Resistance (The Institute Series Book 2) (25 page)

The blood pooling out from the side of his chest makes me want to gag, but his ragged breathing as he struggles is more concerning to me right now.

“Help!” I yell. Ebbodine runs to our side. She places her hands over Chad’s wound on his chest, trying to stop the blood.

“There’s too much,” she mutters to herself but I still hear it.

Chad grips onto my shirt, “Not your fault,” he speaks quietly but forcefully. “I love you.”

“No. Do not say goodbye. You can’t leave me. You can’t.
Because, I love you.” I start to rock back and forth. I can’t do this. I can’t lose him. “I can’t do this without you. I can’t live—”

“Yes. You can.” He’s slipping away, his words raspy and gargled. This is all happening too fast. He’s losing too much blood, too quickly. Only seconds have passed, but it feels like minutes. “This isn’t your fault. I should have shielded us.” He’s whispering now, struggling to even talk.

Even in his death, he’s still trying to reassure me, telling me that I’m doing the right thing even though that thing is killing him right in front of my eyes.

“No. You’re going to be okay. You have to be. You
have
to. I need you. I
need
you to be with me.”

“I always will be.” He closes his eyes, his hand releases my shirt. He’s letting go.

“No! Don’t let go,” I grasp him tighter. I don’t want to believe this is the end. “You’re going to make it. You’re going to be okay.” My vision blurs as the tears spill over my cheeks.

“He’s gone,” Ebb says to me.

I shake my head, “No.”

“Allira, you need help. You’ve been shot. You’re losing a lot of blood.”

“No,” is all I can say.

Shilah comes over to me, tries to pick me up.

“No!” I yell, gripping onto Chad tighter. My body heaves with sobs.

“Allira, you need to go to Aunt Kenna. Now,” Shilah says forcefully.

“No. I need to be with Chad.”

“He’s gone, Allira. I’m sorry, but he’s gone.”

I swallow, hard. I look down at Chad’s lifeless body, the sticky mess on my arm and body. Some of it’s my blood, most of it is Chad’s. This time when Shilah tries to pick me up, I don’t fight him. I want to, but I’m too numb to try – mentally and physically – I can’t feel my right arm at all.

As Shilah turns to start walking me up the stairs to the Crypt to take me to the hospital wing, I see it. I see what happened. We disarmed everyone from the upper level of the Crypt, but there, slumped in a heap on the left hand side of the cells is Lynch. She has a gun in her hand, but is no longer moving. She shot me, she killed Chad, and then our side killed her. Justice was served quickly and without hesitation, but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough.

Suddenly angry, the fury builds inside of me to the point that I feel I need to do something about it. I struggle in Shilah’s arms to get free, to do something, anything! I need to run back to Chad, shoot Lynch again even though it would be pointless. I need to do something. But instead of breaking free, red and black spots fill my vision and I surrender to the darkness.

Chapter Twenty-One

Distraction. It’s amazing how a ten second slip of concentration means the difference between winning and losing, living and dying. I want to wake up from this nightmare. I want to go back to a world where I’m in Chad’s arms, in his bed, by his side. I want him to come back to me.

I open my eyes and see the bright white lights of the hospital room and Drew leaning over me. “Hey,” he whispers and smiles. “You had me worried for a moment there.”

I look around the room. I’m hooked up to a machine that’s monitoring my heartbeat and it’s beeping at an alarmingly fast pace.

“Chad,” I manage to choke out, sounding hoarse and gravelly. Drew just looks down and shakes his head. “I was hoping I dreamt it,” I say as tears start falling. “What happened?” My memory is hazy. I just remember everything happening so fast. Too fast. One minute he was with me, the next he was gone.

“Lynch,” Drew replies, taking a seat next to my bed. I have a flash of memory, seeing her dead on the Crypt floor. So I was right about it happening that way. “I guess after all the commotion, someone neglected to check her for her weapon.” He looks down at his fidgeting hands, trying to hold back tears. “I shot Lynch when I saw her shooting at you. I was so scared I was going to lose you.”

Drew
saved me? I’m too taken aback by his words to focus on that though – I was never his to lose. I go to open my mouth to say just that, but he puts his hand up to stop me.

“I don’t mean that the way you’re thinking. You may not have done it intentionally, but you’ve been the closest thing to a friend I’ve had in years, maybe even since I first came to this place. If I were to have lost you, I … I don’t want to even contemplate that. I have every intention of making sure I become a better person. Everything that I am is because of you and I’ll be forever grateful.” He sighs as he leans forward and takes my hand in his. “I’m really sorry I wasn’t quick enough to save Chad too. I wish I could go back, I wish I could bring him back, because … you deserve to be happy.”

No I don’t. It’s my fault he’s dead.
I don’t say this out aloud, even though I know it’s the truth. I just nod to Drew and thank him, which I’m pretty sure doesn’t even make sense at this point.

‘It’s not your fault.’

Tate?

The curtain beside my bed is pulled back and I find Tate in the bed next to mine.

“Sorry. I didn’t realise I had a roommate,” I say quietly. Is he angry at me? Does he blame me like I blame myself?

‘No, I don’t blame you and while I understand your need for self-pity and loathing right now, you’re going to have to stop that. None of it was your fault. You did something amazing. You need to remember that.’

I got my boyfriend killed, is what I did. By my count, I got at least eight people killed.

‘You paid a price that needed to be paid.’

How can you say that? It’s too high a cost to pay. My freedom is not worth that.

‘Your freedom might not be, but the freedom of the lives around you? I know it hurts. I’ve lost Chad twice now – once when Shilah told me he was dead, and then again after being told he was actually alive all this time. I know it’s hard, but we’re all here for you.’

“Are you guys doing it right now? Talking in your heads?” Drew interrupts. I turn to look at him, a guilty smile plastered on my face. “Shilah was right. That
is
annoying.”

“You’re awake,” Paxton’s voice carries from the doorway. He walks in and shakes Drew’s hand as he gets up.

“I’ll let you guys talk,” Drew says, preparing to walk out.

“Come see me later. There are things to discuss,” Paxton tells him. Drew leaves and Paxton comes closer, leaning down to kiss my forehead before taking the seat Drew was in.

“Lia!” I hear a little voice yell. A young voice? Only Mum and Aunt Kenna call me that.

I sit up to see a cute, young blonde girl running in and jumping on my bed. “Nuka,” I say smiling, happy to see she’s okay and didn’t get caught up in the mess.

“Careful baby girl, don’t hurt Allira,” Paxton says as Nuka tries to climb higher on the bed. “She’s been through a lot.” It’s at that moment that I realise the ‘baby girl’ he called me earlier in his mind wasn’t a form of affection like Tate assumed. If Paxton is so comfortable calling me what he calls his daughter, we have absolutely no issue what-so-ever.

“Is it true you got shot?” Nuka asks.

“Nuka!” Paxton exclaims. “I told you not to mention that.” He looks at me, “Sorry.”

I give a little laugh. “No. It’s okay. It’s true. I did get shot, right here,” I say pointing to my shoulder.

“Did it hurt?” she asks, running her finger over my bandage.

“Nah. I’m strong,” I say flexing my muscles on my good arm. She smiles and I can’t help but smile back. I didn’t want to tell her the truth that getting shot was the second most painful thing that’s ever happened to me.

‘Losing Chad is the most painful thing that’s ever happened to me, too.’
I look over, giving Tate a sympathetic stare.

Shilah comes in at that moment, his eyes full of happiness and tears. He sits on the other side of my bed from Nuka, and suddenly my bed seems to be shrinking by the minute. Shilah leans in and hugs me. I try not to wince from the pain, but I let out an involuntary grunt.

Shilah pulls back but stays sitting on my bed, “Sorry. Does it really hurt?”

“How about I shoot you so you can see for yourself?” I almost get the whole sentence out before I crack a smile. I shake my head, “It’s not so bad.”
Totally lying.
I hear Tate chuckle in his mind. “Where’s Mum and Dad?” I ask Shilah.

“They’ll be here soon. You’ve been out of it for a while,” Shilah replies.

“I have? How long?” No one answers me. I try and concentrate on their thoughts. Tate is giving me nothing but static, Nuka has no idea what is going on, Shilah’s inner voice is debating whether or not to tell me, but it’s Paxton who gives me an answer.

‘Three days. Three long, terrifying days.’

“Three days?” I exclaim.

“Paxton!” Tate scolds.

“I’m sorry, I’m not used to having to keep my thoughts to myself like all of you are,” he replies.

Aunt Kenna rushes into the room, “What are you all yelling about?” She looks at me and smiles. “Oh good, you’re awake,” she says relieved. “How are you feeling?”

“A little confused,” I reply.

“You lost a lot of blood. It goes with the territory,” Aunt Kenna says as she starts fiddling with the machines I’m hooked up to. She grabs a blood pressure cuff from beside the bed and starts to check my stats. “Shilah, can you give me a bit of room here, please?”

“Sure.” Shilah gets up from my bed and walks over to Tate, kissing him on the cheek.
‘Sorry. I didn’t say hello to you yet,’
he tells Tate telepathically.

Tate smiles, “You’re forgiven.” Shilah brings a chair over to the middle of our beds and sits between us.

Paxton is about to ask who’s forgiven for what, before he realises and bites his tongue.
‘It’s going to be a pain in the arse learning to be around Tate again.’

“Ha. Welcome to my world,” I say to Paxton.

He rolls his eyes and sighs. “Not you, too!”

Now it’s Mum and Dad’s turn to rush in to see me. “You’re awake,” Dad says, relieved and excited. Mum’s eyes fill with tears. “Drew came to tell us, but we didn’t believe him.”

“Yes, I’m awake. Why does that seem to be a big deal to everyone? I got shot in the shoulder. It’s not like I got shot…”
in the chest like Chad.
I don’t finish the end of that sentence out loud.

‘Maybe because you’ve been out of it for three days,’
Shilah answers me telepathically.

Oh, right. That
,
I answer him before remembering he can’t hear me.

A weird silence falls over the room. Everyone’s staring at me, all of their thoughts jumbled. They all seem to be worried about telling me something, I just don’t know what it is and they’re not letting themselves think it either.

“Okay. Someone is going to have to tell me what is going on. What are you all so worried about? What aren’t you telling me?”

Aunt Kenna stops taking my stats and goes to join Mum and Dad who are standing at the end of my bed. Shilah and Tate are on my left, holding hands and completely shutting me out of their thoughts. I look to Paxton with hope that he might give it away again. He doesn’t. In fact, all he is thinking is that he needs to get Nuka out of here before they tell me anything. Whatever it is, it must be bad.

“Come on Nuka, we’ll leave and let Allira get some rest, okay?” he tells her.

“Okay, Daddy,” she replies, jumping off the bed.

“I’ll come by and see you later,” Paxton says before leaving, Nuka in tow.

“There’s something you need to see, Allira,” Mum says once they’ve gone.

Shilah reaches for the remote and turns on the television that’s hanging in our room. “What channel should we be on?” he asks.

“It has been playing on repeat on all the news stations,” Dad replies.

I’m not used to having a television. We had one in our house when I was an agent with Drew, but I never watched it. We didn’t have one in Eminent Falls. We didn’t have many luxuries at all, but I liked it that way.

I’m suddenly looking at Paxton looking strikingly handsome and charming sitting behind Brookfield’s desk.

“When did this happen?” I ask.

“Two days ago,” Shilah replies. “We postponed the press conference by a day to get everything and everyone sorted and organised after …” he doesn’t finish his sentence.

On the television, Paxton starts talking. “I address the entire country tonight. My name is Paxton James, and there have been some developments here at the Institute. Developments that not only affect those of us here, but every member of society.

“I have worked for the Institute for four years. In my time here, I have seen the level of care of the Defective population go from minimal to down-right appalling.” The screen flashes to images of the Crypt, of some of the interrogation rooms, even a photo of Tate, almost starved and rotting in his jail cell.

“When was that taken?” I ask.

“I have no idea,” Tate replies. “I haven’t had a chance to ask Paxton about it yet. He’s been too … busy.”

“Imprisonment, torture, unmentionable acts against fellow human beings, all at the orders of one Bartholomew Brookfield,” Paxton continues.

The screen goes back to Paxton, behind Brookfield’s desk. “As of today, Mr. Brookfield will no longer be serving as director of the Institute. I have been his second in command for almost two years, and I’ve tried endlessly to change the ways of the Institute. That change will start today, in full force.

“
The time has now come for the nation to turn a new page by righting the wrongs of the past and moving forward with confidence to the future.
A future where we embrace the possibility of new solutions to enduring problems where old approaches have failed. A future based on mutual respect, mutual resolve, and mutual responsibility. A future where everyone and anyone, whatever their origins, are truly equal partners, with equal opportunities and with an equal stake in shaping the next chapter in the history of this great country.”

I have a feeling I know this speech. I’m pretty sure he’s basically taken an old political speech from years ago and reworded it to fit our situation. It was given by one of our Prime Ministers back when we were still part of the Commonwealth and not an independent country. It pisses me off that this speech is even useable. How have we not learnt from our past mistakes? Why do we keep doing the same things over and over again?

I focus back on Paxton and his words. “Our law currently dictates that anyone who discovers they are Defective must be brought into the Institute for ongoing treatment. For years this has meant taking away the rights of those born with this defect. We have taken away their homes, their families and their lives. This practice is going to stop.”

My heart starts rapidly beating at his words. I keep my eyes glued to the screen in a surreal euphoric state. It’s actually happening.

“Nowhere in the law does it state that Defectives are to be locked away, kept hidden, and taken out of society, even though essentially that is what has happened. This practice began with the founding director of the Institute, and was carried on by all of his successors. But it ends with Mr. Brookfield.

As of today, we are implementing a new program. One where Defectives are given their basic human rights back. One where they will not have to live in fear of being caught, and one of equality between the normal and the Defective.

“Defectives will re-join society, they will get jobs, they will live like any other citizen. They will return to the Institute quarterly. They will have their check-ups, their regular counselling treatments and their safety levels monitored. There is no reason why we cannot live in a society where we are together as one.”

“Does that mean what I think it means?” I ask no one in particular. “We’re free?”