'Don't worry,' I squeeze his hand. 'I'll take care of her. It's what I do.' I give him a small smile before releasing his grip and following Vlad into the hissing surf. The tide is moving fast and it isn't long before we're carried out to sea. The island shrinks behind us, the figures left are little more than a mass of dark colour on the white sand. It's cold in the water without the sun beating down and, once we're a mile out, I submerge myself below it, shivering though my body has no need to. It's a little calmer beneath the surface but the rapid movement of the waves above makes everything murky and discoloured. The large coral reefs that, just a few days ago, looked so vivid and colourful are now barely visible beyond the eerie green murk. Vlad and the others are dark shadows cutting through the water and, despite my heightened eye-sight, I panic that I might lose them.
As we travel further out, the reefs disappear, replaced by a nothingness so empty and dark it frightens me. Every so often something brushes against my side, cold and smooth. I'm surrounded by people, yet here in the vast, silent ocean, I feel totally alone.
After an hour or so, I can do little else but concentrate on not breathing. Time seems to warp until I have no sense of how long we've been swimming or how far we might have come. Suddenly, I feel a rush of movement behind me and I'm swept ten feet forward by a wave beneath the water. Glancing up, I see that the surface is thrashing with such intense speed that even twenty feet down I can feel it. The storm must have erupted. I follow the figures in front of me as they dive lower, trying to avoid it.
Swimming against the storm is harder than I thought; the tides are strong and I fight against them to stay on course. I'm dragged forward a few feet again, but this time the motion is different; a sense of being sucked onwards, like a giant vacuum cleaner has been turned on and, glancing around, I notice I'm not the only one who appears to be in its grasp. Those ahead of me vanish from sight, those behind are suddenly beside me, each looking as baffled – and fearful – as the next. The unknown force begins to grow stronger, pulling me forward. I kick my legs, try to cut my arms through the water, but the magnetic pull is so powerful I can barely move. I'm being dragged off course and I don't have the strength to stay on it. The Rebels around me vanish as a cloud of bubbles separates me from them and, peering through the darkness, I finally realise what's creating the powerful pressure.
A tower of swirling, circling water stretches all the way from the black bottom of the ocean to the surface, dragging everything within a ten mile radius towards it. Like a huge tornado, it pulls us into its vicinity, trying to suck us right into its centre. For the first time since becoming an Immortal, I feel physically powerless – more human. I flail and thrash, trying to swim in the opposite direction, even if it isn't the right direction. I don't know what will happen to me if the tornado does manage to suck me in – after all I can't die – but every fibre of my being is screaming at me to get away from it. I wonder if I swim to the surface will it be calmer, even with the storm raging overhead?
I try to spot the others but I can't see anything. I've lost them and by now I could be miles off course.
I make my decision alone; instead of kicking away from the tornado, I force myself upwards. For every three strokes I manage, the tornado hauls me back two, until it feels like I've been kicking for hours. The force is so strong it's like hands grabbing at my clothes, drawing me back tenaciously. It's only when I turn to gauge my progress that I realise it isn't the tornado grabbing at me, it's Vlad. His black hair is wild amidst the stormy sea, and he tries to communicate with me using his eyes. He's kicking with all his might, keeping himself away from the immense pull, and he uses the hand that isn't grasping my shirt to point up, shaking his head.
I understand his meaning instantly; don't swim to the surface. But if not there, then where? We can't just stay here and wait to be sucked in. He adjusts his hand until he's pointing down, towards the ocean bed, tugging on my bare arm. I shake my head. No way am I going further down, into the blackness and the overwhelming pressure of the storm. But he's insistent, using what little strength he has spare to pull me with him. Finally, I allow him to drag me down into the depths, his skin growing darker with every second. The light above fades and the temperature drops way below freezing until I can't see Vlad at all; the only reassurance I have that he's still there is the ever-present pressure of his fingers on my arm.
I'm panicking so much about my loss of sight that it takes me a long time to realise the pressure isn't so bad down here. The deeper we go, the more it releases us until I can actually swim again, though I daren't for fear of getting lost.
Without being able to see or speak to Vlad, I can't begin to guess what we're supposed to do next. After five minutes, then ten, of waiting there in the blackness, I realise we're waiting for the storm to pass. It could take hours, but what choice do we have? Unknown creatures brush against my arms and legs, scaly, rough, sharp. I jump at each of them, jerking my limbs away. I can't sense them coming at all. Without my sight or my sense of hearing here in the water, I don't seem to be as gifted.
After what feels like an eternity, Vlad tugs on my arm, pulling me up to check on the storm. As we ascend, I feel a slight pressure, but nothing like the dragging sensation from before.
Finally, light filters in and I regain my sight. The ocean is calmer now, more blue than green, and the murkiness that filtered everything has vanished. Around us is nothing but clear, empty sea. There's no sign of the others, or of the tornado that wreaked havoc minutes earlier. Vlad holds up one finger, telling me to wait, and kicks towards the surface, poking his head above to get his bearings. He dives back down with a confident expression and I exhale the breath I've been holding, cursing myself as I do. Now it will be even harder not to breathe in.
Vlad and I swim together, keeping ten or so feet below the surface. He pops up every now and then to check our location, and we keep an eye out for any of the other Rebels. The first night is the worst, when the entire ocean feels like it did down in the depths. The moonlight helps when not shielded by clouds, but when it is, we swim blind.
On the second day, we catch up with a handful of the Rebels we lost. They look immensely relieved to see Vlad, but they can't tell us what happened to the others. That night, we see light well before daybreak. A lucent beam of white shines through the water like a stage light, darting here and there as if looking for something. Instantly, Vlad tugs down, pulling us all with him to the depths. As before, we wait there in the darkness until Vlad pulls us up again. He stares at me for a moment, and it's as if I can hear his thoughts. Law Officers, he's saying, they're looking for us.
My muscles burn after days of endless swimming, and although I know I can keep going, I long to rest. Vlad bobs up to the surface again, but this time when he returns, he holds up both hands, his fingers spread out. Ten. Ten what? He points ahead. Ten miles to go. I suddenly feel panicky. The journey has been long and arduous, but now it seems as though it hasn't been long enough. Within minutes I spot a dark shape ahead: the base of the Institute's island.
We rise until we're five or so feet below the surface, ready to break through and climb onto land for the first time in 72 hours. The mass of brown rock standing sturdy in the water grows nearer until I can touch its rough edges. Vlad takes hold of my arm again, ready to finally swim up, but just as he's about to pull me, something stops him and he lets go. I turn to him quizzically, but he's staring over my shoulder, his gaze fixed on something else. I follow his sight to see a flash of white a couple of miles away, floating beside the island. It's a figure, and it seems to be trying to catch our attention. I realise with a start that it's Vanessa.
Vlad cuts through the water with speed, gliding ahead of us, but we're right behind him. Vanessa is alone, treading water eerily by the side of the massive rock. She's glaring at Vlad with the utmost urgency, pointing to the surface and shaking her head. She turns around and points to the island, a few feet down where the rock is smooth and whole. For a moment I can't
make out what she's pointing to, but as I swim closer, I see a giant, oval-shaped hole in the rock's side. Like the mouth of a cave it leads deep inside and is pitch black. She swims towards it, motioning for us to follow. Vlad moves instantly and, as the others begin to follow, I take a deep mental breath and plunge into the darkness with them.
Inside is a long tunnel, filled with water and blackness. After a short distance, I'm swept upwards, like being funnelled from a tube into a bowl. It's still black, but the water is calmer in here and I can kick without bashing into rock. It's a shock when I burst through the surface into the cold air above. After being below water for three days straight, breathing again feels strange. I can hear voices, too, echoing and familiar. 'Come this way. There's a rock right in front of you. Climb onto it.' Vanessa is issuing instructions and I hear Vlad grunt with exertion.
'Eve?' He calls urgently.
'I'm here.'
'Swim towards me. Careful. There's a rock right ahead, climb on.' I do as he tells me, hoisting myself onto the boulder and following Vlad's voice. His hand on my shoulder makes me jump and I jerk away. When all the Rebels are safely on land, we follow Vanessa through another tunnel, flickering with the orange glow of bracketed torches. Up ahead is a small, chipped door.
Dripping wet, still getting used to breathing, I stand behind Vlad and feel every one of my nerves tingle inside me. I recognise the torches, I recognise the type of door. For the first time since my escape, I am about to return to The Gray Institute.
*
Through the wooden door lies a long, unobstructed corridor, free of windows and the Institute's trademark art work. We're deep below ground, underneath the building where Lorna, Tia, Malachy and the rest of my friends still live and work. Vanessa leads us along the corridor, past similar closed doors, until we reach the end. We step into a large room – about the size of a football pitch – and similarly rectangular-shaped. Some of the Rebels are crammed inside, sitting on basic wooden benches or on the stone floor, talking in hushed voices. They each wear an expression of strained anxiety, and even I can tell that the room is not as full as it should be. 'Where are the others?' Vlad frowns, casting a glance around the dimly lit room. Vanessa sighs, shaking her blonde head.
'Some of them didn't make it. Roughly a quarter of Slav's group got lost; they hit a bad storm and got separated.'
'Where is Slav?' Vlad asks, peering around for Slav's familiar shiny head.
'He – ' Vanessa hesitates. 'When what was left of his group finally got here, Slav went up to the surface to check the coast was clear. The Auctoritas – ' She falters, glancing over at Jared who sits on the floor with his head hung low.
'What about the Auctoritas?' Vlad hisses, gripping Vanessa's arm with more force than necessary.
'They've sent some of their guards to man the Institutes. I guess since The Percy Institute was reduced to ashes in the last Rebellion, they figure we might do the same.'
'They got Slav?'
'Yes,' Vanessa looks genuinely anguished. 'They were stationed on the cliff edge and spotted him in the water. Fortunately, the ongoing storm masked the presence of the group below, and Sir Alec had the foresight to send someone to show them the tunnel, but for Slav it was too late.'
'Jesus,' Vlad shakes his head, releasing Vanessa to run a hand through his wet hair. I can't say I'm all that devastated about losing Slav; he was trying at the best of times, but it isn't good news for the Rebellion as a whole. 'He won't crack,' Vlad says, his jaw hardened. 'Slav won't tell them anything, no matter what they do to him.'
'I know.' Vanessa nods firmly.
'So, the guards don't know about the cave entrance? The tunnel? Have they searched the place?'
'They don't know about the entrance,' Vanessa lays a comforting hand on Vlad's forearm. 'And they're not searching the Institute. They're more concerned with who enters. The Thailand guards have been sent up to Sir Alec, he'll keep them quiet and isolated.'
'That's good,' Vlad breathes a sigh of relief. 'We've lost most of our group, too,' He gestures to the pathetic few of us standing behind him. 'Tornado. I'm hoping they can find their way but... ' He trails off, knowing how unlikely this would be.
'If they don't,' Vanessa whispers. 'What will happen to them?'
'I don't know,' Vlad shakes his head sadly. 'They won't last a minute out there. They've got no one to guide them, no knowledge of the modern world.'
'What if the Auctoritas catch them?'
'They probably will. But I discussed the rules with the Rebels before we set out, I'm sure they won't say anything. They've endured much worse over the years and they're committed to the cause.'
Vanessa nods, holding Vlad's gaze for a moment before turning to the group. 'Alfons, go out to the cave entrance and wait for the others. Make sure they don't reach the surface.'
Alfons does as he's told and those of us who've just arrived settle down inside the huge room. Besides Vanessa, Vlad and Jared, I don't know any of the other Rebels by name, and even if I did, they don't look like they're in the mood for conversation. It's nerve-wracking sitting here, waiting for the others to turn up, knowing that Auctorita guards are just a few feet above our heads. I pray that Sir Alec knows what he's doing, and that he's taking every precaution he possibly can. Once again the fate of my life rests in his hands.
Chapter Twenty-One
Eve.
Five days pass as we wait for the other Rebels to arrive. The minutes tick by excruciatingly slow, and there's nothing to do besides wait. The bare room offers nothing in the way of comfort or entertainment, so the only thing we can do to pass the time is talk – but we're too nervous to do that. Vanessa sends word to Sir Alec that Vlad has arrived, and the Headmaster pays us a visit on our first night. He doesn't stay long, and he speaks to no one but Vlad.
It's a welcome relief the next day when Stacey's group arrives completely in tact. Jared met them, as planned, by the cave entrance before they had time to reach the surface. They're filled in on the events of the past few days, and even Stacey appears disheartened to hear of Slav's capture. Zoe – the friendly, French old Rebel – is in Stacey's group, as is Natalia, the first body I carried out of the confine. The three girls instantly make a beeline for me, as if we're old friends, and slump down on the floor beside me. 'Well that was fucking awful,' Stacey sighs, leaning her head back on the cool, stone wall. 'Almost got rumbled three times by Law Officers, and encountered four – yes, four – sharks – and I fucking hate sharks. Thanks,' She snatches a plastic pouch from one of the old Rebels handing them out. 'Christ, do I need this,' She toasts no one in particular before glugging her fill. 'Still, at least none of my lot got lost or captured. Poor Slav.' She shakes her head sadly.
'Some of the others are saying it was a bad decision coming here,' Zoe states in her heavy French accent. 'They're saying we should have gone somewhere else. That Alec can't be trusted. But I agree with Vlad,' She smiles. 'Sirus won't suspect Alec. His father was the one who gave Alec his position.'
'We follow orders,' Stacey shrugs. 'We're not the brains behind this operation, that's just the way it is. Plus, now that Vanessa's cover is blown, we needed somebody else with a connection to the Auctoritas. And we had something Alec wanted.'
My stomach twists at the thought of Lorna, to whom Stacey is referring. Has she been transformed yet? Most likely; now that Sir Alec has her back, he won't risk losing her again. Natalia shifts uncomfortably on the hard floor next to me. 'If Vlad would just tell us what the plan is then maybe there wouldn't be such doubt.'
'We're breaking into the Confine. What more do you need to know?' Stacey frowns.
'Well, how we're going to do it. When, for a start.'
'You all know Vlad's reasons for playing his cards close to his chest. They're more relevant now than they've ever been before. Slav has been captured, and so have a shit load of old Rebels. Thanks to Vlad, they won't have any information to give.'
'Except where we are.' Natalia says.
'And what we're planning to do.' I add. Stacey rolls her eyes, crumpling up her plastic pouch and throwing it into the corner.
'Just shut up, will you? You're all doing my head in. As I recall, your Rebellion didn't go so smoothly either.' She raises an eyebrow at Natalia, who instantly scowls, stung.
'At least Kristoff always let us in on the plans.'
'Yes but he also started the Rebellion with a hot head,' Zoe reasons. 'He didn't even mean for it to become so large. After Laura was Confined, he only planned to wreak revenge on the Institutes. Things just spiralled after that.'
'Who's Laura?' I frown, but before Zoe can answer, Vlad commands the attention of the room, beginning a speech to boost our morale. It doesn't really work.
The next day, Maristella's group arrives unscathed. Then Jasmina's. Then America's. America lost a few of her old Rebels on account of fierce tides, but the large space is slowly becoming claustrophobic. Vanessa suggests that we start to fill up another dungeon room, but no one volunteers to move; we all want to stay together.
Maristella is the only other person – besides Asil – who seems genuinely sad about losing Lorna. Apparently, whilst Vlad, Slav and I were away in London, she acted very much like a mother figure to Lorna, taking it upon herself to protect her from the others. Because of this – and my guilt for not realising what Vlad's plan was – she and I bond over the long, empty days and I learn that she, too, was a Gray Institute student.
The Gray Institute_Rebels' Hell Page 25