The Institute

By Kayla Howarth

Living in constant fear. Always looking over your shoulder. The source of your fear? The Institute.

Allira Daniels will do anything to keep her Defective brother safe from the Institute. They claim to protect Defectives, but it’s human nature to fear the unknown. Defectives are dangerous, they possess abilities that no human should be able to. To Allira and the rest of her family, the Institute seems more like a prison than the safe-haven they promote themselves to be. Protecting Shilah from that fate is their number one priority.

When Allira stumbles across a car crash involving two of her school classmates, she ignores all of her father’s warnings of laying low and not drawing attention to herself. By doing so, she may have just caught the eye of the Institute. She’s not Defective, but what seventeen-year-old girl has the ability to pull two teenage boys away from a fiery rubble and walk away without a scratch? It would definitely be seen as suspicious.

Allira and her family need to make decisions. Do they stay, or do they flee again? Will they be coming for her? Will her whole family come under investigation? Will they discover Shilah and his ability to predict the future?

Are you Defective? The Institute is coming for you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kayla Howarth
• Release date: Jan 7, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310357435

Kayla Howarth

Kayla was born and raised on the Gold Coast in Queensland, Australia. She still resides there with her husband and son.Her love of reading and movies inspired her to start something she never dreamed possible: writing her first novel.When she's not looking after her son, or writing, you'll most likely find her hosting her own dance party in the kitchen while she does the dishes (where her husband will argue that more dancing is achieved than clean plates.)

Book preview

THE INSTITUTE

By Kayla Howarth

The Institute Copyright © 2014 by Kayla Howarth

Cover Illustration Copyright ©

Cover Design by Wicked Book Covers

http://www.wickedbookcovers.com

All rights reserved.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher.

For information regarding permission, write to:

Kayla Howarth - permissions - [e-mail]

ISBN: 9781310357435

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Books by Kayla Howarth

Acknowledgements

About the Author

PROLOGUE

I can smell summer, the scent of freshly cut grass, and rain in the air. It’s technically still spring, but in a few short weeks, I’ll be free.

I’ll be free from school, free from assignments, and free from having to be cautious and alert for six hours a day five days a week. I won’t have to worry about drawing attention to myself or my brother. I won’t have to worry about blending in. I can just be me.

Dad has only one rule for us while attending school: don’t draw attention to yourselves, don’t excel in anything. Keep your head down, your grades average, and don’t get too close to people. Okay, so that’s more like five rules, but they’re basically the same thing—be invisible.

The rules aren’t really for me; they’re for my brother, Shilah. I bend the rules where I can, and in return, Dad gives me a little leeway. I’m not the Defective one after all.

I’ve always hated that term, Defective—it implies that Shilah’s broken. He’s not. He just happens to have visions of the future. It’s a little strange, yes, but he’s not dangerous like everyone assumes. He’s not dangerous like the others.

Our whole lives, they’ve drilled it into us that Defective people are too reckless and too unpredictable to live in society with normal people. So, we have to hide Shilah in plain sight. We try to fit in, keep to ourselves as much as possible, and keep suspicious behaviour to a minimum.

I fear that one day I will wake up Defective. I fear that I’ll become a burden to my family. Guilt consumes me at these thoughts though, because I don’t want Shilah to think he’s a burden to me. He isn’t.

While I don’t blame Shilah for the way we live, I’ve always assumed that when I graduate school, get married, and move out, I might have a sense of freedom. Like maybe I could start relaxing, live a normal life, and not be overly cautious of everything I say or do all the time. I don’t know why I think that though. Surely when I move out, I’ll still have contact with Shilah.

Maybe deep down I know we can’t keep up this charade forever, and he’ll end up at the Institute where they say he belongs.

I hate myself when I think like this. I love my brother, and I’ll do anything to protect him. I just can’t shake the feeling we’re going to lose him no matter what we do.

As I walk to the train station after another gruellingly long and boring day at school, I try to fight off a headache. My mind feels like mush. Maybe if I was allowed to apply myself in my classes, I’d enjoy them more, but purposefully being average at school is actually harder than one might think. I realise how backwards my dad would sound to an outsider—what parent doesn’t want their children to excel? The father of a Defective child, that’s who.

The afternoon rain that passed through earlier has moved on, but I’m still wet. My long brown hair is knotty and stringy from the humidity and sticks to my shoulders and back. I just want to get home and take a shower.

I’m so focused on getting to the station on time that I don’t concentrate enough on my footing. The pavement changes from concrete to the slick, painted tile-type flooring that leads to the train platform. Add that to the residual water on my shoes, and I know I’m going down before I even fall. I just don’t have the time or the reflexes to stop it. My left leg goes out in front of me, the other curling underneath, as I slip to the ground, my hands springing out to catch my fall. My school bag lands on the ground with a thud and spills its contents everywhere. When will I learn to zip that thing up?

Crawling around, I start putting my belongings back in my bag and then try to get up quickly, embarrassed by my fall. But as I put my foot underneath me to push myself back up, I slip again.

Are you freaking kidding me?

An arm reaches under my elbow and helps me up. I go to thank my rescuer, but when I see who it is, I’m met with an intense feeling of wanting to fall all over again—right into his arms. Piercing green eyes stare at me, so glassy I can almost make out my brown eyes reflected in his. His brown hair sits shaggily around his forehead and neck. He’s still holding onto my arm when I realise he’s saying something.

Are you okay? he asks. At least, I think that’s what he asked.

Huh? Wow, Allira, real articulate.

I asked if you were okay? He raises an eyebrow when I don’t respond again. I’m Drew. Did you hit your head or something? Or are you always this slow?

I’m fine! I say, finally snapping out of my stupor. I yank my arm out of his grasp and start to walk off. I don’t think I could be any more embarrassed.

You’re welcome! he shouts after me. It’s a good thing your bitch chip wasn’t affected by your fall, he yells loud enough to make everyone look at me. Smirks and entertained grins cross my audience’s faces.

I was wrong. I could be more embarrassed.

CHAPTER ONE

Kneeling over his seemingly lifeless body, I clasp one of his hands in both of mine. His breathing is shallow and gurgled, and blood is coming from his ears, nose, and mouth. If someone doesn’t come and help him soon, he’s not going to make it. But no one will come. No one is stupid enough to get involved, apart from me. With any luck, someone nearby heard the crash and cared enough to call an ambulance. That would be lucky for Jax anyway, not so much for me.

I shouldn’t be here. I never should’ve got involved, but what was I meant to do? Keep walking, pretend I didn’t see the smoke, and leave Drew and Jax to die? I couldn’t just run away, but now I’m wondering if it was a wasted effort. Jax is dying right in front of me, and I can’t do anything to stop it.

Drew’s unresponsive. He’s conscious, but I think he’s in shock. He sits on the other side of his friend, staring blankly at the wreckage that was his car.

As I look around at the scene before me—a burnt car, two bloodied teenage boys, and me, covered in dirt and smelling of smoke, I have the urge to run. That’s what I should’ve done in the first place. I’m not Defective, but when you live in the world I do, that doesn’t matter. Any kind of inexplicable stunt is considered suspicious. A smallish seventeen-year-old like me pulling two boys—one of whom is on the rugby team at school—from a burning car? Yeah, that would be considered suspicious.

If I leave now, maybe no one will even know I was here, other than Jax and Drew. As I try to slip my hand from Jax’s, he grasps it tighter and coughs as he tries to talk, startling me. I didn’t even realise he was conscious.

Stay. Please, he says between gasping breaths.

Now I have to stay. I can’t leave him here to die alone. I should’ve just caught the train instead of walking home from Ebb’s house. Why didn’t I just catch the train? It would’ve been easy. It’s the easiest way to get around this town. Actually, it’s the easiest way to get around the entire country.

Now that the west coast is uninhabitable, our city is pretty central to everything. Even though the local trains around Eminent Falls are substantially slower than the bullet train out of the city, it’s still less than ten minutes from Ebb’s house to mine. But no, I had to walk today because of my foul mood and the heat—I didn’t want to sit in a train car next to a sweaty, smelly stranger.

Jax coughs again, and it makes me feel useless, as if I should be doing something. The distant sound of sirens fills my ears, and I sigh in relief.

They’re on their way, you just have to hold on a little bit longer, I plead with him.

He doesn’t respond though. I can’t tell anymore if he’s breathing, and I can’t help but think the worst has happened … he’s already gone.

Of course, something like this would happen now when I finally feel like we’ve found a town we can settle down in. We’ve been here for three years, and I think that’s the longest we’ve stayed anywhere, other than when we lived in the city with my aunt. Things seem to be a lot calmer here. It’s one of the last farming towns left in the entire country. Since the proliferation of laboratory-grown foods, the organic, fresh food industry has become something of a luxury.

People seem to be more laid back and relaxed here than people in the city. Eminent Falls is somewhat secluded from the rest of the country, and that’s what I like about it. Even though small towns are notoriously gossipy, I find it easier to fit in here. When we were living in the city, I just felt like there were more eyes that could stare at us and try to figure out our secret.

Shilah fits in well here, and it’s easy for him to stay out of trouble. Dad likes it here, too. We have our own farm, and he only has to deal with people on weekends, which is when the council closes off the main street of town for the local produce market. Dad isn’t exactly what you would call a people person, so the arrangement works in his favour.

Eminent Falls is the first place in a long time that feels like home and not just a place to get by for a while. Now we’re probably going to have to leave.

The relief I felt when I heard the sirens immediately dissipates when I see the police car following the ambulance and a sedan with the Institute logo on the side following the police car. Why are people from the Institute here, have they already come to take me away? I didn’t even do anything! I’m not Defective.

I move out of the paramedics’ way so they can tend to Jax, but I don’t know where to stand, so I start walking towards the crowd of people who have suddenly gathered now that the authorities are here. Hopefully, I can blend in and then sneak away.

A voice startles me. Excuse me, Miss?

Damn it.

I turn to find the police officers approaching. Everything inside me is screaming at me to run, but I know better. They’ll come looking for me and will probably discover Shilah instead.

So what did you see here today, Miss … uh, what is your name? the taller policeman asks me as the shorter, pudgy one stands with a pen and notebook, ready to take down my answers.

Make up an answer, lie. Oh, who am I kidding, I’m not quick enough to think on my feet.

Allira.

And your last name? the short officer asks, annoyed, as if it should’ve been a given they want my full name.

Daniels.

Can you shed some light for us on what happened here this evening?

Even still fresh in my mind, the details of what just happened are hazy. Everything went so quick, my brain hasn’t had time to process it all. I need to answer carefully, but I don’t know how to say I got the boys away from the car without arousing suspicion.

I … I didn’t know what to do, I just knew that they needed to get away from the fire, I stutter.

A woman’s voice comes from behind me. I’m sorry, did you just say you got the boys away from the car? The voice belongs to one of the people from the Institute. I realise I have to be even more cautious of what I say, being within earshot of them. I go to answer, and my mouth opens, but no sound comes out.

Actually, she didn’t do anything, Drew says, rubbing the side of his forehead. It’s the first time I’ve heard him speak all day. She just kept Jax talking and conscious until the ambulance came. She tried to, anyway.

The woman from the Institute nods as if she believes him but then walks over to the burnt car. She glances at me and then back at the car.

Yup, now would be a good time to leave. The ambulance just left with Jax, and part of me wishes it were me in there instead. Did I just wish to trade places with a dying guy? Am I really that desperate to get out of here?

Is that all for now? I really should be getting home, my dad is probably worried, I say. He won’t be. He’ll still be down on the farm, but they don’t know that.

Of course, Miss Daniels, we can give you a lift if you like, the tall policeman offers.

Thanks, but I’m really not far from here, I’m sure I’ll be fine on my own. If Dad happens to see the police car, he’ll jump to all the wrong conclusions, and I can’t deal with that, not after today.

Are you sure? You’ve had a pretty traumatic afternoon, I wouldn’t want you to go into shock on your way home, he insists.

I can walk her home, Drew offers, and my gut pinches.

The officer turns to Drew. I don’t think that’s such a great idea. You should really get looked at by a doctor, too. Actually, both of you probably should if you were close to the car when it was on fire. You could have smoke inhalation.

I feel fine, I respond. Although, my chest does feel quite heavy, and I’ve been trying not to cough because it feels like I have a razor blade stuck in my throat, but I’m definitely sure I don’t need to go to the hospital. I wasn’t in the car when it crashed, and more importantly, I hate hospitals, needles, and sick people. Just the thought of it almost makes me want to faint.

Me too, Drew says.

At least let us drive you both home.

There’s something about the way the police officer is insisting, the way his eyes are screaming at me to get in the car, that makes me say yes to the lift even though I really don’t want to.

Both officers help Drew and me into the car, and we pull away. The Institute staff starts tidying up the accident scene as we leave. Why are they cleaning up? You’d think the police department would be responsible for that. I almost ask why, but I’ve drawn enough attention to myself for one day.

I settle back in my seat, but it’s hard to get comfortable with Drew sitting next to me. We go to school together, but we’ve only ever had one conversation, and I’d rather forget it. I glance at him from the corner of my eye. He has a pretty nasty gash on his forehead from the crash. Maybe he should be going to a doctor instead of home. Even with the messy forehead, he’s intimidatingly good-looking.

Recalling how stupid I was the day he transferred to our school a couple of months ago, I can’t help but cringe at the memory. Falling over in front of everyone was embarrassing enough, but getting tongue-tied and flustered when he tried to help me up just made it worse. No one has ever done that to me before, and because of that, I’ve avoided him ever since. Not that it’s been hard to do that since school went on break six weeks ago.

I’ve never experienced feelings so conflicting before. I spent most of my time at school just hoping to see Drew and talk to him. But whenever I’d get even remotely close to him, my nerves would get the better of me, and I’d make an excuse to leave, berating myself later for chickening out again.

I’m thankful that Drew covered for me about the accident, but I can’t help wondering why he did it. He’s hiding the fact that I actually pulled him out of the car and pulled Jax away from in front of it. Jax mustn’t have been wearing his seat belt when they crashed because he was on the road when I found him. Why is Drew lying to them, protecting me?

I feel really dizzy, Drew says before slumping forward. I think he’s passed out.

The officers put their siren and lights on as they pull into my driveway.

Sorry, we’re going to have to take him to the hospital. Are you okay from here?

I’m sure I can manage, I say. I’m glad they won’t be escorting me to the door, but they’re in my driveway—there’s no way Dad could miss this spectacle.

I walk in the front door as Dad comes through the back.

Shilah! he yells out, his voice strained and panicked. It’s typical of him to assume it has to do with Shilah.

No, Dad, it’s me, I say, my voice low and quiet, filled with guilt.

His face turns from confusion to worry when he sees what state I’m in. My hair’s messy and smells of smoke, my face and clothes are covered in dirt, and my hands are bloody.

Dad rushes over to me. Are you okay? What happened? He lifts my hand to examine where the blood’s coming from, but it’s not my blood. It’s Jax’s.

There was an accident.

Are you okay?

I’m fine. I don’t know what to say, how to tell him I screwed up.

Allira, you’re scaring me, what happened?

Sighing, I take a seat at the dining table and start to explain. I was walking home from Ebbodine’s house. I went to see her mum because … I start tearing up.

Because you miss your friend, Dad says for me. He sits opposite me, slumping in his seat. I know it’s been hard on you. She went missing, and you didn’t get to say goodbye.

Just like Mum, I mumble.

It’s okay to miss her, you know that, right?

I don’t know whether he’s talking about Mum or Ebb right now, but it doesn’t matter. I miss both of them. My mother and best friend disappeared out of my life without a trace, and no one knows where they could’ve gone. Although, after eight years, I’ve become accustomed to missing Mum. Ebb’s disappearance only happened a month ago and is still fresh. When I think about it, my chest tightens and my throat feels raw.

I nod. I didn’t see what happened today, but Drew from school crashed his car, and it somehow caught alight. Drew was trapped inside, and another boy from school, Jax, was thrown from the car. I know I should’ve run. I know I shouldn’t have helped.

You what? Dad’s head snaps up from the table. What were you thinking, Allira?

Yup. This is the reaction I was expecting. I don’t know, I really don’t know, but I couldn’t just run away. They would’ve died.

Dad’s silent for a moment. His jaw is hardened but his eyes are soft, as if he’s trying to decide between yelling at me and consoling me.

Tears have started cascading down my cheeks.

I just don’t understand how you didn’t think about how this could go badly for you or your brother. His voice is quiet, disappointed. We don’t live in a world where selflessness is appreciated, Allira, you know that. He stands from the table and starts pacing back and forth. We’re going to have to move again. You know that, don’t you?

I nod. As the reality of what’s happened sinks in, and the seriousness of the situation becomes clear, I can’t help but mentally kick myself and think, What the hell did I just do?

***

I’m sorry, I say to Shilah as we pack our belongings into boxes.

He doesn’t respond. I don’t know if he’s angry at me for what I’ve done, or feels guilty that if it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have to move at all.

We pack in silence. I can’t believe how much stuff we’ve accumulated in the three years we’ve been here.

It takes a while, and we even skip dinner, but we nearly get the whole spare bedroom boxed up when there’s a knock at the door. My heart sinks into my stomach.

They’ve come for me.

The window is my only escape route, but there’s no point climbing out of it. Where would I go?

I hear Dad open the door and a woman’s voice greeting him. Making my way towards the doorway of the spare room, I eavesdrop. Hello, Mr. Daniels, I’m Drew Stanley’s mum. Can I come in for a moment?

Please do.

As much as Dad hates dealing with people, he’s certainly learnt how to hide that part of him when he needs to.

Stay here, I tell Shilah.

Walking into the kitchen where Dad has welcomed her in, I notice immediately she isn’t alone. Drew’s here as well. He stands with his hands in his pockets, looking at the dirty kitchen floor. Shouldn’t he still be at the hospital?

We just wanted to come by and thank you, Drew’s mother says to me.

Me?

Of course. I’d say saving my son’s life is cause for a bit of gratitude, don’t you think?

I cringe. Maybe a long time ago, that would’ve been true.

Could you two kids leave us for a moment? Dad interjects.

This can’t be good.

I lead Drew out to the front porch. The silence between us is awkward, and I don’t know how to fill the gaping void. His deep green eyes seem brighter now at night than they were earlier in the sunlight, and they’re preventing me from being able to think clearly.

I sit on the stoop of the porch, and he sits next to me, a little closer than expected or necessary, but I don’t mind. I try not to let my nerves get the better of me as they have every other time I’ve been near him, but I’m already beginning to fidget.

So, are you okay? he asks.

Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I’m not the one who was in a car accident.

He shrugs and more awkward silence fills the air between us.

Say something. Anything. Any words will do. I’m fine, I manage to get out.

Drew looks down at his feet. I’m sorry, I don’t want to be the one to tell you this, but … it’s Jax …

The air leaves my lungs, as if someone’s punched me,