Enders(9)

I didn’t really want to go inside, but I had to. I got out of the car and looked up at Institution 37. The massive gray walls made my heart feel heavy. The complex looked like the prison that it really was, with heavy iron gates and a security booth. The walls mocked and challenged, daring me to return. Was I an idiot to come back? The last time I had, I’d lost my best friend on those walls.

Lauren stood beside me. She smiled, and gentle wrinkles formed around her eyes.

“It’s okay, Callie. We’ll be right beside you.”

The driver stayed with the car while the three of us walked toward the gate. I was safe, wasn’t I? We had the power and the money, much more than these horrible people in this place. Much more than that vile head of security, my old prison guard—Beatty.

So why were my hands shaking?

Lauren noticed and touched my shoulder.

“Don’t worry. You’re not going to see her. We’re only going to speak to the headmaster.”

I nodded. Even though Beatty haunted my memories, odds were we wouldn’t run into her there. She was probably off in that dungeon of a confinement cell, torturing some poor Starter.

The gates opened with their awful grinding noise that made my jaw clench. I looked down and noticed that my hands had stopped shaking.

Soon we were in the main office, waiting for the headmaster’s arrival. The chief of staff and Lauren sat in old leather chairs. I was too fidgety to sit. I paced the room. There wasn’t a bit of color in it. On the wall hung a faded painting of an English hunting scene. One hunter proudly held up a dead fox. Fitting, I thought.

On the desk, a glint drew my attention. It came from a stiletto letter opener with a handle shaped like a snake and emerald-green stones for eyes. Next to it, the airscreen’s screensaver was not the usual waterfalls and wildlife but a screenshot from Huntdown, a first-person shooter game where unclaimed Starters were hunted. I knew better than anyone how brutal this place could be, but that shocked even me.

I felt sick to my stomach. I hated being there. I just wanted to get our answer and go. All we really needed was an address, a contact number, maybe even a bank account. Some sure way to find the Old Man.

“Callie? Don’t you want to sit down?” Lauren asked.

The door opened and I tensed. Instead of the headmaster, I found myself face to face with none other than Beatty.

“Callie,” Beatty said in her raspy voice. “So nice to see you again.”

She extended her gnarled hand to me. The moles on her face had grown bigger, it seemed. I folded my arms. If the hate in my eyes could have started a fire, she’d have been burned to a crisp.

The chief of staff stood and came to my side. “We’re expecting the headmaster.”

A small smile crept across one side of Beatty’s face. “Yes. You’re looking at her.”

“You?” I blurted out.

“Yes. I’ve been promoted.”

I took a step back. I think I gasped, because the chief of staff put his hand on my shoulder. How could that be? She should have been arrested for ordering the marshals to shoot Sara with Tasers. She knew about Sara’s heart.

“You’re the headmaster?” I said.

“That’s correct, Callie.” She emphasized my name as if I had just been called for execution.

Her white hair was cut close at the sides, and the rest reached for the ceiling. She no longer wore her severe gray uniform or badge. Instead, she had on an expensive-looking wool suit with an orange scarf tucked in at the neck.

I wanted to take that scarf and pull it until her face turned blue.

“We’re here to discuss the CEO of Prime Destinations,” the chief of staff said.

“What about him?” Beatty asked.

Lauren joined us as the chief of staff continued. “We have a subpoena for the Senate investigation,” he said, taking out an envelope. “To examine any records that have to do with Prime Destinations and the institution.”

“What are you looking for?” Beatty asked as she opened the envelope. “Specifically?”

“We need to find where he’s hiding,” I said.

“The institution must know how to get in touch with him,” Lauren said. “Since they were doing business with him.”

Beatty shook her head as if we’d asked for a million dollars. “He always initiated contact with us. The previous headmaster had no way of getting in touch with him.”

“Perhaps there’s someone here—the assistant to the past headmaster—who might know more?” Lauren asked.

“She is gone as well.” Beatty’s lips formed a smug little smile as she handed the envelope back to the chief of staff.