The Gray Institute_Rebels' Hell Read online

  The Gray Institute

  Rebels’ Hell

  LeAnne Pearson

  Copyright © 2018 Leanne Pearson

  All rights reserved.

  For Lucian

  Chapter One

  Eve.

  The Gray Institute is a training facility, one of four situated at various sites across the globe, all in secret locations, all closely guarded by staff and officials. Their purpose is to train new Immortals; to prepare them for their imminent lives outside of the Institute's walls. A five year stay is mandatory for any new student, during which time they are taught the ways of their new world, the history of their government, as well as hunting skills and techniques.

  As within most educational establishments, there are rules and – out in the world where Immortals live, hidden amongst humans – laws, which, if not adhered to, bear dire consequences.

  The most imperative of these rules is a simple one:

  No student is permitted to leave the Institute until their mandatory five years' training has been completed.

  This rule was one of the first explained to me when I joined the Institute six months ago, by none other than Sir Alec Gray, the prestigious head of The Gray Institute, whose life is amongst those most valued by our government – the Auctoritas.

  This rule is in place for good reason and, if broken, bears the harshest punishment: Confinement.

  I have just broken this rule.

  I'm not alone in my escape; I have a partner in crime – Sir Alec Gray's seventeen year old adopted human daughter, Lorna Gray.

  Why have I taken the enormous risk of escaping with a vulnerable and high status human, you might ask? The answer is simple enough, though the explanation is not.

  Lorna Gray was adopted by Sir Alec after her Immortal mother, Sir Alec's unwilling lover, was Confined. Sir Alec wasn't supposed to adopt Lorna, nor was he permitted by the Auctoritas to transform her mother, Marcheline. But when Marcheline broke the law by re-visiting her young daughter, it was Sir Alec who was given the task of finding and Confining her, handing her a fate worse than death sealed within the walls of the dreaded Confine, where she would be starved and left to vegetate, becoming a prisoner in her own mind.

  Unable, due to his affections, to kill Lorna, as he had been ordered to do, he instead brought her back to the Institute and vowed to change her into an Immortal on her eighteenth birthday, in accordance with the law. Lorna, who despises Immortals and the world they’ve created, dreamed of escape and of finding the Confine, freeing her mother and joining the ranks of the feared Rebels. But she needed an Immortal to help her.

  It was a ridiculous notion, a moronic plan, a suicide mission, and a plea I was unable to ignore after being handed, by Sir Alec, the impossible task of persuading Lorna to transform willingly.

  After witnessing first-hand the treatment of my predecessor, another poor girl who'd been tasked with changing Lorna's mind and had been isolated for her failure, I had no choice but to leave the Institute or face isolation myself.

  *

  The sky overhead is a bleak, pale grey, a dense sheet of cloud shrouding the early morning sun. Seagulls swoop and caw above my head, searching for sustenance amidst the desolate fields. Lorna lies at my feet, her usually pretty face twisted into an ugly mask of pain as blood seeps from a deep wound in her calf. I bend down to her, swiping my dark hair away impatiently, and turn her leg so I can get a better look.

  A large, jagged gash stretches from her inner-knee almost to her ankle, held together loosely by a long strand of cotton. The puncture wounds for the make-shift stitches are almost as ugly as the cut itself, and blood oozes slowly from the gaps in the shoddy stitch work.

  'Are you all right?' I ask her, for lack of anything else to say. She glares up at me through long strands of chestnut hair, her face chalk white and damp.

  'Do I look all right?' She asks through clenched teeth. Her pain can't be unbearable – she's still able to project sarcasm clearly enough. I glance back at the twenty feet tall fence behind us, barbed wire coils wrapped around sharp metal spikes, a shred of Lorna's jeans billowing in the wind, a gory memento of her ordeal.

  'We need to leave.' I tell her firmly, expecting protest, but she nods grimly and braces herself for movement. I clasp her clammy hands and haul her upright, ignoring the groan of pain as she wobbles on one foot.

  'I can't run.' She states, breathless. There are tears in her eyes, possibly due to pain, more likely the disappointment of knowing she's now a burden.

  'I know,' I nod once. 'I'll have to carry you.' She takes a deep breath and steps behind me to jump on my back. I have to help her, and she shrieks in pain as she lands lop-sided on my hips, her injured leg stuck out at an angle. As she settles herself, I stop for a moment to peer back in the direction we came. Beyond the fence lies a barren field, lumpy mounds of dead grass scattered frugally. It's eerie and deserted, and no-one would ever know that just a few hundred feet beyond lies a medieval castle packed with Immortals.

  'Come on!' Lorna hisses, jerking me abruptly from my thoughts. She's breathing hard and her tone is fearful – for good reason. If we're captured, by Sir Alec or by the Auctoritas, the game is over and I'll be thrown into the Confine quicker than you can say corrupt.

  I'm not sure what would happen to Lorna. Maybe Sir Alec could convince the Auctoritas to spare her, but I doubt it. They were lenient once before where she was concerned, I don't think they'd make that mistake again. To them, Lorna is a dangerous human who knows far too much of our world to ever be let go.

  Holding Lorna tightly, I navigate my way through the tall grass, taking care not to jolt her too much as she grunts with every movement. I glance back only once more in the direction of the Institute. Lorna couldn't be happier to be leaving the castle behind; for her, the Institute represents a prison, a life she never wanted but which was forced upon her. For me, the Institute is my home; a much-needed fresh start after a life of bad choices. It's also home to my friends, to my new family, and to the only person I have ever loved; Malachy Beighley.

  I try not to think of him as I force myself to walk on. Lorna is weightless on my back and eventually quietens as the journey becomes smoother. The fields are open and empty. I shed my jacket and wrap it around Lorna when I feel her start to shiver. She nods gratefully but keeps her eyes closed, enduring her pain.

  No-one, save the Institute staff and the Auctoritas, knows the locations of the four Institutes. When students graduate, they are bound, blindfolded, and flown away via an indirect route in order to keep the sites secret. Lorna and I have no idea where in the world we are – or how we're going to leave.

  Grass gives way to rocky terrain with dry and dusty earth, and gradually, tiny green shoots begin to spring from soft, squelchy mud. The Institute and its border are long gone now and new sounds travel to my ears; strange bird calls and a steady, faraway noise, like heavy gusts of wind.

  A mile away, I spot a small spring and dart for it; in the rush of leaving the Institute and my negligence of basic human needs, I forgot the necessity of water.

  Lorna gulps greedily, only pausing to wash her wound as I survey our surroundings. Back at the Institute, the only view from the west was the seemingly endless grounds, and from the east, a deathly cliff edge before nothing but miles of ocean. Lorna had once suggested that the Institute might be on an island, I'm starting to think she may have been right. I cast my senses out for any signs of Immortal presence, but there's no-one trailing us so far. 'D'you think they've noticed we're gone yet?' Lorna asks, reading my mind.

  'I doubt it,' I pause. 'Unless Lucrezia's told Sir Alec.' Lorna throws me an apprehensive glance. Lucrezia is Malachy's twin sister – a
nd my Immortal enemy. With an apparent hatred of anyone she deems beneath her, Lucrezia had detested me from the beginning, but, after catching me leaving Malachy's room one night, she'd seen it as her mission in life to get rid of me – just as she'd done with Malachy's last girlfriend, Aleks Anzhela.

  Lucrezia had caught Lorna and I escaping, but rather than raise the alarm like I thought she would, she allowed us to continue, banking on us getting caught and being thrown into the Confine, saving her the trouble.

  As Lorna and I journey on, the puny shoots give way to a blanket of clovers, leading down into a steep valley winding a path through the green mountains on either side. I tread lightly over rocks and puddles until I'm running alongside a narrow stream, snaking all the way around the tallest mountain. The incessant, faraway sound gradually grows louder and I realise that it isn't the wind, it's water, crashing onto the rocks. As we round the mountain and halt on a steep, sloping hill, the ocean rises into view, stretching on beyond the drop of cliffs up ahead.

  'I was right,' Lorna sniffs behind me. 'An island.'

  I nod, scouting for the most direct route down to the faraway ocean. There are no paths, no roads, no sign of civilisation. The cliffs are steep and slippery and the sky is growing darker. The dense moisture in the air will soon turn to heavy rain. A storm is undoubtedly brewing, and the most sensible thing to do would be to find shelter and wait it out, but that's not an option. We need to get off this island now, before Sir Alec realises we're gone.

  Lorna's still in pain, and because of this I've been moving deliberately slow – half the speed I'm capable of. But we need to beat this storm, and the Immortals chasing us.

  'I need to run,' I muse, more to myself than her but she nods regardless. 'I mean I need to really run.' I clarify.

  'I know,' she nods again, taking a breath. 'Just do it.' An unidentifiable, faint sound behind us makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I tense, whipping around to source it, almost knocking Lorna off. It could have been the wind, it could have been a twig snapping or a frog jumping into the stream – it was too far away for me to determine – and the chances of my senses failing to pick up on a tail are slim. But I'm not taking any risks; some Immortals are gifted.

  'Cover your mouth.' I bark, tightening my grip on Lorna's thighs. She does as she's told, pulling her jumper up to cover her nose and mouth, and I set off, travelling at speeds not possible of a human. If the movement hurts Lorna, she doesn't show it, not letting out a single squeak as I tear across the rocks. My eyes see what Lorna's don't; which rocks are damp and slippery and where the mud is too thick to traverse. It's thanks to my vision, and my sharp reactions, that I can decide with such precision where to place my feet. The seconds slow down as I study the ground, giving me time to change my step if I choose the wrong one.

  After what feels like an hour, I glance up to gauge the distance, and realise we're still miles from the edge of the island. I groan loudly, kicking the rock nearest my foot. 'It's too far.' I growl, my impatience threatening to spill over into panic.

  'There.' Lorna points suddenly and I follow her line of sight to a small dip between two mountains. The natural path at their base seems to wind around one of the hills, leading out to the ocean. I head for it, picking up speed with the prospect that we're almost off the island. Halfway down the path, the earth becomes water-logged, squelching uncomfortably beneath my boots. I trudge through it, rounding the mountain until eventually, I'm up to my knees in sea water.

  Finally, as the hulk of rock moves out of view, the ocean emerges in plain sight. We stand in a crevice between the two mountains, allowing water to flow freely into the valleys behind us. But out there, where we're headed, there's not a scrap of land in sight. 'What now?' Lorna asks breathlessly, even though she didn't do the running. I feel a surge of irritation. This was her plan, her area of 'expertise' – I should have known that I'd end up being the one to put the puzzle pieces together.

  'Don't have a lot of options, do we?' I ask through gritted teeth. 'We're going to have to swim out.'

  'In that?' Lorna asks incredulously, pointing to the ocean lapping angrily at the cliff's edge. The storm is almost brewed, the sky almost black, and the sea is fierce and hungry.

  'Yes,' I spit. 'I can't conjure a boat out of thin air.'

  'But – ' Lorna gulps. 'My leg.' I can see her point, no matter how irritated I am. We knew this was a long-shot, that we might not even make it a mile before being captured or worse. But we didn't foresee injury – at least not so early in our journey. It seems impossible that we might cross the ocean in the middle of a storm with Lorna practically bleeding out.

  It probably is.

  'It'll be okay,' I reply automatically, though I'm almost sure I'm lying. I did what I could with what little resources I had, but even still, Lorna's wound is badly held together with a thread of cotton from my jumper, and stitch holes pierced with my sharp nails. 'The sea will clean it.' I tell her, neglecting to mention that the ferocity of the waves will also more than likely tear it apart again.

  How long does it take a human to bleed to death? Not long, I'd imagine. And once we're in the water, I can't stop to help her. But Lorna knew the risks from the outset, she told me herself she'd rather die trying to escape the Institute than remain at the beck and call of Sir Alec. I only hope she meant it. 'Ready?' I ask her. She nods once, but her body starts to shake, and not from the cold. 'Is the money secure?' I jerk my head to the black backpack hanging from Lorna's shoulders. It contains 50,000 Euros, left to her by her mother before Sir Alec changed her.

  'It's protected.' Lorna squeaks.

  'Whatever you do, don't let go of that bag.' I warn her. Taking a deep breath, I twist my head to give her one last false smile. I know in my heart that she probably won't make this – I think I knew that all along.

  I step into the water, wading out until the cliffs crumble beneath my feet and we drop into nothing but cold, salty ocean. Lorna gasps as the temperature hits her, but keeps her grip firm on my shoulders. It would be difficult to swim in these waters without Lorna on my back, even with my extra abilities; the sea is unpredictable and strong, taking us out with it, away from the mountains. But this actually aids me, and I don't bother to swim for the first ten minutes apart from to steer us straight. 'You okay?' I call over the small, hissing waves. Lorna doesn't reply, but she nods her damp head.

  Away from the base of the cliffs and the mountains, the sea calms a little and the force pushing us out dies down. I duck my head under and begin to swim, keeping near the surface so that Lorna remains above. I can do this for a long time as I don't need to breathe, and I can swim fast, though not at full speed with a human on my back. For a while we cut efficiently through the water, only pausing to see if any land has emerged up ahead.

  'Nothing yet!' Lorna calls, shivering on my back. Her teeth are chattering loudly and her grip is slackening but I press on encouragingly. Below the surface swim schools of fish, brightly coloured and darting through the calm waters way down.

  It has occurred to me that the nearest land could be thousands of miles away, and that we might be stuck in the ocean for days. If this scenario plays out, then Lorna will undoubtedly die. But she knows this, she has to know it, and be prepared for it.

  The sky is almost as black as night and raindrops begin to patter down on my skin, cold and fresh. Lorna opens her mouth and darts around, trying to catch them on her tongue. She doesn't need to jump about for long, though, as a sudden downpour falls in sheets from the sky. Lightening cracks overhead, preceding rumbling thunder which rips through the air. I turn to catch a glimpse of Lorna, noting with alarm that her lips have turned blue. Suddenly, her green eyes widen and she shakes her head violently. 'Eve!' She squeaks, pointing to something over my shoulder. I turn just in time to see the giant wave hurtling towards us before it breaks over our heads, smashing down on us like a ton of bricks. The force of the blow knocks us a good few feet below, but Lorna clings tightly to me, kicking he
r feet with me as I head back towards the surface. She gasps greedily as we break through, but only just in time to be knocked back under by another monstrous wave.

  This time, Lorna loses her grip on me and is knocked sideways, her pale fingers groping blindly for something to cling to. I dart quickly to her side and grab her jumper, pulling her back up.

  We've been knocked at least a mile off course and the water is swirling angrily around us, circling like a hungry vulture. The sky is more livid than ever, and the storm only seems to be worsening. Lorna is pale and breathless, her expression twisted in pain.

  'My leg!' She coughs, spewing water. I dart below and grab her leg, peering at it through the murkiness. The stitches have opened and thick blood is turning the surrounding water crimson. There's nothing I can do for her and I return to the surface with a conscious effort to keep my expression calm.

  'It's okay,' I lie. 'It's just a couple of the stitches. It'll be fine.'

  She nods, but I'm not sure she believes me. Another wave knocks us under and I have to grab Lorna's hair in order to keep her from getting lost. She shrieks with pain beneath the water but I can't let go.

  'If this storm doesn't pass soon I'll never make it!' She cries, shrieking above the waves. I know she's right; it won't be too long before the cold catches her, or she can't get her breath, or – the most likely case – she bleeds out.

  'Yes, you will!' I growl. 'Just hold on. Don't let go of me!'