𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝟎𝟐𝟑

You once admired how they chose to celebrate their dead with something so vibrant and full of life. And in the midst of all the chaos that swarmed you, it was a comfort to know that you too might receive your own funeral fire. Hopefully someday in the distant future. 

Not tonight—not while you still had so much fight left to give.

A group of soldiers with green glowsticks dangling from their necks marched right past you, not noticing the girl clinging to the edge of the oil drum just a few feet away. As soon as the last of them disappeared around a large shipping container, you bolted down the narrow pathway they emerged from.

Blood pumped loud and thick in your eardrums, deafening the sounds of the battle as it raged all around you. Everyone on your team was either off defending the same territory as Four or they'd been shot and were waiting by the train tracks for everything to be over and done with so they could return to their nice warm beds back at base.

You had no idea what you were doing or why you were suddenly so hellbent on covering so much enemy ground on your own. The thick of the fighting seemed to have moved on once more save for the flares that sputtered by your quick-moving feet. For some reason or another, the green team had left their base completely unprotected.

You could have made it all the way to the brick turret—you could have been the one to grab their flag and hoist it over the ledge to declare your team's victory. You could have shut everyone up forever about being an Amityborn and unfit for battle. But instead, you caught wind of a familiar sound that made you slow to a stop in the middle of the empty gravel path.

A wet, shaken gasp echoed from around the corner. You frowned, tilting the nozzle of your rifle to the ground before rounding the side of the wall and spotting the culprit almost immediately. It was hard not to take notice of him even from miles away—Al was by far the biggest guy you knew.

His back was pressed flush against a short crumbling stack of brick but his entire body shook with every broken sob that ripped through him. A single nearby gunshot rang out, making dust and debris fly up around him. Al whimpered at the sound and curled even further in on himself, gun clutched tight to his chest with zero intention of using it to actually defend himself.

You spared a quick glance over your shoulder and spotted the enemy shooter barely concealed behind an overturned generator. Nailing them in the leg was easy work. You didn't see who it was, nor did you really care. All that mattered to you was knocking that smirk clean off of their face. You didn't even stop to admire the way their injured knee twitched sporadically while the dart serum worked through their bloodstream. Instead, you used the split-second of coverage to make your way across the opening to kneel in front of Al's trembling frame.

"Al—Hey, look at me," you snapped, burying your knees in the rubble between his parted legs. He flinched at your volume and you instantly quieted yourself. "It's okay, it's just me. Everything's gonna be okay, I promise."

His entire body was riddled with breath-seizing panic and every exposed inch of his face was drenched in what you could only assume was a briny combination of sweat and tears. With the hand that wasn't resting on the base of your gun, you reached out to gently brush the dark bangs off of his clammy forehead, dragging your palm down to swipe the tears from under his eyes. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Al gulped down lungfuls of air like he was submerged up to his throat in water. "I-I can't...I can't, I can't..." His head shook violently and realizing that this would take more than a few seconds, you glanced around to make sure no one else was coming before lowering your weapon and taking his face in both hands.

"You can. Al, I know you can. You're bigger than anyone else in this field. I need you to pull through this, please. For me."

His pupils quit dancing in the whites of his eyes and his bottom lip wobbled as he leaned into the steady palm of your hand. This alone nearly had you crumpling into a heap right in front of him. You were a complete stranger to the feelings that war brought out in people. Terror, rage, panic—none of these things came to you as commonly as you would soon come to face them in Dauntless.