of Molly. Short and petite.
For a while, Christina seems to be holding her own until Molly gets close enough to begin pummeling her. Instead of Christina gripping my arm, I'm squeezing the flesh tightly as a means of stopping myself from intervening. I know I probably won't do it, but the urge to run in and rip Molly off of the closest friend I've made here is so strong.
It takes a lot of beating for Christina to start screaming in pain but when she does it's loud. And Molly never relents. Al comforts Tris as I try my best to hold it together. If only Christina had passed out like Will.
"Stop!" Molly kicks her again–hard. "Stop!" Another strike but Christina puts her hand up, "I'm done, please." There's blood pouring out of her nose, the wound is much worse than mine. At least Four was precise with his attack, Molly was literally kicking a man when they were down. Who knows how many fractures are causing such a flow of blood?
Tris and Al sigh loudly, I don't. My eyes are set on Eric as his eyebrows narrow, even after losing against me he's still trying to torment them? He moves so he's standing above Christina's crumpled form, "I'm sorry, what did you say? You're done?"
She moves into a kneeled position and everything about this screams it's wrong to me. A red handprint is left behind in her wake as she squeezes her nose in an attempt to stop the bleeding.
"Get up." He's quiet and it sets off the alarms in my head. Something bad is going to happen and nobody has any idea what he means when he says, "Follow me." All we can do is follow him.
—
"Climb over it," Eric pushes her against the railing of the chasm. Every hair on my body is upright as she looks at him in confusion. He repeats himself. "If you can hang over the chasm for five minutes, I will forgive your cowardice. If you can't, I will not allow you to continue the initiation."
The reality of her punishment visibly dawns on Christina immediately. It's no more than 30 seconds later when she mutters, "Fine." And climbs over the railing that I swear looks flimsy.
Al has a watch and sets a timer for the five minutes as we watch. Most of us in horror, but I can see the gleam of excitement in the eyes of those three Candors. Goddamn monsters. Christina is doing well for a while–then a wave hits her and slams her already bruised face against the railing.
Her hands slip and now that they're wet, I know she's struggling to hold on for dear life. Another wave hits and I hear her crying. If I help I'm sure to end up where she is but honestly this is worse than the factionless life.
Al begins cheering her on and I stare at him in awe. He's holding the only proof of her lasting so long and when I glance down, it's been four minutes. My heart jumps as he elbows Tris. Soon all three of us are cheering her on.
The fear in their eyes must mirror my own because our voices grow louder and when Christina gets a hold of the railing with both hands again; we shout. But then, just as we're given a sliver of hope that she might last, I see her head disappear and I run forward toward the edge.
I expect to see her body mangled on the rocks but she's still holding on–somehow.
"Five minutes are up!" Al yells and Eric takes his sweet time checking his own watch. I don't hide the irritation in my eyes this time.
"Fine," I want to push him into the chasm for him wasting time, "You can come up, Christina."
I step toward the railing again but he shakes his head, "No, she has to do it on her own."
It's Al who disagrees, "No, she doesn't. She did what you said. She's not a coward. She did what you said." When Eric doesn't answer, Tris, Al, and I all run for Christina.
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