Divergent: Christina's point of view

Chapter Nine!

I wake up to see Will walking with a black shirt in his hand. I don't move from my sleeping position, I just stare at him mezmirized by his movment. The room is quiet, and peacefull for a change, everyone is still asleep. In one quick swift motion he take off his shirt. I stare at his bare shoulders. I'm barley breathing. He then slips on the shirt that he held. I shift to my side, and put my feet on the floor. Will turns around to the sound.

"Good morning," He says in a raspy voice, giving me a grin. Out of the corner of my eye I see Peter shift in his bed, but then he falls back asleep. The last thing I need is for Peter to wake up.

"Ssshhh," I say, pointing to Peter. Will nods. We stare at eachother for a momment, I get up and walk to the bathroom I brush my teeth, and my hair. I fix some eyeliner, and mascara. I walk back, and as I try to silently open my drawer, Peter wakes up. Uucch! great. I think to myself. I take my cloathes, and walk back to the bathroom to change. I wear a pair of black legings, and a black coat zipped up to my throat.

One by one, everyone starts to wake up. I see Al wake up, but next to him Tris is still asleep, I walk over, and shake her shoulder with one hand, and I tap her cheeck with the other.

“Come on,” I say,. “Up and at'em." Tris groans. She still ha black and blue marks all over her body, her cheeks are wet from crying. I offers her my hand. The clock reads eight. We’re supposed to be at the tracks by eight fifteen. “I’ll run and get us some breakfast. You just…get ready. Looks like it might take you a while,” I say. 

I run to the cafetria, and grab to muffins. One for me, and one for Tris. While I'm at the cafetria Al tries to say hi, but I'm to in a ruch to reply. I hurry back to the dormitory.

When I get there I see Tris sitting at the edge of her bed with her shoes on, untied. She looks so pained. I don't even want to see her try, and tie them. She starts to bend over, but I just pass her a muffin and crouch in front of her to tie her shoes.

“Thank you,” Tris says.

“Well, we would never get there on time if you had to tie them yourself,” she says. “Come on. You can eat and walk at the same time, right?” We walk fast toward the Pit. The muffin is banana-flavored, with walnuts.

We climb the steps from the Pit to the glass building above it and run to the exit. We make it to the tracks just as the train arrives, its horn blaring.

“What took you so long?” Will shouts over the horn.

“Stumpy Legs over here turned into an old lady overnight,” I say.

“Oh, shut up.” Tris jokes.

Four stands at the front of the pack, so close to the tracks that if he shifted even an inch forward, the train would take his nose with it. He steps back to let some of the others get on first. Will hoists himself into the car with some difficulty, landing first on his stomach and then dragging his legs in behind him.

Four grabs the handle on the side of the car and pulls himself in smoothly, like he doesn’t have more than six feet of body to work with. Tris jog next to the car, wincing, then grit my teeth and grab the handle on the side. This is going to hurt.  Al grabs her under each arm and lifts her easily into the car. I grab the handel and hoist myself in. I sit next to Tris.

“Feeling okay there?” Peter says, giving her a look of mock sympathy—his lips turned down, his arched eyebrows pulled in. “Or are you a little…Stiff ?”

He bursts into laughter at hi s joke, and Molly and Drew join in. Molly has an ugly laugh, all snorting and shaking shoulders, and Drew’s is silent, so it almost looks like he’s in pain.

“We are all awed by your incredible wit,” says Will.

“Yeah, are you sure you don’t belong with the Erudite, Peter?” I add. “I hear they don’t object to sissies.” Four, standing in the doorway, speaks before Peter can retort.

“Am I going to have to listen to your bickering all the way to the fence?” Everyone gets quiet, and Four turns back to the car’s opening.

“What do you think is out there?” Tris blurts out, she nods to the doorway. “I mean, beyond the fence.”

I shrug. “A bunch of farms, I guess.”

“Yeah, but I mean…past the farms. What are we guarding the city from?” I wiggles my fingers at her.

“Monsters!” She rolls her eyes.

“We didn’t even have guards near the fence until five years ago,” says Will. “Don’t you remember when Dauntless police used to patrol the factionless sector?”

“Yes,” She says.

“Oh, right,” he says. “I bet you saw them all the time.”

“Why do you say t hat?” Tris asks, a little too sharply.

“Because you had to pass the factionless sector to get to school, right?”

“What did you do, memorize a map of the city for fun?” I say.

“Yes,” says Will, looking puzzled. “Didn’t you?”

The train’s brakes squeal, and we all lurch forward as the car slows. The dilapidated buildings are gone, replaced by yellow fields and train tracks. The train stops under an awning. I lower myself to the grass, holding the handle to keep me steady. In front of me is a chain-link fence with barbed wire strung all ong the top. When I walk forward, I notice that it continues farther than I can see, perpendicular to the horizon. Past the fence is a cluster of trees, most of them dead, some green.

Milling around on the other side of the fence are Dauntless guards carrying guns. “Follow me,” says Four. Four lead s us toward the gate, which is as wide as a house and opens up to the cracked road that leads to the city. 

“If you don’t rank in the top five at the end of initiation, you will probably end u p here,” says Four as he reaches the gate. “Once you are a fence guard, there is som e potential for advancement, but not much. You may be able to go on patrols beyond Amity’s farms, but—”

“Patrols for what purpose?” asks Will. Four lifts a shoulder.

“I sup pose you’ll discover that if you find yourself among them. As I was saying. For the most part, those who guard the fence when they are young continue to guard the fence. If it comforts you, some of them insist that it isn’t as bad as it seems.”

“Yeah. At least we won’t be driving buses or cleaning up other people’s messes like the factionless,” I whispers in Tris's ear.

“What rank were you?” Peter asks Four.

“I was first.”

“And you chose to do this?” Peter’s eyes are wide and round and dark green. They would look innocent to me if I didn’t know what a terrible person he is. “Why didn’t you get a government job?”

“I didn’t want one,” Four says flatly.

I remember what he said on the first day, about working in the control room, where the Dauntless monitor the city’s security. It is difficult for me to imagine him there, surrounded by compute rs. To me he belongs in the training room. We learned about faction jobs in school. The Dauntless have limited options. We can guard the fence or work for the security of our city. We can work in the Dauntless compound, drawing tattoos or making weapons or even fighting each other for entertainment. Or we can work for the Dauntless leaders.  We stop next to the gate. A few Dauntless guards glance in our direction but not many.

They are too busy pulling the doors—which are twice as tall as they are and sever all times wider—open to admit a truck. The man driving wears a hat, a beard, and a smile. He stops just inside the gate and gets out. The back of the truck is open, and a few other Amity sit among the stacks of crates. I peer at the crates—they hold apples.

I hate the Amity or at least my old faction did. I have to stop thinking about Candor, because I'm not part of them anymore. I left them when I chose Dauntless.

 When we're done, the Dauntless guards close the gate and lock it behind them. I guess you can say that working there might not be so bad who knows maybe, I'll get some action, but if I realy want to have a good life here in Dauntless, I have to make the top five!