The Institute (Falling Ash Chronicles #1)

by Kira Lynn Farnsworth

  I flinched when Tim came to his feet, his chair scraping against the ground. The chains that were supposed to be binding him fell from his wrists and clattered to the table, the shackles open. He reached over the table, seizing my wrists and pinning them to the table.

  How had he gotten loose? Fear came over me in waves. I felt pressure in my chest, like a hard weight settling over my lungs leaving me gasping for breath. I was glued to my chair, unable to break free from the hold he had on me.

  “Let me go. Please,” I begged. I had never felt terror like this, not even the night my parents died. It clawed at my chest, threatening to overwhelm me.

  “No! You need to see! You need to see what they’ve done!” His words sent shivers wracking down my spine. I felt him push past my barriers, his powers slithering beneath my skin. His face morphed; one moment I was staring at Tim, the next at Canda, then my parents. I cursed, realizing what his powers were. He was an Illusionist. None of this was real. Even knowing that, I couldn’t escape from his hold.

  The walls around us started to shake and crumble, then started to rebuild into a city street. Skyscrapers shot up towards a sky that was so bright and blue it hurt my eyes. Hundreds of people walked past, going about their daily lives. There were Specials and Normal’s alike, walking side by side. They were indistinguishable. It had to be the time before the Discovery.

  Then it changed. The Specials were Discovered. There was fear, alarm. The city streets Tim had built started to fall apart, the skyscrapers disappearing to be replaced by farmland and fields. Abandoned buildings in various states of decay spotted the countryside. Specials were gathered and herded into the dilapidated buildings, locked in cages similar to dog kennels. The Normal’s set fire to the buildings, their voices rising in triumph over the screams of the dying.

  That was how my parents died, how I nearly died, trapped in a fire. I remembered the smoke filling my lungs, the coughing, the terrifying knowledge I was going to die. Had they felt the same way? Helpless, trapped?

  I shuddered, trying to pull my hands away. Why was he showing me this? This wasn’t what had happened. This wasn’t what they had taught us. There had been peace, acceptance, until the resistant Rogues started popping up and ruining things. This wasn’t the truth. It couldn’t be.

  “Stop it!” I cried. I was startled to realize that my cheeks were wet with tears, more steadily falling. Tim shook his head, his grip tightening.

  “This is nothing,” he spat out, his voice rough. He coughed, droplets of blood coming from his mouth. “This is only…. one small portion of what they’ve done to us… are still doing to us.” He sucked in a breath, his lungs making a sound I well recognized; the death rattle.

  “You have to stop,” I cried. “You’re killing yourself!”

  “They’ve tortured us, killed us, all because we frighten them,” he said, ignoring my pleas. His hands still gripped mine, but they were weakening. “You need to know. You need to see!” He gathered himself, thrusting past my resistance.

  I saw the Institute, its creation, built by the same men who laid siege against the Specials. There were experiments, testing the limits to their powers, pushing them until they found their weaknesses. The experiments were brutal, more often than not killing the Specials involved. The bodies of the dead were piled up and burned, tossed aside like yesterday's trash.

  I squeezed my eyes shut against the images he showed me, but it did no good. They were seared into my mind, ingrained in the back of my eyelids. Their eyes, wide open and staring, frozen in terror. Hundreds, thousands even, gone.

  “You aren’t safe,” he said, his voice seeming to come from far away. I felt myself shaking, no longer fighting to pull away. The images, no, memories, had a clear message. The Institute was built not as a sanctuary, but as a prison, created to repress and destroy the Specials. Anyone seen as a threat was treated as a terrorist and eliminated. There was no judge, jury, or trial, just death.

  Those were the missions, to hunt down the Specials. It wasn’t to protect the people; it was to oppress those with powers. It couldn’t be true. It wasn’t true.

  “It’s not true,” I sobbed. “None of this is true,” I cried. Tim sank down into his seat, blood now trickling from his nose, his ears. The scene changed for what I knew would be the final time. Tim couldn’t hold up much longer. He created a room, an office. Tim, past Tim, paced, raking his hands through his hair. There was another man in the room with him, shrouded in shadows.

  “She was innocent,” Tim, the one from the memory, cried. “They killed her, a Normal. She was supposed to be protected, safe…”

  “No one is safe, Tim, not any longer,” his companion said. A shiver ran down my spine. I knew I couldn’t know him, and yet there was a sense of familiarity. Maybe it was just because I’d seen people like him, people in a position of power. He carried himself with authority.

  “How can they get away with this? They took her from me. They took everything,” Tim, memory Tim, broke down sobbing. The current Tim’s expression bore an identical expression of grief. His body was starting to shake. He was fighting a losing battle, warring against the Neutralizer’s power.

  “You have been targeted, my friend,” the shadow man said. “They will come for you. Be ready. It’s time. Find Elsabeth. Bring her home,” he said, his voice brooking no argument.

  The images started to fade, bringing the interrogation room back into focus. His hold was starting to break. I could see the Neutralizer and Bruiser starting to move, each movement exaggeratedly slow as though they were moving through quicksand. I felt a moment of relief, hoping they would be able to stop him before he was permanently harmed.

  “Your sacrifice has been noted,” the man said solemnly. His shadowed face lingered even as the rest of the office disappeared, at last slipping away like wisps of smoke. Sacrifice? What sacrifice?

  “Tell no one,” Tim whispered urgently. His gaze never lost its fevered intensity, even as his hands slipped away from me, releasing me. Blood was starting to fall from his eyes, leaving a trail like tears. “Prepare … yourself,” he gasped out. “Falling…. Ash….” His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he slipped from his chair, crashing to the ground.

  Everything zoomed back into focus. Someone screamed; I was startled to realize it was me. Arms wrapped around me from behind, jerking me back and away from the table, sending my chair toppling. The Bruiser stopped mid rush, looking bemused to find his quarry lying still on the floor. The Neutralizer knelt next to him, pressing two fingers to his neck. I already knew what he would find, even before he looked up and solemnly shook his head.

  Tim was dead.

  Chapter 8

  “What the hell just happened?” Erik shouted.

  I could have said something, anything. Instead I stared numbly at Tim’s hand, lying palm up on the ground. It was all I could see from where I stood. Erik still held on to me, his body twisted so that he was between me and Tim. It was an oddly protective gesture, one I might have appreciated under different circumstances. As it was, I knew it didn’t make a difference. Tim wasn’t a danger to anyone anymore.

  “It all happened in a flash. When did he get free of his cuffs?” the Bruiser asked. The door burst open, Meredith and Ezekiel filling the entrance. They both stopped, looking at the body lying on the floor. Meredith pursed her lips, quickly taking charge.

  “Get her out of here. Move the body, use the back halls. We need to contain this before rumors start spreading. As far as anyone knows he attempted to attack one of you and we had to take extreme measures. Move!” she barked. Erik dragged me towards the door, practically having to lift me off my feet to get me moving. I forced my legs into a scissoring motion, shaking off the strange buzzing in my head. Tim was dead. He came here to die.

  Erik propped me up on one of the chairs inside the mission hall, kneeling in front of me and rubbing my hands between his. I felt him, saw him, but couldn’t draw myself to acknowledge him. I couldn’t process
everything I’d seen, everything I’d heard.

  What was the truth? The foundation of everything I knew, thought I knew, had just been shaken. Was it true, any of it? Or had it been made up as a ruse to manipulate me? He was, had been, an Illusionist. That’s what those with his power did, distort reality and twist it until their victim was left vulnerable.

  “Be careful who you trust.” The Soothsayer's words came back to me. Was this what he meant? Not to trust Tim? But it had felt like the truth. It felt like memories, reshaped into a message for me. I clenched my fists, feeling shivers wracking my body.

  “Ells,” Erik said, firmly enough I knew it hadn’t been for the first time. I lifted my eyes to his, forcing myself to focus. “Ells, I need you to tell me what he did to you. Did he hurt you?” Erik asked.

  “No,” I croaked, clearing my throat before trying again. “No. He didn’t. He’s dead, isn’t he,” I whispered.

  “Yes,” Erik said, looking angry. “He’s dead. If he wasn’t, I swear…..” He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “You were under my protection and I failed you,” he said.

  “It’s not your fault,” I said, staring down at his bent head. I was baffled by his reaction. He always seemed so distant, like he held himself separate. To see him like this, I didn’t know how to handle it.

  The door opened, Meredith exiting. Erik came to his feet, his usual implacable expression back in place. Meredith barely spared him a glance, her attention on me.

  “That was quite an ordeal. No one quite seems to know what happened. Is there anything you saw that could shed some light on this for us?” she asked.

  “It was all a blur,” I said truthfully. Then I did something I’d never done before: I lied. “It all happened so fast. One minute he was chained, the next second he was dead.”

  “That’s disappointing,” Meredith said, her shrewd eyes studying my face. “Were you able to get anything from him?” she asked. I raised my head, catching her gaze. I needed to watch her expression, see if she revealed anything. See if there was any reason I should doubt the Institute.

  “He didn’t do it,” I said. Anger flashed in her eyes, then disappointment. She wanted him to be guilty, or she wanted me to believe he was. I didn’t know which. I wrapped my arms protectively around myself.

  “If he didn’t, did he know who did?” she asked impatiently.

  “No,” I lied. He thought he did. I didn’t dare voice what Tim had told me. Not until I had a chance to process it, decide what I believed. Meredith nodded shortly.

  “I’m sure you understand the degree of sensitivity this situation must be handled with. Can I trust you not to say anything?” she asked. Why did I get the feeling that whatever I said next would define my fate? I met her gaze straight on, adapting an innocuous gaze.

  “Of course. I won’t say anything.”

  “Good girl. You should get back to class. Cho, I will need your report on my desk within the hour. We’re going to make sure this can never happen again.” She spun on her heel, marching back towards the room.

  “Does this have to do with the mole?” I called after her, then bit my lip. Meredith tensed, then slowly turned back around toward me.

  “Excuse me?” Ice slid down my spine, but it was too late to take back my question.

  “The mole,” I repeated.

  “Where did you hear about a mole?” Meredith asked.

  “Chardonnay and Sarah were talking....” Meredith mumbled under her breath. I was almost certain she said “Jeremy”.

  “You shouldn’t take such stock in foundless rumors, Elsabeth. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, ma’am, but….”

  “No buts. That is the end of this conversation. Go back to class.” She waited until I bowed my head to turn away again, disappearing through the door. Erik laid his hand on my shoulder.

  “Get some rest, Ells. You’ve been through quite an ordeal. We’ll talk again in the morning.” I nodded, shoulders slumped as I shuffled towards the door. By the time I glanced back Erik had already disappeared.

  I should have made my way back to the class, instead finding myself in the library. I knew the minute I went off course it was noted by one of the sentries that monitored the cameras. There was no such thing as playing hookie here. I only hoped that they’d have pity on me and let me be. I desperately needed a moment to clear my head.

  I idly perused the shelves, not really noting any of the titles. I was preoccupied by my thoughts. By the time class ended I was no closer to deciding who or what I believed. I left the library, trying to blend in as I followed the rest of the students towards the cafeteria.

  My stomach rumbled, reminding me I had missed lunch again. It was starting to get into a bad habit. I stood in the back of the line, ignoring the curious glances of the students around me. News traveled fast. I grabbed my tray and walked unobtrusively towards the back of the cafeteria.

  For once I was glad for the fact that I normally kept to myself. I wasn’t in the mood to socialize, to face the questions I was sure people were dying to ask me. I knew something they didn’t and that, to their perception, meant I was ahead. I ducked my head, poking at my meal. Hungry as I was, I couldn’t eat.

  Mike set his tray down across from me, awkwardly folding himself onto the bench. I grimaced. With everything that had happened I’d forgotten about Mike, my new found friend. I slouched over my food as he sat down, pushing his glasses up his nose before blinking at me.

  “You missed out at lunch,” Mike said. Startled I’d straightened. I had missed out? Had he not heard about the drama that had happened in the Mission Hall?

  “Oh?” I questioned.

  “Yeah. Chardonnay’s hard drive crashed. She lost all of her work for the past week,” he said, grinning. All innocent, but I saw the devilish gleam in his eyes. I snorted, guessing the ‘accidental’ hard drive crash wasn’t so accidental.

  “Should have backed up her work,” I said.

  “She did,” he said, his lips twitching. “On a USB. Seems it got corrupted.” I gawked incredulously at him.

  “Did she blow a gasket?” I asked.

  “Oh yeah. It was great. You could see steam coming out of her ears,” he said, grinning. I laughed outright, pressing my hand to my stomach at the unexpected release. The pressure I’d been feeling seemed to lift.

  “Divine retribution. It sounds like fate has it out for her,” I said jokingly. Mike laughed.

  We sat for several minutes in companionable silence. I caught him glancing curiously in my direction several times, saw the question in his eyes, but he didn't say anything. Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “Well?” I burst out.

  “Well what?” he asked innocently.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me where I was?”

  “Nope,” he said, startling me for the second time. He shrugged. “I figure you’ll tell me if you want.” I fell silent for a moment longer, thinking on it. It felt nice, having a choice. Not feeling pressured to spill everything. When it came down to it, I realized I wanted to tell him, in spite of Meredith’s warning to the contrary. I wanted to tell somebody the truth, at least the parts I felt safe sharing. I still wasn’t ready to divulge what Tim had shown me. I wasn’t sure if I ever would be.

  I leaned in, gesturing for him to do the same. I didn’t want the little ears around me to listen in. I started to talk, beginning with reliving Canda’s death. Mike nodded and listened, breaking in every now and then to ask a question or for clarification. When I finished talking he sat back, a contemplative expression on his face.

  “It’s too much of a coincidence not to be connected,” Mike said. “First there’s talk about a mole, and now our targets know they’re targets practically before we do.”

  “My thoughts exactly. Something’s going on and I for one want to know what,” I said. The screens on the other side of the room flickered on, halting the conversations around the room. That was unusual. The screens normally never turned on in the
evening. I straightened in my seat, twisting to view the screen. Meredith’s grim visage filled the screen. Erik stood just behind her to the right, Ezekiel to the left.

  “Attention, students. I’m sure many of you have heard rumors of the mole at the Institute,” Meredith said. The chatter around me rose, then fell again when loud ‘shushes’ came from several of the students. “It has been confirmed that we do have a traitor in our midst. They claimed their first victim this afternoon.”

  You could have heard a pin drop. Every student was paying rapt attention to the screen, waiting for the rest of Meredith’s message. I know we all had one question on our mind: who was the victim?

  “A group of our students were ambushed. Three were critically injured. One of them, Sarah Chandler, was killed.”

  A stunned silence fell over the cafeteria, broken by a shriek. Our heads swiveled as one to see Chardonnay stand up. Shock and grief passed over her face before she spun around, fleeing the dining room.

  I could have sworn I saw tears in her eyes. I fought the urge to go after her, reminding myself she wouldn’t want my company. She didn’t like me, wouldn’t want my sympathy, but no one deserved to lose a friend like this.

  I couldn’t leave her on her own. No matter what she’d said to me, I couldn’t do it. I came to my feet, offering Mike hasty goodbye before I left after her. I heard Meredith continuing her talk behind me, saying something about grief counselors and added security, but pushed it off as I followed Chardonnay out of the room.

  I found her slumped in the hallway just in front of the door that lead to her room. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, her shoulders shaking in muted sobs. When she saw me she angrily wiped the tears from her face, coming to her feet.

  “What? Come to laugh at me? What a sight I must be, the great Chardonnay drawn to tears,” she shot out bitterly.

  “I didn’t…..” I started defensively, then stopped myself. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath before I tried again. “I just came to say I’m sorry. I know how it feels….”