To Try Again | Divergent (DISCONTINUED)

Chapter 11

Tris POV

The next morning, when I trudge into the training room, yawning, a large target stands at one end of the room, and next to the door is a table with knives strewn across it. Knife throwing.

Eric is standing with his back as straight as a metal rod in the middle of the room. "Tomorrow will be the last day of stage one," he says, his voice deeper than normal. "You will resume fighting then. Today, you'll be learning how to aim. Everyone pick of three knives. And pay attention while Four demonstrates the correct technique for throwing them." No one moves. "Now!" Eric's voice booms through the training room.

We all scramble like daggers. The knives are light as I pick them up one by one. It reminds of the time in Candor when I stabbed Eric. He was collecting Divergents and he killed an innocent little boy. The thought makes me sick.

Even this time, I can tell that Eric is taking his loss hard because of the way he glares at Tobias when he isn't looking.

When Tobias is throwing, I don't pay attention on how to do it as I did before. I already know how. Instead, I watch the muscles in his arm as he throws each knife. He is so strong.

I am broken from my gaze by Eric's voice shouting, "Line up!"

I don't want to seem like a professional, so I start by throwing without a knife.

Eric paces to quickly behind us.

"I think the Stiff's taken to many hits to the head!" remarks Peter, a few people down. "Hey Stiff! Remember what a knife is?"

That's it. I pick up a knife and throw it as hard as I can. Dead center. I turn to Peter and smirk. He has his jaw dropped.

"Hey, Peter," I say. "Remember what a target is?"

Half an hour later, and Al still hasn't it the target. I know what's going to happen. Even though he tried to kill me, it hasn't happened yet. I still won't be able to watch him stand there. I'm still going to take his place, but Tobias won't be happy about it.

While we collect our knives from the targets, he searches the floor for his. The next time he tries and misses, Eric walks up behind him. "How slow are you, Candor?" he asks. "Do you need glasses? Should I move the target closer to you?"

Al's cheeks redden, and he throws another knife. It spins and hits the wall.

"What was that?" Eric asks quietly.

I bite my lip. This is just as bad as before.

"It-it slipped," Al replies.

"Well I think you should go get it." Eric scans the rest of us. Everyone has stopped throwing. ""Did I tell you to stop?" Immediately, we all start throwing again.

"Go get it?" Al's eyes are wide. "But everyone's still throwing."

"And?"

"And I don't want to get hit."

"I think you can trust your fellow initiates to aim better than you." Eric smiles his sadistic smile and I inwardly roll my eyes. "Go get your knife."

Al sets his jaw and says, "No."

"Why not?" Eric's beady eyes fix on Al's face. "Are you afraid?"

"Of getting stabbed by an airborne knife? Yes, I am."

"Everyone stop!" Eric shouts. The knives stop and so does all conversation. "Clear out of the ring." he looks at Al. "All except you."