The Gray Institute_Rebels' Hell

by Leanne Pearson

  'I'm Tama,' The boy says, speaking with confidence now. 'This is Kauri,' He gestures to the little boy. 'I'm five, he's one. We're brothers.' His eyes slide over to Lorna who's still passed out, breathing unevenly. 'Is she your sister?' He asks. I hesitate a moment.

  'Yes,' I nod. 'I'm Catherine. She's Marcheline.' Using our mothers' names may not be the wisest idea; if Sir Alec's cronies did happen to pass through here, the name Marcheline would certainly ring alarm bells, but it's the only way I can be sure I won't forget them.

  'We don't get many visitors,' The boy – Tama – tells me. 'Everyone else lives in town. It's too far to walk.'

  'Walk.' The younger one – Kauri – jerks to attention, his big eyes bright.

  'No, we're not going for a walk now, Kauri. We've got guests.' Tama sighs, rolling his eyes. It sounds like a phrase he might have heard his mother say.

  'Boys, don't pester our guests.' The woman returns bearing a damp cloth which she presses against Lorna's forehead.

  'Thank you,' I tell her, trying to muster as much sincerity as possible. 'You've been very kind.'

  'Well,' She sniffs. 'We couldn't have her bleeding to death in the driveway, could we? But this really isn't the place to be getting lost on an adventure. It's dangerous out here if you're unprepared.'

  'We certainly won't be repeating it,' I assure her. 'I'm Catherine.' I offer my hand.

  'Anahera,' She squeezes it, her fingers cold. 'You can call me Ana.'

  'Is it just the three of you?' I ask coolly, trying to sound nonchalant.

  'No, my husband's out with the horses. He'll be back soon.'

  Crap. I was hoping there wouldn't be a husband in the picture. How's he going to feel coming back to find two strangers in his living room, one passed out on the sofa?

  'Hine hurt.' Kauri tells me. I frown slightly, trying to decipher his words.

  'Um – '

  'He said Hine is hurt,' Tama tells me. 'That's our horse. He's got a bad leg. Papa might have to shoot him.'

  'Tama! Not in front of Kauri!' Ana scolds. Kauri seems oblivious, more interested in the packet of pain killers lying on the coffee table. Ana snatches them out of his reach quickly.

  'Um, if you wouldn't mind telling me, where's the nearest town?' I ask, perching delicately on the arm of the sofa opposite Ana, careful not to jolt Lorna.

  'Ruatoria's about fifteen miles that way,' She gestures out of the window. 'Nearest one by a long shot.'

  'I know it's a lot to ask after all you've done for us already,' I hesitate. 'But do you think maybe, if your husband doesn't mind, you could give us a ride there?' I still have no idea what country we're in, let alone where the nearest city is, but perhaps from the town I could work it out. Asking Ana would look too suspicious.

  'Sure, we can give you a ride,' She nods. I breathe a sigh of relief. 'But not today. She needs rest,' She nods at Lorna. 'She's in no fit state to be walking around in the hot sun.' With that said, she lathers some white cream onto Lorna's visible burns.

  'Is there somewhere nearby we could stay?' I ask as Ana snatches yet another packet of pills from Kauri, deciding finally to just put the lid back on the tin. I know it's unlikely there's a hotel nearby, but the quicker we can get away from Ana the better. She's done what I couldn't for Lorna, and I can walk fifteen miles carrying her easily. We need to put some distance between us and this place.

  'You mean like a motel?' Ana snorts. 'Not likely. If I need a bottle of shampoo I have to travel fifteen miles to get it. You can stay here. The sofa pulls out into a camp bed.'

  'How long do you think she'll need?' I ask, peering at Lorna, willing her to wake up now.

  'Oh, she'll be alright by tomorrow. She just needs to let those antibiotics work their magic and keep herself hydrated. She won't be able to do a lot of walking though, that's for sure.'

  'We need to get to the nearest big city,' I blurt out, racking my brains as Ana gives me another inquisitive stare. 'We lost all our belongings on the boat. All we've got is this bag full of dirty laundry,' I pat the black rucksack where it sits by my feet. 'We'll need to sort out replacement passports and tickets home and... ' I trail off, not wanting to give anything away.

  'I see,' She nods slowly. 'Well, Manukau is about two hundred miles away. It's not a huge city but it's – '

  'What's the biggest city?' I ask. I'm aware I sound like a bit of a ditz but none of the names she's given me so far are even vaguely familiar. I need a big city. A capital, even. And I can sense the husband out in the fields, coming ever closer.

  'Well, Auckland's only a little further. Just over 200 miles, I reckon. Of course it depends whether you're driving straight through – '

  I've stopped listening as Ana rambles on about various routes to take. Auckland. I've heard that name before. But where is it? Geography was never my strong point. I need Lorna to wake up more than ever.

  'Can we get to Auckland from Ruatoria?' I ask, cutting Ana off.

  'There is a coach service, I think,' She rubs her chin thoughtfully. 'Course it costs money. And it wouldn't be a pleasant journey at all. Probably take you about eight hours. I've no idea how often it runs or – '

  'It doesn't matter,' I smile, sighing with relief. 'We'll figure it out.'

  'I thought you lost all your belongings on the boat?' Ana narrows her eyes. 'How are you going to pay for – ' Her sentence is cut off by the sound of heavy footsteps on the front porch. Through the screen door comes a tall man with dark skin and long black hair. His face is weathered but handsome and a dark beard covers most of the lower half. He stops when he sees me perched on the arm of his sofa, his black eyes narrowing suspiciously. 'Mika!' Ana stands, smiling widely. 'How is Hine?'

  'Papa, is Hine going to be okay? Will you have to shoot him?'

  'Tama! How many times do I have to tell you? Not in front of Kauri!'

  'Hine will be okay,' The man, Mika, speaks with a deep, rumbling voice, but when he envelopes his son in an embrace, his face softens considerably. 'His leg is getting better.'

  'Mika, this is Catherine and her sister, Marcheline,' Ana tells him. 'They got caught in a storm out in the bay. The sister's hurt quite badly.'

  Mika's eyes take in my appearance, his mouth set in a firm line. 'Hello.' I smile nervously. He doesn't reply, but his gaze slips to where Lorna lies, and down to her leg.

  'You fixed her up?' He asks Ana. She nods.

  'They'll need to stay the night. She's not strong enough to walk. Tomorrow we'll take them to town.'

  The man's eyes are hard as he listens to his wife, and I wait for him to refuse. Maybe even tell us to leave. But after a moment, he just nods and disappears out of the room, Tama trailing after him. Ana flashes me a smile. 'My husband is a man of few words,' She explains. 'He can come across a little rude, but he doesn't mean to be.'

  'That's okay.' I choke out. Ana begins clearing away the medical supplies, feeling Lorna's forehead once more.

  'You must be hungry,' She smiles at me. 'I'll fix us some supper.'

  As she disappears after her husband, all I can do is pray that Lorna wakes in time for dinner. How else am I going to get around the fact that I won't be able to eat any of it?

  *

  Lorna wakes up just as the table is being set, and since she can barely put weight on her leg, Ana lets us eat our dinner on the sofa whilst she and the others sit at the kitchen table. Lorna's not hungry, but after a few hissing threats issued under the cover of the radio, she eats half of her plate and most of mine. She answers immediately when I ask her about Auckland, informing me that we're in New Zealand. She doesn't protest when I tell her we have to stay here for the night, in fact, she seems relieved, but she's not so out of sorts that she's forgotten the plan.

  'What are we going to do once we're in Auckland?' She asks, pushing her plate away.

  'Well, we'll have to find someone who can help us get passports.'

  'Right. Who?' She gives me a sceptical glance and it takes every ounce of my self-restraint not
to remind her that this was her plan in the first place.

  'We'll find someone. I'll think of something.'

  'All finished?' Ana bustles into the lounge and clears our plates away, and the children resume their positions at the foot of the sofa to stare.

  'Is she dying?' Tama stage whispers the moment Ana leaves the room.

  'No. She's not dying.' I assure him, though I'm not sure he'd be too disappointed if she did. The kid seems to have a morbid fascination with death.

  'Our nana died,' He tells me matter-of-factly. 'We had to have a foonrul. It went on for days,' He sighs. 'And then in a year, we have to have another one for her. It's tradshon.'

  'Tradition.' I correct him.

  'Yeah, that. Do you have a nana?' He stares up at me inquisitively.

  'No,' I shake my head. 'She died too.'

  'Where's your mama?'

  'She's – ' I hesitate. 'She's back home in England.'

  'Are you going to go and see her tomorrow?' Tama's large brown eyes focus intensely on mine, as though he understands the weight of his own question. Of course I can't go and see my mum, it's impossible, it's forbidden, but for the first time in a long time, the idea is more than just that – an idea.

  'No,' Lorna's voice is croaky from where she lies on the sofa. 'We're not going to England.'

  I turn to look at her, her mossy eyes boring into mine, and read the silent message she conveys. Remember the plan. Don't let yourself get side-tracked. She's right, of course, but a flare of anger ignites in my chest as I stare at her. It's okay for me to risk everything for her mother, a complete stranger, but not okay to contemplate visiting mine.

  Ana helps me fold the camp bed down as Lorna rests in the arm chair, and we accept our hostesses' glasses of warm milk. She heads upstairs to bath the boys and put them to bed, and Mika bids us a short goodnight. When Ana returns, Lorna and I are settled beneath the thin covers, both our glasses drained – by Lorna – and the rucksack tucked safely underneath us.

  'Well, goodnight, then,' Ana smiles. 'Help yourself to anything you need. Mika told me the Auckland coach arrives at midday and then again at four. We should probably catch the midday one if you need time to get settled in Auckland.'

  'Sounds perfect,' I smile. 'Thank you for everything, Ana.' Sincerity has never been my strongest characteristic, but I think I manage to convey my gratitude well enough as she smiles warmly before leaving.

  The next day, Lorna feels a little better. She can walk with a bit of a limp, and her temperature has dropped. She eats a breakfast of honey and bread whilst I pretend to sip strong coffee, Ana gets the boys ready and, with just our rucksack, we set off in Ana's Jeep, bidding goodbye to Mika as we pass him in the field.

  Half an hour later, we cruise into the town of Ruatoria and come to a stop outside a small white building with flaky shutters. Ana hustles the boys out of the car and I link arms with Lorna for support, lagging behind as Ana strides into the building. Before we've even made it onto the porch, she returns bearing two tickets and an information leaflet about Auckland. She hands them to me without batting an eyelid and I stare down at the white strips of cardboard, feeling a lump of emotion lodge in my throat.

  'Ana, I – ' I swallow, trying to get rid of the lump so that I can talk. 'I don't have anything to give you in return.' The black rucksack burns on my spine, the shame of having 50,000 Euros and not being able to say so engulfs me.

  'Don't be stupid,' She tuts, rolling her dark eyes. 'Did you think I would just leave you here to fend for yourselves? Our house may look a little run-down but we get by surprisingly well. Take them.' She closes my hand around the tickets, and I try to believe that she's telling the truth about her finances. 'You know,' She stares at me, pausing a moment to think. 'I find it hard to believe that the two of you managed to walk all the way from the coast after surviving a storm and with an injured leg,' She gestures to Lorna. I open my mouth to reply but she cuts me off. 'I don't need to know the truth. You're obviously running from something or someone, and you wouldn't take the stupid risks that you did without it being for good reason. So just promise me that you'll be safe?'

  'We promise.' I gulp. Ana is right; we are running from something, but her illusions of us as poor, weak young girls is pretty far off the mark. We don't need her money, we didn't need her to drive us to Ruatoria, and we didn't need to spend the night in her cramped little home. All of this makes it so much harder to accept the tickets and her kindness. Finally, I can't stand it any longer. 'I left my sunglasses in your car,' I say quickly, letting go of Lorna. Ana gives me a quizzical look – I wasn't wearing sunglasses – but I'm in the back seat before she can say anything. I shove my hand into the rucksack and pull out a fistful of notes, stuffing them in the side of the door. She won't see them immediately, but no doubt she'll find them within the next couple of days and by then we'll be long gone.

  'Got them,' I smile, zipping the rucksack back up. 'Well, I don't know how we can ever thank you, Ana.'

  'Yes, you've been so kind.' Lorna nods, smiling. Ana steps forward and gently embraces her before moving onto me. Kauri runs up and grabs at my leg, his small fists bunching up my trousers as he clings on. Tama offers me a gentle handshake. We watch them climb back into the Jeep, and stare after it until it disappears over the hill.

  Chapter Three

  Lucrezia.

  Ryder doesn't know it, but I'm watching her. I watch her and the human traipse across the Institute's grounds towards the border until they've disappeared over the horizon. For a moment, a sense of foreboding creeps over me and I begin to question myself.

  Have I done the right thing in letting them go? Should I have gone straight to Sir Alec when I figured out their plan? Am I taking too much of a risk?

  But no, I shake my head to clear it. They'll be caught, sooner rather than later, and when they are, Ryder will be thrown straight into the Confine. I've saved myself a lot of trouble by allowing them to escape.

  I walk back to the Institute just as the corridors begin to fill, students making their way to second period. I head up to Theory – my scheduled lesson – and wait for the inevitable call to Sir Alec's office when he realises his precious human is missing.

  It takes longer than I expect – much longer. Forty-five minutes later I'm still listening to the drones of that simpering pretty-boy, Will Kearns. Theory is a lesson I loathe above all others; it's such a drain on my patience to have to sit and listen to information I learned years ago, information about my family and the laws they've passed. I asked father once if I could skip it but he refused. He said that just because I'm an Auctorita child, it doesn't mean I can pass off my education whenever I please.

  The students are packing up their notepads and bags and Sir Alec still hasn't sent a messenger. At this rate, Ryder and the girl will be long gone before he realises. I feel a stab of panic at the thought that they might actually get away with their escape, but I quickly quiet myself. Of course they won't get away with it. Ryder is a first year; untrained and uneducated, and the Gray girl is a mere human. They’re probably still stumbling, lost, around the island. Even if they do manage to get off the Antipodes, even make it to land, the Officials won't be far behind them. They will be caught; father will make sure of it.

  But in order for that to happen, father must first be informed, which means that Alec needs to notice his daughter's disappearance now.

  There's nothing for it but for me to help Alec along. At morning break I push past the students making their way to the common rooms, and head up to the fourteenth floor. The guard stationed outside Sir Alec's study straightens when he sees me, and I smile as a flash of fear ignites his eyes. 'I need to speak with Sir Alec,' I tell him briskly. 'It's a matter of urgency.'

  'Yes, Miss Beighley,' the guard nods. I take a step forward but he darts in front of me. 'Excuse me, Miss Beighley,' he stammers, dropping his gaze as I raise an irritated eyebrow. 'But Sir Alec has company at the moment. If you'd like to wait, I'm sure he'll be f
inished – '

  'Have you gone temporarily deaf?' I snap. 'Didn't you hear me when I said it was a matter of urgency?'

  'Yes, Miss Beighley. But – ' The guard is spared as the door to Sir Alec's study swings open and a tall, blonde woman emerges. She glares at me as she crosses the threshold, looking as outraged as she does fearful.

  'Miss Beighley.' She nods reservedly, eyeing me with as much dislike as she dares.

  'Ms Carmel.' I smile sweetly at the fourth year Head, but my eyes let her know how much I distrust her. Ever since she questioned Sir Alec's judgement during the first years' Practical lesson about the use of humans as live dummies, I've harboured a dislike of her. To question Sir Alec's judgement is to question my father's judgement; it was, after all, my father who implemented that practice.