The Institution: A Young Adult Dystopian Series (Sacrisvita Book 1)

by Dylan Steel

  A loud crash jerked Sage awake.

  She sat straight up, thumping into the bunk above her. “Ow!” she cried, rubbing the top of her head as she glared accusingly at the bunk.

  “Mroomphf—oof—uggghhhhhh,” said a pile of blankets writhing on the floor a few feet away.

  “SHHHHH!” a sharp, not at all quiet reprimand hissed above them.

  Sage rolled her eyes, still rubbing her head. “Sorry, Marnie. Aura fell out of bed again.”

  “Only a little!” Aura protested, flinging back blankets and staggering to her feet.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to trade spots with me?” Sage offered again.

  “Oh, no, thanks. I just love being on the top bunk.” Aura grinned. “Besides, I don’t fall out that much.”

  Sage snorted. Only about every third night. If she was counting right, that made twenty-three times since Sage had joined them.

  “And anyhow, I’m fine,” she added, wrinkling her nose as she rubbed her tailbone.

  “You really should take her up on it,” another voice said with sleepy irritation.

  Aura sighed. “It can’t be bothering you that much again already, Pippa.”

  Pippa had been back from her Cleansing for a couple days, and in that time, Sage had made an attempt to get to know her in the evening study hours. But Pippa had turned up her nose at Sage and said something about how making friends wouldn’t help Eprah and how her time would best be spent bettering herself so that she could better contribute to Eprah when she grew up. Although hurt, Sage thought it best not to argue.

  From the moment Aura-the-human-alarm-clock had rung, the small room had begun stirring with reluctant activity. This room was a slightly larger version of the one where Sage had spent her Cleansing, but it held three shower heads, three toilets, three sinks, and three triple bunk beds. Fortunately, the toilets and showers were surrounded by curtains, but the privacy stopped there.

  Sage swung her legs over the side of the bed, stretched, and began to make her way to the first shower.

  Thump. Swoosh. Another girl hopped down from bed and hurried past, her black hair smacking Sage in the face as she stepped quite deliberately in front of her into the first shower. Sage clenched her jaw but said nothing, opting instead for the next stall over. Carnabel was always looking for a fight, even first thing in the morning.

  “Do you know what today is?” Aura squealed as she pulled on her uniform.

  “Um, Friday?” Pippa offered unhelpfully.

  “All hail, Pippa’s brilliance!” Carnabel quipped. Pippa’s face reddened.

  “No,” Aura said, ignoring Carnabel. “It’s tour day!”

  “Tour day?” Sage asked.

  “Yeah, they announced it ages ago,” Aura bubbled. “Oh, but that’s right, you might not have been here yet.”

  “Yeah, you were probably back in Fantasy Forest,” Carnabel sneered.

  Sage’s face grew red. She’d kept up the lie since her first day that she had, in fact, been living with rich parents in a home with a tutor. Not in the forest. Not on the outskirts of town. She didn’t know why Carnabel seemed so stuck on that point, but at least everyone else seemed to believe her story.

  “Oh, let it go, Carnabel,” Marnie interjected, bored.

  Marnie seemed to be the only one bold enough to stand up to Carnabel—not that Carnabel ever let it slide. She didn’t even try to hide her sly grin as she opened her mouth.

  “Ooooh, we have a Lawless lover here. Lawless lover, Lawless lover, Lawless lo—”

  Her taunt was cut short. Ms. Pembergast stood in the doorway, hands on hips, looking unamused.

  Ms. Pembergast spent the next twenty minutes lecturing all the girls about proper behavior for all citizens of Eprah. Although she directed most of the criticism at Carnabel, she felt it was something that all the girls needed to hear, so they would just have to be late picking up the boys that morning. By the end of her monologue, it had become unclear whether Carnabel was being chastised or praised for so openly disliking the Lawless.

  The troupe made its way through the labyrinth of hallways, stopping next door first to pick up the boys. They marched up several flights of stairs and crammed into the office where Sage had first received her sentence. Headmaster Alexander greeted them, enthusiastically shaking each child’s hand to welcome them all to the Institution and leaning in closely enough that Sage could smell the spoiled meat he’d eaten that morning. He pontificated about all the contributions that past students had made to Eprah—yes, students who had walked these halls were doing wonderful things.

  She was grateful when they left the office. They made their way back down some stairs and passed by the tall glass doors at the entrance of the building. She caught a glimpse of the outside world for the first time since her parents had died. The grass was beginning to yellow, and the air seemed stale and eerily quiet.

  When they reached the eighth door on the right on the main level of the building, Ms. Pembergast put a finger to her lips before opening the door and ushering them all inside.

  The room had about eighty desks, all of them filled with students. Penelope was seated in the third row, and she looked up and flashed a broad smile at Sage as she entered the room. They shuffled into the back of the room.

  “And a big welcome to today’s tour group,” the man at the front of the room boomed. He looked to be about thirty with disheveled hair and kind eyes that met each child’s own. When his gaze rested on Sage, she thought she saw a flash of recognition, but he had moved along to the next student too quickly for her to be sure.

  “My name is Mr. Walsh,” he said. “And this,” he gestured towards the room of students, “is my Eprah and Ancient Civilizations’ History class.

  “I know none of you are likely to be taking this specific class, but I do teach several levels, so I may see you next year. If you ever have any questions, you’re more than welcome to come talk to me. I have an open door policy and stay way too late after classes are done,” he chuckled.

  “Now, if you don’t mind, we’ll dive back into our lesson,” he continued.

  Sage and the others shifted their weight back and forth as they stood through the end of the lecture. When Mr. Walsh called several students up to the front of the room to answer fill-in-the-blank questions on the screen, Sage thought she caught him looking at her, but then she realized she was being paranoid as he was obviously just curious and inspecting all the new students.

  The class finished quickly, and Ms. Pembergast scuttled them all along to the community dining hall. There was enough space for thousands of children of all ages.

  A group of five-year-olds whisked past the uncertain new group and ran up to a set of low drawers in the wall. They tipped out the drawers and withdrew trays filled with an array of beige edibles and promptly made their way to a cluster of tables. Amazingly, the drawers seemed to replenish themselves each time they were closed and reopened. It was also fortunate that the drawers increased in height along the wall so that the oldest students didn’t have to crouch to access their lunches.

  Ms. Pembergast shouted above the buzz of the room that they should grab their lunches and meet her at the far table where she would be waiting.

  It briefly occurred to Sage that this might be a prime opportunity to run down the hallway and out the front door. With so much activity and so little supervision, she could probably slip out unseen.

  “Hey, kid, thinking of making a break for it?” One of the older students joked as he walked by. His green eyes sparkled with mischief, dark hair bouncing with each step.

  She didn’t realize she’d been rooted in her spot, staring at the exit. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

  “I wouldn’t do it,” he laughed. “Wouldn’t want those zeptobes to jump into action!”

  Sage shook her head. “Of course not. I was just looking for someone,” she lied. That came more easily now. He was right, of course, and she had forgotten all about the zeptobes for
a moment.

  He shrugged and walked over to pick up his lunch tray.

  She sighed and followed suit, tipping out her lunch and picking her way through the crowd to the table of familiar faces. It was nearly impossible to hear Ms. Pembergast drone on about how wonderful Eprah was over the collective hum of all the students, and for that, Sage was grateful. If she couldn’t leave, she at least didn’t want to hear about why she shouldn’t.

  Ms. Pembergast was keeping them on a strict schedule, so they had to hurry through lunch. Not that Sage wanted to spend more time than was necessary enjoying her food, but their pace was much quicker than normal today, and she had some trouble choking down her last few bites.

  After they put up their trays, they were ushered out the front doors and into the yard.

  Finally.

  Though a dull gray blanket had set in across the yard, Sage thought the air had never smelled fresher. She relished each crunch of dying grass beneath her feet and eagerly blinked in the hazy sunlight.

  “Alright, children, it’s time for physical development,” Ms. Pembergast announced, rubbing her arms. “On that side of the yard, Finkel!” she barked at one of the boys as he began to run toward the open side of the yard. She motioned toward the stacks of wooden beams and continued. “I’ll be over here. Don’t wander off, but you have some time to play.”

  She exhaled deeply and trailed behind the excited group she’d just turned loose, taking up her post as far away as she reasonably could without saying she wasn’t watching them.

  Sage had just reached one of the beams when she heard a roar behind her and saw that they weren’t the only ones having a time of physical development. Half of the kids from the cafeteria were streaming out the front doors, running straight towards them.

  As the twelve-and-under crowd rushed the play yard, Sage ducked under a couple large beams near the end of the yard and plopped down on the ground. This whole day was becoming quite overwhelming. She was happy to have found a place where she could be alone for a moment.

  “Oh, hi!”

  Sage snapped her head around. Level Seven Ambassador Penelope was crawling under the edge of the beams and had stopped abruptly when she realized someone was already there.

  “Mind if I sit too?”

  Sage shrugged. “Sure.”

  Penelope scooted under the beams and settled in next to Sage.

  “No one’s ever in this spot. You surprised me,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Sorry,” Sage muttered. “I can leave.” She started to get up, but Penelope put a hand on her arm.

  “Oh, no, I didn’t mean that,” she said. “I don’t mind having company here.”

  She grinned and leaned in. “This is my thinking spot.”

  “Your thinking spot?” Sage asked.

  “Yeah! Don’t you ever just want to go off and think about things? Like… why are some horses brown and others spotted? Or… what will be my assignment after school is over? Or… will I have Mr. Walsh again next year, or will it be Ms. Nan?” She wrinkled her nose. “You know, stuff like that—everything.”

  Sage nodded. She hadn’t really been left alone since she’d gotten to the Institution, and she did have a lot of thoughts. But somehow, she didn’t really mind sharing the thinking spot with Penelope.

  “What about you?” Penelope prodded gently.

  Sage looked down and laced her fingers in the grass, trying to decide how much she should say. “I think about…” she stopped. Tears were starting to form.

  “I think about my parents,” she said honestly, managing to hold back all but two tears.

  “Your parents?” Penelope was genuinely surprised. “Are they rich?”

  Sage shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh,” Penelope said, obviously confused. “But you knew them?”

  “Yeah,” she nodded.

  “That’s so strange. You know, most of us kids never knew our parents. I didn’t.” Recognition passed over Penelope’s face. “Oh, Sage. Your parents—they’re Lawless, aren’t they?”

  Sage shrugged. “I—I’d never heard of that before I came here.”

  Penelope’s eyes widened even more. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

  Although she still wasn’t quite sure why she didn’t want anyone else to know, she was grateful Penelope had promised to keep it a secret.

  “They’re not—they wouldn’t try to get you out of here, would they?” Penelope looked concerned.

  Sage bit her lip and shook her head. “No. They’re… they’re dead.”

  Suddenly, Penelope seemed rather uncomfortable. “I’m sor—er, that must be hard.”

  Both girls stared at the ground. The bustle of noise in the play yard couldn’t drown out the silence that hung between them.

  Penelope was the first to speak again.

  “Do you like it here?”

  “I hate it.” The words came out before Sage could stop them.

  Penelope’s jaw dropped. “You do?”

  “Yeah,” Sage confessed, absentmindedly watching a shadow moving on the ground beside them.

  “But…” Penelope searched aimlessly for the right words.

  Sage shot her a look. “You mean—you actually like it here?”

  Penelope nodded. “Well, yeah,” she said. “This is our home. I can’t really imagine anything different. I mean—they take really good care of us here.”

  Sage furrowed her brow. “Sure, if you like food that doesn’t taste like food and instructors that don’t really care about you and—” she saw the hurt look on Penelope’s face and stopped.

  “I just—I really liked everything before all this,” she gestured toward the building.

  Penelope was quiet. Sage glanced back at where the shadow had been, but it was gone now. She hoped she hadn’t trusted the wrong person.

  “I hope you like it here eventually, Sage,” Penelope said sincerely and gently. “I mean, I guess I’m pretty used to it because I’ve been here as long as I can remember. I think it’ll get better for you.”

  Sage stared at the ground. She might get used to it, but she didn’t think it would ever get better.

  “Ow!” Sage said at the feeling of a sudden jolt. “What was that?”

  “Time to go!” Penelope scrambled to her feet. “It’s just the zeptobes.” She grinned. “You’ll get used to it. C’mon Sage.”

  They ducked under the beams and ran to the edge of the yard where Ms. Pembergast and another instructor were waiting.

  Sage watched Penelope fall in line with the other students and march back into the building. Ms. Pembergast was looking over her much smaller group, making sure everyone was accounted for.

  Pippa tugged on Ms. Pembergast's sleeve and whispered something in her ear. Ms. Pembergast’s eyes narrowed, and she nodded coolly. “Thank you, Pippa.”

  Her attention turned to the rest of the group. “We’re going back inside now. Be quiet in the hallways; classes are in session.”

  They filed back inside. Ms. Pembergast led them down one hallway after another, pausing at different intervals to explain the classes that were taking place behind each door.

  “This wing is for our Level Fifteen students,” she droned. The long stretches of hallway all blurred together. Sage thought it was a marvel than anyone could find their way in a place this size.

  They crossed another corridor and trudged down some stairs, stopping outside of a set of glass double doors. Sage’s jaw dropped as she peered into the room.

  Arranged in eight rows and piled one against the other were bassinets filled with newborn babies. Dozens of adults milled around the room, rocking the criers, changing dirty diapers, humming lullabies.

  “And this,” Ms. Pembergast said, puffing up her chest, “this is the pride of Eprah. Limitless potential, this room. It’s simply breathtaking.”

  “There’s so many!” Aura exclaimed.

  Ms. Pembergast nodded. “Most all of the children of Eprah begi
n their lives here. They typically leave their mothers at one week old, and the nurses look after them from there.”

  A young woman walked in front of the door, carrying a baby in her arms and craning her neck over him as he grasped at her loose strands of hair.

  “How come I wasn’t raised here?” Finkel asked.

  Ms. Pembergast smiled. “Well, in your case, your parents were contributing so well to Eprah that they were given the privilege of caring for you until your education became a challenge to keep up with.”

  “He’s a rich dummy,” Carnabel muttered under her breath, and Ms. Pembergast shot her a look.

  “Let’s keep moving, children.” Ms. Pembergast steered them toward another staircase and down several more hallways.

  They came to another steel door, and Ms. Pembergast pushed it open and stood to the side so that her pupils could see inside. It was a very plain, very large room packed full of bunk beds on rollers.

  “And these will be your dormitories next year,” she said cheerily. “This one’s the boys’, but the girls’ looks identical, so we won’t bother stopping by today.”

  Satisfied that they had seen enough, she closed the door and began marching them down another hallway.

  They continued through the maze of hallways. Sage didn’t realize how far they’d gone until they stopped at another door and Ms. Pembergast announced that the tour was over for the day and that they had better spend the rest of the evening studying because preliminary exams were coming up. She opened the door and ushered the boys into their room for the evening.

  “Come on, now, ladies,” she crooned as she led them to the adjacent doorway and pushed it open.

  They rushed into the room, but Ms. Pembergast lingered in the doorway.

  “Sage, I need to see you out here for a moment.”

  Ms. Pembergast’s tone made Sage’s heart drop. She stepped out the door and into the hallway, aware of the eyes of the other girls in the room following her every move. She glanced back into the room, and as Ms. Pembergast closed the door, she saw Pippa cross her arms and snort with an air of superiority.

  “Sage, I heard something very disturbing today.”

  “What?” Sage felt obliged to ask but didn’t want to hear the answer.