The Institute (12 page)

It’s almost
sunset when I hear a knock at the door, I didn’t even hear the car
pull up.
This is it
. This is what we have been anticipating,
what we have been preparing for. Only when I answer the door, I am
not prepared for what I am faced with. Men in black uniforms storm
in and pin me up against the wall as they spin me off balance and I
face plant into the wall paper. Is my nose broken? From the amount
of pain and blood, I think it must be. They pin my hands behind me
and I feel zip tie restraints fasten around my wrists.

“Allira
Daniels. You are under arrest.”

Chapter
Eight

My screams echo
through the empty halls of my house. Dad will be down the back of
the farm, can he hear me? I am panicking and trying to break free
from the arms that hold me down. I’ve been pushed to the ground and
I have a mouth full of carpet, with someone’s foot in between my
shoulder blades holding me there. I try to struggle free but I know
there’s no use.

I hear someone
say ‘Target secured’.

I’m lifted to
my feet and dragged outside. They throw me into a van but before I
can see any faces, a black cloth bag is placed over my head. I
think of Dad and wonder if they have found him. Did he get away? I
hear the van door slide shut. I can’t tell how many people are in
here with me but we have started moving. I want to ask if Dad is in
here but I don’t want to alert them to him if they haven’t caught
him yet.

I have no idea
where I am being taken. There has been complete silence since I got
thrown in here, I have heard shuffling around and I can feel the
presence of people around me but I can’t tell how many there are. I
sit in silence because I don’t know how much trouble I am in and I
don’t want to dig a deeper hole for myself or my family. The road
is bumpy and I’m finding it hard to keep my balance, having my arms
bound behind my back doesn’t make it easy on me. I thought that
they would take me to the local police station to have me charged
for harbouring a fugitive. Then again, I don’t think being
blindfolded is really needed to do that. I want to ask if the bag
is totally necessary. So what if we have been hiding my brother,
it’s not like I can do them any harm, do they really need to bind
my hands and blindfold me? Am I in a lot more trouble than I first
thought? What will my punishment be? We knew jail time was probably
inevitable if we ever got caught but now I’m scared they may want
to make an example of us for others on the run. I’m trying my
hardest to keep quiet and not let them know how scared I am but
whimpers are echoing through the van and I’m assuming it’s not
coming from one of my captors. I need to calm down. I focus all of
my energy on trying to get the tears to stop. I just focus on my
breathing and try to think of nothing else. I can feel my eyes
drying out and my heart rate slowing, distracting myself is clearly
working well … better than I thought it would actually.

I hear a
commotion in the van. “What did you do that for?” I hear a man’s
voice say. His voice is deep and authoritative. A voice cuts
through from the other side of me, not as deep a voice but it has
to be another man.

“I didn’t do
anything, I swear!” This man’s voice is shaky.

“Quiet down
both of you, we still have a long way to go,” says a woman,
commanding but calm. I wonder if she is in charge of this arrest.
They called it an arrest but it feels more like a kidnapping. I’m
not even wearing shoes. I’m also wearing a tank top and I’m already
getting cold, I didn’t exactly have a chance to grab a jacket on my
way out. I guess it’s lucky I’m wearing jeans and not a skirt or
shorts.

I don’t like
how she said ‘we still have a long way to go’. I’m so
disorientated, I have no idea how long I’ve been in here for. Every
time the car slows my heart jumps a beat. On one hand, I want to
hurry up and get to wherever they are taking me, but on the other
hand, when I think about the reality of the situation I hope this
van ride continues forever. My back and shoulders are cramping, I
want to stretch my legs but I don’t want to face what’s coming.

I’m starting to
get really sore sitting in the same spot for this agonisingly long
trip. But when the van finally rolls to a stop and the engine is
killed, I panic –
this is it
. I have to remind myself to
breathe. I’m picked up again by both my arms and dragged out of the
van. The grip on my left arm is excruciatingly tight, again I
wonder if it is really necessary. Whoever is holding my right arm
has a firm hold but at least I’m not getting searing pain shooting
up to my shoulder.

We continue
walking and I can hear the echo of footsteps, we must be inside
now. I hear a series of quick buzzing noises but I have no idea
what they are or where they are coming from. I finally feel the
release of the death grip on my arms. The bag over my head is
removed and the zip ties binding my hands together are cut and
that’s when I hear a door click closed behind me. I’m in a tiny,
square room. There’s a mirror to my left and a table with two
chairs in front of me. That’s it, there isn’t anything else. Where
am I? The first thing I want to do is stretch out my arms and back.
My shoulders feel like they weigh a ton and I have a burning pain
in the middle of my back. I don’t sit down, I feel like I’ve been
sitting for hours, so I just pace back and forth trying to get the
aches out of my body. I wonder how long they will keep me waiting
in here. I wonder where I am.

Two men come
through the door and I know I should be frightened, but I’m not.
I’m actually feeling quite calm. I’d expect my heart to be racing,
but it’s not.

“Now Miss
Daniels. Where would you like to start?” one of the men say, as he
gestures for me to sit. I really want to reply that I want to start
by plucking his monobrow. It’s hard to concentrate while staring at
such an impressive receding hairline matched with very bushy
eyebrows. I blame Ebbodine for me even thinking about this during
such a serious moment.

They obviously
know that we are aware of Shilah’s ability but how much do they
know? I think I should continue to play the denial card, like we
had planned for when they were meant to come and question us. I
take a seat, acting nonchalant and I hope that I am pulling it
off.

“Where am I?” I
ask.

“Going to play
that game are we?” the same man replies while he takes the other
seat across from me.

The guy in the
doorway still hasn’t said anything, what is he even doing here? It
seems to me he is just here to watch. He looks like he has done
this a thousand times, his eyes look heavy behind his thick
glasses.

“What game is
that?” I reply.

“Trust me when
I say Miss Daniels, I can play at this longer and better than you
can.” What does he want me to say? There’s no way I’m going to give
any information without knowing how much they know first –
something my father always told me to do if we ever got caught.

“What do you
want to know?”

“How about you
tell me when you first found out you are Defective?”

This pulls me
right out of my act. Me? Defective? They’ve got their information
wrong. My heart has started racing and I can feel it skipping
beats. It feels like my chest is going in two different directions.
I’m suddenly not so calm anymore.

“What are you
talking about? I am not Defective!” I can hear myself yelling the
words while gasping for air. They have it all wrong. I can feel my
heart rate slowing again and then getting faster. Is this what a
heart attack feels like?

For the first
time the man standing at the door speaks. “It’s not working
anymore, she’s too strong. Pull back, pull back!” And just like
that, I’m in the room alone again.

I stay sitting
at the table, gobsmacked. I have this all wrong. They haven’t
arrested me because I have been hiding Shilah, they have arrested
me because they think
I am
Defective. I must be at the
Institute, I’ve been arrested for not turning myself in, but I’m
not Defective! I put my head down on the table and try to catch my
breath.

***

I don’t know
how long I have I had my head down for when I start wondering if
someone is coming back for me. The door clicks open but I don’t
even bother lifting my head, what’s the point? Right now I’m
thinking about those apartments we are shown every year on our
tour, they have a shower and a bed and that sounds really good to
me. Someone steps behind me and bounds my arms together again. I
don’t even fight it. When I look up, the same man that was asking
me questions is sitting back down in the chair across from me and
there is a new person standing at the door. He’s taller and a lot
more bulky than the last guy. His bicep is the same size as my
head. Something tells me I should try and contain my emotions this
time or he will be containing them for me.

“Sorry about
the handcuffs, but if you aren’t willing to tell us the nature of
your defect we can’t be too careful.”

I put my head
back down on the desk and sigh. “I don’t have a defect,” I say,
defeated. I’m starting to think it won’t matter what I say, they
aren’t going to believe me anyway. This is a complete mess.

“That’s not
what your blood test results say,” he responds. I don’t care what a
stupid test says, I am not Defective. “So I will ask again. When
was it that you first found out you are Defective?”

I can feel
myself starting to get angry again. Are we just going to go in
circles all night?

I let out an
even bigger sigh, “I don’t know what I can say to convince you. I
have never had any symptoms, I don’t have any special abilities and
I can’t tell you when I got them because I’ve
never
had
them.” I say this next part very slowly and carefully so I can get
my point across, “I am not Defective.” There is silence and hope is
beginning to grow inside me that he may actually believe me.

“Would you like
to tell us how you saved two boys from a fiery car crash just a
month ago?” My head snaps up quickly. That was only a month ago? It
seems like a lifetime has passed since then. I don’t answer because
I don’t exactly know how to. They couldn’t know that I dragged Drew
out of the car, could they? “Miss Daniels, I suggest you start
talking soon. You won’t be going anywhere until you give us some
answers.” I put my head back on the desk. “Right, okay then,” he
says. I look up to see that he is leaving the room but he pauses
just as he passes the tall man, “Do it.”

Monobrow
continues to walk out and just before I have the chance to ask him
what exactly it is the tall man is meant to do, he crosses the room
and I feel the burn of a backhanded slap across my face.

The word pain
is not enough to describe what I am feeling. The power of his hand
was so forceful, I felt my neck jolt from the momentum behind it. I
didn’t know it was possible to feel burning, stinging and numbness
all at the same time. Did he really only hit me with his hand? My
hands are still cuffed so I’m trying to soothe my skin by pressing
it into my shoulder.

I don’t know
what this is supposed to accomplish, I don’t feel like talking any
more than I did five minutes ago. In fact, I would love nothing
more than to keep my mouth shut forever – I will not be bullied
into admitting a lie.

“Are you ready
to talk yet?” It’s the first time I have heard this man’s voice.
It’s rough and deep, and also the most terrifying voice I have ever
heard, or maybe it was just the words that were spoken. What is
going to happen if I say no?

I don’t think
muscles is a very patient man. Before I can say anything, he is
raising his hand and striking me again. Same cheek, same brute
force behind the hit. Although, it doesn’t seem as painful this
time. It hurts, yes, but maybe some of the nerve endings must be
numb from the first hit. My face is aching, I don’t know how many
more hits I can take. My plan of just keeping my mouth shut isn’t
going to work, especially now looking at the possibility of
experiencing that slap yet again. I’m willing to make up a defect
to admit to just to avoid it. I guess that’s how this bullying
tactic works.

I sit as still
as I can and await any more abuse that’s headed my way when I hear
the door click open again, now the Monobrow man is back.

“Change of
heart yet, Miss Daniels?”

“I don’t know
how to say it any other way. I wish I had something to tell you but
I don’t. I wish I knew what you wanted from me but I don’t.” I’m
pleading with them to believe me, why won’t they just believe
me?

“What
are
you willing to talk about Miss Daniels? Your brother?” I
have to be strong. Don’t break now and give Shilah away, although
it’s pretty obvious they know.

“No.” I say it
as firmly as I can but I could hear the break in my voice.

“Your
boyfriend?” This pulls me out of my stupor. How do they even
know?

My eyes dart
towards the door when I hear it open, Drew is being dragged in by
the man who just hit me. They found them.

“Drew!” I cry
out. I see him try to break the grip Muscles has on him to try and
get over to me, but he is pulled back and is being restrained by
his arm. Monobrow tells him to release Drew. Drew rushes over to me
and throws his arms around me. I wish I could reciprocate but I’m
still handcuffed.

“I’m sorry, I’m
so sorry,” he says as he cradles my face.

“Ah, Mr.
Stanley
,” he emphasises Drew’s name like it is entertaining
to watch this scene play out right in front of him. “Would you like
to fill me in on Miss Daniels’ defect?” Drew looks as surprised as
I did, he looks at me with searching eyes.

“Allira, just
tell them. If you have a defect, just tell them.”