The Gray Institute_Rebels' Hell

by Leanne Pearson

  'Well, we made it.' I try to smile, taking in her appearance. Her usually deathly pale skin has bronzed in the sun, and there's a spattering of freckles on her thin nose. Her eyes seem different too, but I can't put my finger on it.

  'You sure did,' She turns from me, taking in the huge crowd of Immortals, all dressed identically, all staring in our direction. 'This is... something,' She raises her eyebrows. 'Was it difficult? Breaking them out?'

  'It was no picnic. I'll tell you about it later.'

  'What are they like?'

  'They're confused. Disoriented. But they've agreed to follow us.'

  'Well,' Lorna looks impressed. 'That's something.'

  'They've been warned to be on their best behaviour around you.' I assure her. She nods, but doesn't look any more relaxed. As if she's sensed our emotions, Zoe appears over my shoulder and extends a hand to Lorna. My human friend glances at me before slowly taking it, eyeing the pretty Immortal warily.

  'Lorna Beaudreux... Gray, whichever you prefer.' She introduces herself.

  'I am so pleased to meet you, Lorna,' Zoe smiles warmly. 'Kristoff told us what you have been through. How horrible.' She appears genuinely sorry for Lorna, who widens her eyes, looking slightly guilty.

  'Oh it's... it was nothing compared to your ordeal.'

  Maristella, the older Immortal I've never spoken to, also approaches Lorna, greeting her just as warmly. 'It is a very courageous thing you are doing, young maiden,' Maristella smiles. 'Joining forces with us.'

  'Well, I... I have my own part to play in this world, I suppose.' Lorna smiles. Finally, she relaxes enough to step a few feet away from me, continuing her conversation with Zoe and Maristella. I sense a new presence behind me and turn to see Asil, his tan skin glowing in the intense sunlight. He's smiling, as always, and his curls bounce as he walks.

  'Eve,' He grips my shoulder tightly. I get the impression he's a hugger, but somehow knows I'm not comfortable with touchy-feely stuff. 'You made it. I'm so proud of you.'

  'Oh I... ' I shake my head, as abashed as Lorna. 'It wasn't just me. I did very little in comparison... ' I trail off. 'How was the journey?'

  'It was... good. Great. Actually, Eve, there's something I wanted to – '

  'Eve,' Vlad's voice cuts Asil's off. 'May I talk to you a moment?' I nod, excusing myself from Asil, and follow Vlad through the palm trees towards the house. I haven't been inside yet, and as Vlad leads me through the archway, I see that I haven't been missing much. The brickwork is crumbling, the floor is bare stone, and, besides a chipped wooden table and a couple of threadbare armchairs, there's no furniture. Vlad perches on the edge of the table, folding his arms and focussing his intense gaze on me. 'It's time to put the next phase of the plan into motion,' He says, narrowing his eyes, his tone brisk and business-like. 'There's something I need you to do.'

  'Me?' I frown, feeling a creeping suspicion. 'Why me?'

  'I need someone like you. The old Rebels are too out of touch and confused, plus I don't know them well enough. Vanessa is – ' He hesitates. 'She's not the right person for this. None of the others are.'

  'What is it?' I ask, growing ever more uneasy.

  'I can't give you details just yet,' Vlad replies, ignoring the roll of my eyes. This secrecy and blindly following orders thing is getting tiresome. 'But I need you to come somewhere with me. Me and Slav.'

  'But I thought you said – '

  'Slav will be there purely for security purposes. Best to have three of us, just in case.'

  'Where are we going?' I frown.

  'To London.'

  I feel a shiver of something travel down my spine, but I can't tell what it is. Anticipation? Thrill? Excitement? Dread?

  I haven't seen London since that fateful night in the alleyway, and though part of me longs to go home – if only for a short while – another part of me never wants to set foot there again. Vlad's eyes flash with something resembling knowledge. He knows I won't be able to resist a trip home, and I can't even give myself the satisfaction of proving him wrong. 'What about Lorna?' I ask.

  'What about her?'

  'I can't just leave her here on an island with eight hundred Immortals she doesn't know.'

  'She does know some. And she'll be with Asil. He hasn't harmed her so far, has he?'

  'No, but – '

  'Asil will look after her. So will Vanessa. I need you with me, Eve.' His dark eyes seem to bore into my very soul, and it makes me uncomfortable.

  'You really can't tell me anything about it? I don't understand why you need me so badly – '

  'You'll find out soon enough. That is, if you come with me.' He gives me a small smile.

  'Alright.' I sigh. Vlad grins, sliding off of the table.

  'Excellent. We leave now.'

  *

  'Isn't this dangerous?' I ask Vlad as I spy one of Bangkok's many coastlines on the horizon. We're travelling in the little sail boat Asil and Lorna arrived in. 'I mean, won't the Auctoritas have realised that there's been a break out?'

  'It's still early,' Vlad shrugs. 'They trusted Vanessa. They may not have realised yet.'

  'But if they have, won't the major cities be crawling with Law Officers? Maybe even Army?'

  'That's why we have these.' He pulls out three strips of bright red material from his pocket, and hands one to me. They look somewhat familiar; cotton bands with black embroidery on them. Peering closer, I see that the stitches form some kind of crest, and I remember where I saw one before.

  'Wasn't Vanessa wearing one of these the day we broke the Rebels out?'

  'Yes. They're Law Officer bands,' Vlad explains. 'Every Law Officer must wear one. We also have these,' He pulls out three small squares of laminated card, printed with fine black ink. 'Law Officer identity badges. They're fake, but should pass an inspection.'

  'So, we're pretending to be Law Officers?' I frown at Vlad, who smirks. 'This is too much for me.' I shake my head.

  We dock at a harbour I don't recognise and file through the sea of tourists towards the main road.

  There is so much Immortal presence in Bangkok it's almost impossible to immediately detect a threat. It's the reason I don't alert my companions when I spot a young woman in over-sized sunglasses, peering over the top of her glossy magazine. I feel her eyes on my back as we work our way through the crowds, and before long, a slender hand clamps down on my shoulder.

  Vlad reacts quicker than I do, knocking the woman's hand away. 'Can we help you?' His tone is incredulous. The woman reaches into the pocket of her Hawaiian-style shirt, retrieving a familiar I.D. badge. She's a Law Officer. A real one.

  'State your business in Bangkok.' She removes her sunglasses, and although she's a foot shorter than me, her steely glare makes up for it.

  'I would imagine we're here for similar reasons,' Vlad hisses. 'Given the fact that we, too, are Officers. We're searching for Eve Ryder and Lorna Gray.'

  'I.D.?' The woman holds out her hand. Vlad produces his fake badge, and Slav and I follow suit. She peers closely at them as I hold my breath, trying not to appear panicked. 'Have you been given a brief on the updated orders?' She hands our badges back. She's trying to catch us out, but it doesn't work.

  'Of course we have,' Vlad tuts. 'We're well aware of the suspected rebellion, but I didn't get the memo about interrogating fellow officers.' He sneers. I smile triumphantly as I realise we've got her. Mine and Lorna's escape is well known to many Immortals by now, but the Rebels' Hell breakout and imminent rebellion are not yet widespread knowledge. Only someone in office would have that kind of information, and I suspect she's not supposed to be questioning us. She takes a step back, still suspicious – after all, a Rebel would, of course, know about the break out – but our badges, bands and wealth of knowledge seem to have passed her little test and she waves us on our way.

  Vlad flags down a taxi and we travel to Bangkok airport where it appears Vanessa has pre-booked our flights. I don't see any Law Officers in the airport, nor as we're tra
velling through the city. I wonder sometimes whether it wouldn't be easier for Immortals to use technology, but then I remember what Lorna once told me, about photographs of the same Immortals appearing year after year, trails of information left to be de-coded and spread around, and I see that the risk of humans finding out about us far out-weighs the risk of not knowing about things the second they happen.

  On the twelve hour flight from Bangkok to London, I try again to ascertain the reason for our journey, and why Vlad so desperately needs me to accompany him, but he won't budge an inch. Slav barely speaks at all except to make a random, misplaced comment every now and then, usually about an attractive woman nearby. Though I was uneasy about leaving Lorna on the island, I'm glad Slav isn't there with her.

  We arrive at Heathrow airport just after 8:00PM local time. As we make our way through the terminal, I try not to think about the family holiday to Menorca with my parents when I was ten, where we departed and arrived at Heathrow. I also try not to think about the fact that for the first time in what feels like an age, I'm in the same country as my mother.

  'We've still got a few hours yet.' Vlad observes as we climb into a taxi. He tells the driver to head to Camden Town.

  'A few hours until what?' I ask, trying to sound casual. Vlad smirks at me again.

  'Until we need to be there.'

  Of all the places in London, it had to be Camden Town. You can't get much closer to Islington than Camden without crossing over into my home town itself. The roads are all familiar to me as we chug along in the taxi, and memories I haven't thought of in years suddenly bubble up, threatening to overcome me. I sink down into my seat as we near the main high street where I used to come to get high with Ian, Davey and the others.

  'Are you alright?' Vlad asks, frowning at me from where he sits on the fold-down chair opposite. I nod but don't say anything. Thankfully, we don't pass the Lock where I slept with Mikey MacMahon down on the bank, so high I couldn't see straight.

  Vlad tells the driver to pull up outside a familiar building. He pays and we hop out onto the busy high street. I'm not sure what day it is, but the Town seems even busier than usual. The market stalls have closed up for the night but many of the shops are still open, neon lights hanging in and above the windows. Music pumps from every building, teenagers shriek up on the bridge by the Lock, and dealers hang around outside the train station, instantly recognisable to people like me. The thought suddenly occurs to me that I could bump into someone I know here, and I tell Vlad as much, following him as he beckons me quickly inside.

  The World's End is the largest pub I've ever been inside. It doesn't look like much from the street, but through the doors the sheer size of the place is daunting. Appearing like a train station with two separate storeys, areas partitioned by brown brick walls and a huge clock hanging just above the bar. They play deafening heavy metal music no matter what time of day, and often live bands perform on the weekends. It's famous all over the world, but it's especially popular with the locals.

  It's so crowded tonight I can barely walk two steps without someone bumping into me. We head to the bar in a bid to appear normal, then take our drinks and sit in one of the partitioned areas, right by a large window. No one pays us the slightest bit of attention; most of them are already drunk, shrieking along with the music, some of which I actually recognise. 'What the hell are we doing here?' I yell at Vlad for the benefit of the humans, even though I know he could hear me if I whispered.

  'We're early,' He yells back. 'Just try to look like you're drinking and enjoying yourself.'

  I glance at Slav who's busy eyeing a gothic girl in a low-cut black top a few feet away. 'Should be easy.' I mutter sarcastically.

  After a while, I get bored and pilfer a cigarette from a drunk man by the door. I stand out in the cool night air, smoking and watching the passers-by. Nothing has changed, not the high street, not the drunkards, not the fooling teenagers or the dope-toting dealers. I wonder briefly what my life would have been like had I never been transformed. And assuming I'd survived my over-dose. Would I have eventually gone back home? Maybe gone to college or got a job? Would I be sat drinking in The World's End with some faceless male after a long week at work?

  A whole parallel universe plays itself out in my head, but this – all of this – is so far removed from my life now that I can't even imagine it. Standing here outside The World's End in Camden Town, it's difficult to believe that just yesterday I was on an island in the middle of God knows where, surrounded by Immortal Rebels and preparing to take down a monarchy.

  'That's cool, what is it?' A slurred voice to my left breaks through my thoughts and I turn to see a very drunk man leaning up against the wall behind me. He's pointing to my red armband.

  'It's nothing.' I reply, stubbing my cigarette out on the wall and heading back inside. When I get back to the table, Vlad and Slav have disappeared. For a moment, I forget myself and assume they've gone to the toilet, then laugh out loud at my stupidity. I cast my senses out for Immortal presence, and have to wander for a while before it comes to me. They're up on the second level, somewhere on the other side.

  I head up the metal staircase and onto the strange balcony, passing by crowded tables towards the partition. As I head into the next section, an arm shoots out and blocks me, and I peer at the face to which the arm belongs.

  'Sorry, love. This is a private section.' A squat bald man tells me, barely pausing to look at me.

  'But I – '

  'It's okay,' Vlad's voice sounds from behind the wall. 'She's with us.'

  The man nods as though he couldn't really care less and lowers his arm. I follow Vlad into the private section, which is dimly lit and overlooks one of the side streets below. It's only now, away from the deafening speakers and the hollering drunks, that I realise I can sense more than two Immortal presences. There's a third, somewhere in this room. My eyes dart in the darkness to find it, coming to rest on a table wedged into the corner, at which sit the only other occupants of the room.

  Slav is slumped on one of the wooden chairs, facing me, his expression cold and closed-off in a way I've never seen it before. The other Immortal faces away from me, towards the wall, and has a black hood pulled up over their head. I glance at Vlad who nods reassuringly, gesturing to the chair opposite the hooded figure. As I step past the unknown Immortal to take my seat, a waft of strong scent hits my nose, and I almost pass out from the shock. Without sitting down, without taking another step, I spin around, staring straight down into the hooded figure's face. All the air leaves my lungs, as though someone has unleashed a huge vacuum here in the middle of The World's End.

  I forget about Vlad, hovering behind me, about Slav slumped in his seat, about the drunks and the teenagers and the life I may have had. The hooded figure stares up at me, pale blue eyes piercing mine. I open my mouth to speak, and a croaky, rasping sound comes out.

  'Malachy?'

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lucrezia.

  Chamber 5 is situated well beneath the Institute's thick stone floors, and down here it's cold and smells strongly of damp. The chamber itself is little more than a small, square room, windowless and with only one exit. The walls are grey stone, the floors much the same, and the only light sources are two candles on opposite walls. I perch upon the only stick of furniture in the cramped space; a spindly wooden chair which creaks beneath my weight. Accompanying me are three Institute Officials, clad in their uniforms, their faces solemn in the flickering orange light. One of them holds in his right hand a sinister-looking implement; a varnished wooden handle, the thin strips of leather protruding from it curled around his wrist. We wait silently for the small wooden door to open for the fifth time this morning.

  Finally, the iron knob twists and the metal hinges screech loudly as a shadowy figure emerges from the corridor beyond. Flanked by two more Officials, the figure is led into the room and handed over to the guards with me, before the previous retreat, closing the door quietly behind
them.

  In the glow of the candlelight, I look upon my next victim's terrified expression as she stands, biceps in the strong grips of her captors. I've interrogated five Immortals today, four of them having had very little to do with Eve Ryder when she was at the Institute. I didn't bother much with them, knowing from the outset they had no information for me. My next victim, however, holds more promise, and I intend to cleave every last piece of information she has to offer me.

  'You're aware of why you're here?' I ask, my voice cold and emotionless. I was mistaken to ignore the hard evidence that she had known of Ryder's escape plot. Now that we're faced with a Rebellion, and father believes Ryder may be involved, I need to know the truth. If Malachy won't give it to me willingly, then Tia Carey will by force.

  'Yes,' She whispers, her tiny voice echoing around the stone walls. 'But I don't understand. I've already been interrogated. I don't know anything – '