Rampant: A Divergent FanFiction (Book Two) ©

Chapter 13

                It was no wonder the dauntless-born and the transfers had to be separated during the first stage of initiation. It would’ve been outrageously unfair to the new kids who hadn’t handled weapons or fought a single day in their life.

                The first morning of training I’d had to teach the initiates how to fire a gun. However, the term teach, was used very loosely. Most of them already knew how to shoot, and so most of the day was spent with them merely perfecting their aim. I spent most of the time just walking back and forth behind them, watching to make sure their posture and general stance was good.

                Occasionally, more out of boredom than anything, I’d interject with a small comment or give a tip. At the end of the day though, all the tedium had me feeling like I wanted to run out and beg Banks to let me return to the Cage. I tried to stay optimistic; perhaps the following days wouldn’t drag as much.

                And perhaps Banks is actually a really sweet guy who loves ponies and rainbows; my subconscious added sarcastically.

                As the minutes slowly seeped away, my mind would sporadically wonder what it was that Banks was doing. I worried over the transfer initiates; remembering just how hard of a time Grace had experienced, even Dan and I hadn’t exactly had it easy. Still, even if I wanted to help, that was out of my jurisdiction.

               The following day wasn’t any better.  After spending a couple of hours throwing knives at stationary targets, I was so incredibly tired of the monotony that I knew I had to do something to change things up. It was with that intention that I created a sort of game for the dauntless-born. While we’d broken for lunch, I’d used the time to pick up a couple of items that I was sure would liven things up.

               “Listen up,” I called out. “Not that this target practice isn’t completely riveting, but I have a better idea.”

               “What idea boss?” Wayne asked, his voice sounding excited.

               “You don’t have to call me that,” I said; feeling self-conscious about the title.

               “How about commander?” Felix interjected, playfully giving me a salute.

               “No, none of that,” I said flatly. “As I was saying–”

               “What about chief?” Iris asked with an impish grin.

               “Or sensei?” Shiloh added.

               Normally I would’ve laughed or at least grinned at their jokes, but since I’d made such a big deal about demanding respect, I knew it would be hypocritical of me to let it slide. I scowled at the group, and almost immediately their smiles and laughter vanished. Because I’d had a whole year to practice deception, I’d gotten to be rather good at hiding my emotions. Well at least good enough that someone, not of candor decent, wouldn’t be able to tell what I was really thinking.

               “Unless you’d like to finish up the remainder of the day running laps around the compound, I’d suggest you shut up and listen,” I said firmly, hoping I sounded authoritative.

               When no one said anything I grabbed my old gym bag, unzipped it, and then pulled out a series of Frisbees I’d bought. It took them only a second to sync into my train of thought, but when they did, they were grinning from ear to ear. Hitting a sitting target was easy, but one in motion was a completely different story.