The Gray Institute_Rebels' Hell

by Leanne Pearson

  'I don't know,' I shrug, trying not to let her see me squirm. 'That's a broad question.'

  'Well, I don't mind telling you I think Patrick's got a point. I mean, yeah he's fucking creepy, the way his eyes just kind of see through you,' She shudders violently. 'But that whole thing about the prisoners? About them not helping us? That could really happen.'

  'You think so?' I frown, feeling a plummeting sensation deep in my stomach. Until now I had myself convinced that, besides Katherine, I was the only one stupid enough to be irked by Patrick's theories. None of the other Rebels seemed even slightly concerned, which made it easy to tell myself I was just being paranoid.

  'Well yeah, I mean – ' Stacey shrugs. 'The rest of the plan is pretty solid. Fucking difficult but definitely achievable. But it's like Vanessa said, that's the only part of the whole thing that they can't guarantee. These prisoners have been there for like... ages. I mean, who knows what shit's going on inside their heads? Who knows how they'll react when they're suddenly brought back to life? These guys were okay, I guess,' She jerks her head backwards towards Zoe, who can probably hear us but is politely pretending she can't. 'But they were only down there for a couple of hundred years. And they were Rebels, you know? They were willing to give their lives to this cause, but the others... ' She trails off, giving me another shrug.

  'Well – ' I hesitate, trying to get control of the storm brewing in my gut. 'What should we do?'

  'What should we do?' Stacey frowns, snorting. 'There's sod all we can do! This is it, girl. We're part of this now. We're on this ride and we're not getting off. If this plan goes to shit, we go to shit with it.'

  'So, that's it?' I frown.

  'Yeah. That's it. It didn't occur to you going in that you might end up losing your existence to this Rebellion? Did you think it was a sure thing?'

  'Then why are you even worrying about what the prisoners do? If you're so committed to it, what does it even matter?'

  'Jeez, just 'cos I'm willing to give everything I have to chuck Sirus out doesn't mean I can't be concerned about ending up in that hell hole myself,' Stacey shrugs. 'This isn't some peaceful protest, Eve. This is the most serious thing to happen to our world since Menes Sekhem was Confined. This is going in the history books. New Immortals will be taught about this shit in the Institutes. If you're not going to give it your all, what are you even doing here?'

  It's a good question, and the truth is, I never chose to be here. I was put here. I was guided here. When Sir Alec saw my performance during my Practical lesson, the day he set me my task, that was a defining moment. It set off a chain reaction, a spiralling of events happening one after the other through no choice of my own. That's how I came to be here. And if Stacey or anyone else asked me right now which would I rather be doing: sitting down here in the middle of this Rebellion, or sitting up there attending lessons like every other first year, I'm pretty sure I'd say the latter. I'm just like Malachy; thrown into a position through no fault or want of my own, and now my entire life depends on how I handle it. On what I do next. Except I don't have a choice about what I do next. And on it goes.

  *

  As the last week of our training approaches, tensions run high under the Institute's marbled floors. The group leaders are starting to feel the pressure of being responsible for over a hundred others, of being given the task of making sure we arrive at our destination safely and on time. The plan is so tightly wound that the slightest mistake or delay will throw the whole thing off course.

  The hardest part of our journey will be arriving in New Zealand and making our way to Marlborough Airport. The rest of us aren't supposed to know details about the travel plans – Vlad's way of saving himself the hassle of three hundred questions and oppositions – but I heard from Stacey, who heard it from Jared – one of the group leaders – that we'll be following a river all the way into the heart of Marlborough, almost directly to the airport. Though this may sound like a better option than one hundred Immortals trekking through towns in broad daylight, Stacey tells me it's got Jared worried. Most of the river flows through farmlands and empty marshes, but there's a large portion of it situated right in the middle of the suburbs, and rivers aren't as deep as the ocean.

  'I heard him yelling at Vlad the other day,' Stacey whispers as we slurp from our plastic pouches. 'He was saying something about humans spotting us beneath the water. If you ask me, he's got a point. I mean, sure, humans haven't got shit on us when it comes to our senses, but most of them aren't blind, deaf and dumb. They're not going to miss a hundred people swimming along a river are they?'

  As the days wear on, I witness something else that disturbs me. More and more Rebels are entering into conversations with Patrick willingly. This can only mean one thing: they're doubting Vlad and The Plan. And who can blame them with Stacey overhearing Jared, and Sir Alec refusing to give us details about how he managed to secure the airport. 'He says it's to protect the connections he has within the mortal world,' Vlad tells us one night when Stacey has the nerve to bring it up. 'But he assures us that the airport will be safe. We're expected there and the jets will be waiting. It's not as if the humans know who or what we are.'

  On the 28th of March, exactly one week before the storming of the Confine, Lorna comes to visit me. It still shocks me to see her transformation, even though I've seen it before. I'm half expecting little human Lorna to walk through the wooden door, all flushed cheeks and beating heart, and it's hard for me to hide my disquiet when she glides into the room, porcelain skin and graceful. 'Still weird?' She asks, smirking slightly. I nod.

  'Still weird.'

  'I know,' She sighs, slumping down on the chair in front of me. Somehow even her slumping is graceful. 'I still get a shock every time I pass a mirror. And I don't think I'll ever get used to slurping blood.' She shudders.

  'So, what's the occasion?' I smile, trying to see past her newly Immortal image and pretend she's still the same Lorna. 'I'm surprised Sir Alec let you come down here again.'

  'He didn't have much choice,' She smiles wryly. 'I've been kicking up a lot of fuss over my treatment lately. I think he's struggling to handle me.'

  'I don't doubt that.' I laugh at the obvious pride she feels in antagonising her adoptive father.

  'I just wanted to see you before... ' She trails off, glancing away, her smile fading.

  'Before we go?'

  'Yes,' She sighs. 'Before you go.'

  'Sir Alec still won't let you join us?'

  'You must be joking,' She snorts. 'He won't even let me out of his sight when he can help it. But – ' She hesitates, not meeting my eyes. I wait patiently for her to continue.

  'But?' I prompt her, feeling that familiar sensation of panic twisting my gut. What now?

  'It's not like I'm saying goodbye or anything. That'd be like I'm suggesting the Rebellion won't succeed, which I totally think it will. I have complete faith in Vlad, even if he is a conniving bastard,' She smiles. 'But I also wanted to thank you.'

  'Thank me?' I frown.

  'Properly,' Lorna nods. 'For everything you did for me. I realise I've never truly expressed my gratitude to you. You're in this situation because of me, and whilst I one hundred percent believe in the Rebellion, I realised recently that I never really considered whether or not you wanted to be a part of it.'

  'Lorna, you don't have to – '

  'No, let me say this,' She straightens in her chair, looking me square in the eye. Lorna has never intimidated me physically, even as an Immortal I'm pretty confident I could beat her in any type of fight. But as a human, her canny ability to know things she shouldn't, and her absolute belief in herself and her opinions was always a little daunting. As an Immortal, daunting gives way to outright intimidating. 'I always knew you didn't want to leave the Institute. Malachy, Tia, Diana... they were all reasons for you to stay. Not to mention the fact that like so many of the others you'd made the Institute your true home. But I knew that regardless of myself and what I wanted, you didn't
really have a choice. I never looked upon it as being my fault that you had to leave, I always believed it was Alec's – '

  'It was Sir Alec's.'

  'I know. But what I never completely realised was that you did it without complaint, and without animosity towards me. That takes a special kind of person, Eve. The fact that I was the reason your new life was ruined, yet you never thought ill of me... It's almost unbelievable. I realise that now,' Lorna hesitates a moment. 'I heard what happened in your test. You know, when you first came to the Institute? You were told you had exceptional protective instincts, and I don't think you ever really agreed with that. But I want to make you see that Clayton Nickson wasn't mistaken. You left the Institute because you had no other choice, and you left it with me because it was convenient. But everything that happened afterwards? That was all you, Eve. You protected me even when you didn't have to. You could have left me behind, carried on without me faster and more proficiently. Yet you didn't.

  After I was transformed, I started to think that maybe I was the reason this Rebellion was finally happening. That it was my presence, my reluctant connection to Alec that kicked it all off. But I've realised that actually, it was all down to you. Without you, I'd still be in the same position I am now, but I'd have no hope. No future. You gave me everything I asked for and more,' She reaches across the small table and clasps my hand. 'I am truly, truly grateful. And no matter what happens, whether this Rebellion succeeds or not, I want you to know that my gratitude will last an eternity.'

  'Jeez, Lorna,' I squeeze her hand quickly before drawing mine back, rubbing my neck. 'You're welcome.' I shrug. It feels lame after such an epic monologue on her part, but she smiles just the same.

  'I also came to give you these,' She reaches into her jacket, pulling out three neatly folded squares of paper. 'They're letters,' She tells me, handing them over. 'From Malachy, Tia and Diana. Malachy wanted to give you his himself but he was called to the Auctoritas urgently and didn't have time to come. He asked Alec to give it to you and he passed it to me. That got me thinking,' She smiles as I hold the unremarkable pieces of paper, feeling as though she's just handed me a lifeline. 'Tia and Diana aren't supposed to know you're here, and I didn't tell them you are. But I got a message to them through one of the guards, asking them to write you a letter in the event I could ever pass it on to you.'

  'Lorna!' I scold her seriously. 'That was dangerous! No one is supposed to know that you have any idea where I am. The Auctoritas think I ditched you in Thailand. What if these letters got into the wrong hands and someone realised you know – '

  'Shall I take them back then?' She holds her hand out for the papers, a smirk plastered on her face. I involuntarily snatch them out of her grasp and she nods, satisfied. 'I thought so. I haven't read them, I promise you. I thought that would be an invasion of your privacy.'

  To anyone else that would seem like a given, but I know how much self-restraint Lorna – with her thirst for knowledge on topics she shouldn't be privy to – must have exercised on being handed these letters. 'Thank you.' I clasp them to my chest.

  'I have to go,' She says suddenly, standing. 'He said I couldn't have more than ten minutes. Something about 'distracting you from your training.'' She rolls her eyes. I stand, too, rolling the letters up and tucking them neatly down my sleeve. There's a strange moment of silence where Lorna and I stare at one another from two feet apart. It's as though we're seeing each another properly for the first time, finally understanding everything there is to know about the other. It's strangely cleansing. 'Good luck.' She steps towards me, wrapping her arms around my neck and squeezing tight. I hold her just as firmly, and though she told me this wasn't goodbye, it certainly feels like it.

  'You, too.' I mumble into her mane of brown hair.

  'If you – ' She hesitates, pulling away. 'If you see my mother, tell her – ' She stops, apparently stumped.

  'I'll tell her you're waiting for her.' I smile. Lorna nods, satisfied. She glances back once as she leaves the room, giving me a half-smile I can't quite return. One of the guards outside heads off with Lorna, and the other waits for me. I step towards him, but stop abruptly. There's nowhere private down here in the dungeons where I can read these letters. I'll have someone glancing over my shoulder whether they mean to or not. This room seems like the best place, and though my breathing races whenever I think about opening them, I'm desperate to see what they say.

  'I'm going to stay for five minutes.' I tell the guard. He looks unsure but I don't give him time to protest before turning my back on him, lowering myself into the seat Lorna has just vacated. I spread the pieces of paper out on the table top, recognising each scrawl of handwriting peeking through underneath. Malachy's is the letter I'm least nervous about reading, though that's not to say I'm completely without anxiety. I unfold it carefully, smiling as I trace my fingers over his familiar, elegant script.

  Eve,

  I wish I could deliver this letter in person, but as Sir Alec probably told you, my father has called an urgent audience with Lucrezia and I. I don't think it's anything to worry about, probably just more strategy for the upcoming war he's envisioning. The timing is, however, unfortunate.

  I mostly wanted to apologise to you for my behaviour during our last meeting. I realise now that my uncertainty and obvious anxiety probably didn't do much to help you with your own. You are in a far more dangerous situation than I, and you do far less complaining about it. Then again, you always have put me to shame. I want to reassure you that I'm okay now, I've calmed down and become the level-headed, stony faced man you know so well.

  I realise that this will probably be the last chance I get to speak to you before you leave. I won't say goodbye as I'm certain we'll see each other again very soon, but I will say good luck. I have every faith in Vlad that he will lead you and the others to victory.

  I've never told you just how much I admire you, Eve. You're courageous and strong, much more so than I, and you have an ability to think for yourself that, surprisingly, many don't possess. My only regret is that I haven't had the chance to tell you this in person, and the next time I see you, I will. You and the other Rebels are about to change our world for the better, and I envy you that.

  I love you very much. No matter what happens or how this situation plays out, I want you to know that.

  Be strong, Eve. Until I see you again.

  All my love,

  Malachy.

  In my whole life I've never experienced so many emotions at once. Unconditional, immeasurable love, fear, hope, sadness, longing, they twist my stomach and my heart until I feel as though I can't breath. I love you very much. I run my fingers over the dry ink and wonder how long ago he wrote those words. Where is he now?

  I fold the paper up carefully and put it to one side, knowing those words will be read a thousand times more, and open the next letter. Diana's beautiful handwriting stares back at me from a blank page.

  Dear Eve,

  I can't begin to imagine what you've been through over the past few months, and all I can say is that I'm sorry I wasn't there to go through it with you. I have Created Immortals before you, and I will Create Immortals after you, but I feel no shame in saying that you are particularly special to me. I realise – and most likely, so do you – that this may have something to do with the loss of Elizabeth. It's possible that you resent my regarding myself as a mother-figure to you – after all, you have your own mother – but it's true that I regard you as my own daughter.

  When you left the Institute, I admit I felt nothing but fear. Fear for you, of course, not for myself. The world is a dangerous place for a new, untrained Immortal – especially one being hunted by senior authorities. I have no one to ask for information on your well-being, no way of knowing if you are all right or if you have been captured.

  Though Miss Gray has told me nothing of your whereabouts or well-being, her suggestion that I write this letter has ultimately given me hope. I do not wish to know whether she
has a connection to you, a way of ever getting this to you, but I pray that one day it finds its way into your hands.

  I think what you did was very brave, my darling, and very selfless. I'm not angry with you, I'm not hurt by you. I hope one day I will see you again, but until then I wish you every happiness in whatever path you choose to pursue.

  I love you, my girl.

  Diana.

  My emotions at reading Diana's letter are a little easier to distinguish and, for the hundredth time since becoming Immortal, I wish that I could cry. I have worried about Diana for what feels like an eternity, knowing nothing about her well-being, or how she now feels towards me. I don't know why I expected anything less of my beloved, saintly Creator, but the relief I experience at knowing she feels no animosity towards me is so huge I could never measure it. After all, you have your own mother. Not any more, Diana. Now you're all I have.