The Institute (9 page)

“I’m sorry,” I
say before going silent. Dad gets up and is about to walk out when
my stupid mouth feels the need to defend Drew. “But it’s not like
it’s any different to having Ebbodine over here.”

“With Ebbodine,
you don’t have her hands trying to get into your pants and no
hormones clouding your judgment!”

“I promise I
won’t let Drew do that. We are just spending time together because
we’ve both been through similar stuff lately. That’s all, I
promise.” I feel horrible lying to Dad about how I feel about Drew,
but he would never let me go out with him otherwise.

“Just be
careful Allira,” Dad says as he walks out.

***

I roll over in
my bed and stare out my window. The sky is still dark grey, the sun
not yet ready to come out of hiding. I can see a band of orange
light, brightening up the horizon as the day prepares to awaken. I
wish I could have got more sleep.

I stop by
Shilah’s room before heading to the train station.

“Are you ready
for today?” I ask him.

“Yes, are
you
ready? I swear Allira, you’re more nervous about going
to the Institute than I am.” He always seems so relaxed about
going. If I were Defective, the Institute is the last place I would
want to go.

“I know, I’m
sorry. I just worry about you. I’d hate to lose you and have to
turn your room into my very own personal walk in wardrobe,” I smirk
at him.

Humour is a
pretty bad defence mechanism to have, especially when you don’t
exactly have the right sarcastic tone and a lot of the time people
can’t tell if you’re being serious or joking. Shilah just shakes
his head and nudges me with his elbow as he walks out of the room
though. He knows I’m only teasing.

Drew and I
arrive at school and the buses are lined up out the front. We go
stand in line and wait to be herded onto them like cattle.

Drew and I
spend the entire trip in silence. I feel sick to my stomach as I do
every year. Drew seems as on edge as I do, although I don’t know
why. The trip takes longer than usual, well it feels like it
anyway. The journey has no fresh scenery the whole way, it’s a real
stunning view of concrete and then desolate dry land for as far as
the eye can see.

I start to
think of other places I would rather be right now: the dentist for
one. You have to go to the city to get into a dentist, I’ve only
ever been once when I needed a filling and it scared the life out
of me. Since then I have vigorously brushed my teeth twice,
sometimes even three times a day. I can still hear the sound of the
tiny little drill. I run my tongue along my teeth and I swear I can
still feel the pain. But I would much rather be going to the
dentist today instead. I would also rather be getting something
that Ebbodine calls a ‘pedicure’. I remember one summer she made me
catch the train into the city just so we could experience one. I
had to save two weeks allowance to afford it and then they started
poking and prodding my feet like it was meant to relax me, I
couldn’t believe I spent money on what I would class a very real
form of torture. Even so, I would prefer this to going to the
Institute. I would rather be taking an exam right now, or getting
up in front of the whole school to perform a speech. I’d even
prefer being dunked in a pool than going to the Institute, which,
for me, is massive.

After an
excruciating long two hours, we arrive at the Institute. The estate
from the outside looks like a haven; a charming white brick fence
surrounds the perimeter, tall palm trees line the driveway and
there is a green meadow beyond that. As we reach the end of the
driveway, the grounds are well maintained and as it is every year,
it’s all spotless and pristine. It really does look like a peaceful
place. I don’t know why it gives me the creeps but it does. The
buses drive through the gates one at a time, drop the kids off and
then come back out so the next bus can enter. It takes a while but
eventually we are all standing at the entrance to the main
building. We are led into the main foyer and are welcomed as usual
by the director, Mr. Brookfield. The main foyer has high ceilings
and is big enough to fit all 200 kids from our school. The building
kind of reminds me of a church, minus the pews and awful stained
glass windows. The complete right hand side of the building is
floor to ceiling glass which overlooks a tranquil garden with a
pond and a trickling fountain. I know I should find that inviting
but my gaze is always drawn to the left where there is an emergency
exit. I fantasise about walking out nearly every time I’m here.

“Welcome
students, welcome.” Mr. Brookfield seems remarkably upbeat today. I
can feel myself scowling at him, I don’t have the energy for upbeat
today. “Well we have some very exciting news today. As you all
know, this facility was built to protect those who are different.
We are a centre to help and comfort those who really need it. Those
who are confused and scared about what they have become can seek
shelter and support and successful treatment here. I cannot stress
this enough, we are here to help.” This isn’t the normal speech
given each year on the tour, I’ve heard it so many times I could
probably do it myself. This year, it’s different and I suddenly
become very aware that they have us all in a locked room with no
escape. I don’t like it and that emergency exit is looking very
enticing. “We, here at the Institute, are always striving to find
the best possible way to treat those who come through our doors and
although the law states that anyone who discovers they are
Defective must be treated at the Institute, we understand many may
be hesitant about coming forward. This is why we developed these
annual tours for all people of school age so we can show you that
this is indeed the best and only place for them. With that in mind,
I am ecstatic to announce that in our medical centre here at the
Institute, we have been able to develop a test that will tell us
who of you are genetically prone to developing a defect. This is
not brand new technology, but we have been able to tweak a testing
system that was used many, many years ago. It’s the technology that
aided in the cure of Cataclysm Fever. Before the vaccine against
this disease was invented – which is now administered to everyone
at birth – doctors could use a simple blood test to determine
whether someone was a carrier. We have taken this research and
combined it with what science we already know about the genetic
makeup of those who are Defective. I am more than pleased to
announce that today is the beginning of a new era and the beginning
of help for some of you young people out there.” He pauses,
surveilling the room with a smile that freezes my blood. “We will
be administering blood tests to all here today.”

There’s a large
gasping sound and then the room falls silent. Everybody is looking
around at one another; confusion, worry and fear show on everyone’s
faces. My first instinct is to run to Shilah but I can’t even see
where he is, there’s too many people. I look at Drew and notice he
is staring straight ahead with a blank look on his face.

“Drew,” I
whisper hoping no one else can hear me. “Are you okay?” You can
hear the panic in my voice. He doesn’t respond. “Drew,” I’m still
whispering but a little louder this time. The room has broken out
into quiet, hushed chatter.

He looks down
at me, his eyes wide and cold, “Everything will be okay. We have a
few days to get everything sorted. It is okay. Shilah will be okay.
I promise.” He sounds so panicked his words don’t even sink in
right away. Shilah? How does he–? He grabs me by the shoulders,
shaking me lightly as if to bring me out of my shocked daze. “Not
now, I’ll explain later. Don’t tell them anything, just act normal.
You can start by wiping that look off your face. It will be okay,
everything will be okay. You hear me?”

His head is so
close to mine I can feel his warm breath on my face. I nod in
acknowledgement to stop him from gripping my shoulders so tightly.
He kisses me on my forehead, embraces me and I don’t want to let
him go.

If I wasn’t
confused before the end of Mr. Brookfield’s speech, I certainly am
now. I feel my head spinning like I have been hit with an overload
of information and my brain is not working quick enough to process
it. Drew lets go of me but grabs my hand and holds it tight. As the
reality of what has just happened settles in, I am not sure if I
want to hold his hand but I fear if I let it go I might collapse.
Has he known about Shilah this whole time?
Why didn’t he say
anything?

They start
dividing us into our tour groups. What did Drew tell me to do
again? Right, act normal. I’m not sure I can manage it but I will
try. All I really want to do right now is get out of here.

Someone else
across the room must have been feeling the same way because
suddenly there is a big commotion coming from near one of the
emergency exits. I try to see what is going on but there are people
pushed up against me, all trying to get a glimpse and I can’t see
over their heads. All I can hear is a girl screaming.

“Stop! Stop!
Let me go!” She’s wailing so loudly I think the whole hall can hear
her.

A voice comes
from the microphone, “Everyone sit!” Everyone finds a spot on the
floor to sit down. I follow suit and sit and that’s when I see her.
She is a young girl, probably Shilah’s age. I’m not sure if I
recognise her, but she kind of looks familiar; I have probably seen
her around school. She is being dragged out by two men in medical
scrubs while she continues to scream and kick her legs trying to
fight them off. They have her hands bound behind her back. I start
to wonder what ability she is hiding. Did she really think she
would have been able to escape? I know I found those exits
tempting, but logically how far could I have gone? Maybe she has an
ability that could have helped her escape if she was quick enough.
Me, I would be on my own.

Mr. Brookfield
gets back on the stage with the microphone in his hand. “Everybody
calm down,” he says. The room is filled with loud conversations and
Mr. Brookfield looks like he is losing patience. “Everyone quiet!”
That stops everybody short. “Now what has been displayed here is
the kind of reaction we had hoped to avoid. You all need to look at
the bigger picture: In a few days you won’t ever have to worry
about what or when your defect might become active or if you have
one at all. That is a good thing. There is no need to panic unless
you have something to hide. I do hope this will be the only upset
we have here today.” The way he said that last sentence sounded
more like a demand than a hope. I wonder what will happen to the
girl now. Her poor parents! They sent their daughter to school one
day and she never returned.

The rest of the
tour sticks to the usual plan. We’re taken in our groups of twenty
and shown the rest of the grounds. We are always shown the
hospital, accommodation, library, and the dining hall but it
depends on which group you’re in as to what order you are shown
them. Today our group is going to be going to the hospital last,
where the blood tests will be done. I kind of wish we could get it
out of the way first, seeing as there’s no way of getting out of
it. I can only think about the size of the needle I will be faced
with later.

The
accommodations we are shown are small but seem pretty comfortable.
There are no bars like in a prison but just the thought of having
to live here makes me feel trapped. In reality, it is just like a
studio apartment that you’d find in the city. There’s a double bed,
a small dining table and a private bathroom. There is no kitchen as
all meals are provided – food is delivered to the rooms or supplied
at the cafeteria, which is our next stop.

When we get
there, I can’t stomach the thought of food and just get a bottle of
water. Supposedly we are eating in the same cafeteria that the
Defective eat in, but in all the years of coming here I’ve never
seen anyone else in this room. I guess they can’t have ‘dangerous’
defectives, mingling with innocent students.

After we have
finished our lunch, we are taken to the library which is apparently
also the ‘school’. Because defects are generally discovered before
the age of eighteen, the majority of new people here at the
Institute are still of school age. Again, in all the years of
coming here I have never seen anyone in the library.

I feel like we
have just rushed through the tour today but looking at my watch we
are pretty much on schedule. Maybe it’s because I haven’t been
listening to anything the guide is saying. I’ve been too worried
about what’s coming, about what Drew said and about what will
happen to Shilah. I wish I knew where his group was, have they had
their test yet?

The guide
brings us into a long hallway in the hospital with ten chairs lined
up on each side. We are instructed to sit and wait until we are
called into the room where the blood test will be administered.
Everyone sits in silence. I can’t bring myself to look at anyone so
I pick a spot on the floor and just stare at it. Drew, who is next
to me, gives me a nudge.

“Your turn,” I
hear him say. I get up slowly and make my way down the hall, my
legs feel weak like they could go out from underneath me at any
moment. I pull myself together and walk into the room and take a
seat where they tell me to. The room is cold and sterile, it is
completely white and smells like cleaning solvent.

“Just before we
take any blood today, we need to get a few details down,” a woman’s
voice states. She looks mid-thirties and has very curly bleached
blonde hair. Her makeup is poorly applied and caked on her face. I
try to feel sorry for her but I am too worried about what questions
she might ask me. I can’t refuse to answer. If I do, won’t that
raise more suspicion and incriminate myself and my family? “Okay,
I’m going to need your name and date of birth please.”