Keeping Dauntless Company

June was named for the intensity and heat she brings, Jaws was named for how he constantly spoke no matter the time, and Mercy was named after her compassion. The three were best friends, until the factions shattered under their feet. With nowhere to go, they ran to the Fringe to find a home. That is, until the secrets, the fear, and the rest of the world started to get to them. How long does it take, before the former dauntless teenagers collapse under the weight of the real world?


5. June

I knew Mercy was hiding something, on top of the fact that she was a bad liar, she also had that look on her face that told me there was something going on. I just played along with it, and knew I'd just look around the tent when she was fast asleep.

Jaws looked as if he had been through war, so I told him to sleep and I'd take first watch. It wasn't very late, maybe five at night? However, the crooks and murderers came out around six, so we always would flee to our tent before that.

I didn't mind taking first watch, I actually quite enjoyed it. I got to watch the people of the Fringe slink away and lock themselves inside with their cautious frowns wrinkling their faces. There was something about that which just fascinated me.

People were animals in denial. They walked as if they were something more than the average mutt. When, they really weren't. People believed that just because they could speak and walk on two legs, they deserved to be treated as royalty, even from other people. It always amused me to watch the people of the Fringe because that was how they acted. As if they didn't understand why they were put in such terrible living conditions. Like the world should be paying them for breathing it's oxygen, and not be casting them out into a dirty used-to-be-city.

I let out a long breath, and watched the cloud form in front of my numb face. It was early fall, which meant it was getting to be colder every passing day. I worried for Jaws and Mercy, knowing they wouldn't survive if it was going to be a cold winter. They were each too small, and had no common sense.

I was just about to go find whatever Mercy was trying to hide from me when a gun shot echoed across the Fringe. My legs immediately found their way under me and I stayed crouched for what felt like an eternity.

Gunshots were not foreign to the Fringe, but this gunshot was different. Usually, the guns the people in the Fringe used were old, and slow. However, this one sounded louder than most, and echoed longer than the usual Fringe weapon would.

Before coming to the Fringe, I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference between gunshots. Even though I was a natural- born dauntless member, I didn't have complete knowledge of guns. If someone handed me a knife, I could tell them all about it. Where it was made, what the handle was made out of, where the best spot of the body would be to insert that specific knife. I just didn't like guns.

Kills with a gun just seemed so cold, like I was shooting a rock, not a person. An actual, living, breathing, human being with a family. Knifes seemed more personal, where someone would actually take the time to approach the person, and be close enough to hear their final words if they had any. To let them close their life off, and be at peace. Maybe I was crazy, but I always called it compassion.

I slowly stood, straightening my legs, and started towards where the gun had been fired. Something was calling me there, and I really hoped when I arrived, my curiosity wouldn't cost me my life.

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