The Gender End

by Bella Forrest

  I stood, firing at the grill, expending the magazine into it, hoping for a one in a million chance. I ducked back down, almost disappointed—but then smoke began to pour first from the front of the car, then through the cracks in the side. The pursuit car immediately dropped back, slowing down. Viggo sped away, and I pulled my coat around myself and exhaled.

  Great shooting, Violet, Owen praised, and I smiled grimly as I ejected the second magazine. He passed me a new one, and I slapped it in.

  We plowed down the street and rounded the corner, and another vehicle appeared behind us, the headlights already angling toward us. I cursed and started to stand up again, when Viggo’s arm shot across my chest.

  Hold on to something, he ordered, and the next thing I knew, everything jolted as Viggo took the car up over the curb, driving down the sidewalk.

  There weren’t many people in the way, but the few who were out walking scattered to avoid us in a panic. I had a moment to spot a newspaper stand ahead—and then Viggo hit it with Ashabee’s reinforced vehicle, catching the inside of it and pushing it out into the road with a bang. The vehicle behind us, still on the road, swerved to avoid it, but kept pace, coming up on the curb right behind us.

  Viggo grinned, and I hurriedly put on my seatbelt, my hands going to the dashboard.

  Viggo? I said as I saw the columns of a nearby building in front of us, the ones being used to support the second-story balcony. And then he crashed into the first one.

  I couldn’t believe how easily it fell apart. I jerked forward against my belt, and then we hit the second, shattering it in a plume of dust and stone. He jerked the wheel to the right and we came back on the road, just as a corner of the balcony began to break apart. I turned, searching it for people, and was relieved to find none—it was too chilly to be eating outside.

  This is the intersection! Thomas announced as Viggo darted through it, and two more vehicles joined the first, still trailing dust after escaping the collapsing balcony. I groaned and began to unbuckle the belt, when Ms. Dale’s voice cut across the comms. She must have been listening in on our channel the whole time.

  Viggo, turn right.

  He immediately swerved to the right, then cursed and violently jerked the wheel. Just where we’d been headed, I saw a flash of my mentor standing in the middle of the street, a familiar-looking tube thrown over her shoulder, a smoke trail billowing out from behind it as she braced herself against the kickback of a shot.

  The rocket caught the lead vehicle behind us right underneath the engine, and the SUV flew into the air and rotated, the tail end coming forward until the entire thing was upside down. It landed with a crash, crumpling the cab, as Viggo slammed on the brakes and came to a halt.

  I blinked, trying to clear the dizziness caused by our spinning retreat, and looked back to see Ms. Dale picking up a second launcher and firing it. The shot caught the second car in the side, and it rolled, slamming into a building.

  Ms. Dale tossed down the second tube and raced toward us, the third and final vehicle slamming into the burning wreckage of the other two cars and flipping onto its side.

  Are you crazy? Viggo demanded as she opened the back door and climbed in.

  Coming along on this mission was my bloody wedding gift to you, she practically snarled as she slammed the door. To keep you safe! I can’t do that if you won’t let me.

  That’s no excuse to—

  Shut up and drive already, Viggo, she ordered, her eyes narrowing. You can bitch at me about the mission after we get to the palace.

  Viggo opened his mouth and then slammed it shut, putting the car into gear and driving off.

  There was a long period of silence, and then Thomas cleared his throat. It’s, uh… It’s all clear ahead, he announced awkwardly.

  OceanofPDF.com

  28

  OceanofPDF.com

  VIOLET

  The streets were darker now, lights shutting down overhead as it grew too late in the evening for anyone to be out. Businesses were closed, everything shuttered and eerily quiet.

  I felt more exposed like this, like someone could see us easily, and Viggo dimmed the lights as we drove. I looked out the window as the streets curved around, staring at the buildings and down the alleys that periodically broke them apart, their edges lit by the silver light of the moon.

  It was full tonight, illuminating everything in pale blue tones with highlights of white. That was what allowed me to see the palace through the buildings as we flew down the road. Lights were on, giving it a warm and approachable feeling, but I knew what lurked inside. That mad chase through the city had only been practice. This was where everything got really dangerous.

  Viggo drifted right as the road forked, and the buildings went away as we moved down a slight incline, suddenly surrounded by trees and vegetation. The road rolled underneath us in a slow S curve, then leaned slightly more to the right, until it ended rather suddenly at the edge of a wide meadow.

  Morgan, Amber, Logan, and Tim were already there, unloading their car. We pulled up next to them, and Viggo shut the car off and climbed out. The rest of us followed suit, and Owen and I moved around to the back to start pulling our gear out. Who knew how long we had to get ready before they found us? We worked quickly.

  One by one we stripped down to our Liberator suits, moving silently. Our bulletproof vests would be worn underneath them tonight so that they wouldn’t show when we used the cloaking function, but there was nothing we could do about our bags or guns, other than put them down or try to stand behind something, using that to hide what we were carrying.

  Viggo was busy as we got ready—he and Thomas were setting up a transmitter and pointing it toward Patrus, trying to boost our subvocalizer transmission so we could check in and update Henrik. I grabbed my husband’s (my husband’s!) gear and moved over, intent on getting him in it as he transmitted.

  He nodded at me as I approached and then sat down, allowing me to unzip the top of his suit and maneuver the vest over his head, making sure the straps were well on. It was a clunky move and added time to our stop here, but we hadn’t been able to make up a plausible excuse to tell the Matrian guards why our prisoners needed bulletproof vests, so we’d had to go without protection during the earlier part of the plan. This part relied much more on stealth—if we got caught, there was no feigning innocence or talking our way out of it, and we would be needing these vests. I noticed that Morgan had already dispensed with her wig, complaining that her head itched.

  “It’s ready, Viggo,” Thomas said. His subvocalizer was off, I assumed so as not to get in the way of Viggo’s transmission.

  Viggo nodded. Patience, this is Harbinger, come back.

  I squinted at Thomas, mouthing the word “harbinger” at him, and he shrugged. “Good names fill people with confidence,” he mumbled, and I smiled.

  This is Patience, Henrik replied. Listen, there’s no time to talk. I don’t know where you are with Silver Fox—I looked at Thomas, and he mouthed Alyssa’s name at me—but we got problems here. More boys have been spotted on roads leading into the city. We’ve fortified our stronghold and ordered people to draw back to defend it, but it’s only going to be so long before someone starts firing.

  We’re moving on to the second protocol, but they know we’re here. They’re expecting us, Viggo replied.

  Then I hope you give them hell, Harbinger. And get us out of this before we have to start killing these boys.

  Roger that.

  Viggo nodded at Thomas, and Thomas shut off the long-distance transmitter, moving swiftly to break it back down. I heard one of the vehicles start and looked over in time to see Ms. Dale driving it toward some trees growing in a tight cluster, followed by Morgan starting hers up as well. The only thing left inside was Desmond’s body, and if we died inside the palace, it could be a few days before anyone found the vehicles. We wanted to make sure of that, at least.

  I shuddered and stepped back as Viggo pulled up the sleeves of his sui
t and zipped it up. He smoothed his hands over it, and I handed him his bag.

  “That should be everything,” I said, turning off the subvocalizer for now. If only for this moment, I wanted to hear my husband’s voice responding to mine. “You have ten pounds of semtex with detonators, a mask in case there’s any tear gas, a knife, the tranquilizer gun with five darts for Elena or any boys you encounter, waterproof bags—” He let out a surprised laugh, and I shot him a look as I continued, “The special canteens that pull water out of the air, some rations, extra magazines… Have I forgotten anything?”

  He bent over and placed a kiss on the top of my head. “Of course not. Best wife ever,” he said in a low voice in my ear, and my stomach dropped a little, my body growing warm with desire and anticipation. I somehow managed to take a slow breath and push the feeling down—now was not the time for me to be lusting over my husband. Even if he did look amazing in his Liberator suit and tactical gear, with his long hair gathered behind his neck and the spectacles still perched on his nose.

  He moved over toward where Owen was now helping Thomas get his gear on, and I trailed after him, bending over to scoop up my own bag and weapon.

  “I really want to tell you about the notebook and stuff I brought, Owen,” Thomas was saying as we walked up. Owen was focused on trying to cinch him into his bulletproof vest. Unfortunately, I could immediately see what the problem was: Thomas’ belly was a bit too rotund for the strap to slip through and then double back to cinch down on the other side.

  “Suck it in, Thomas,” Owen grated, tugging hard at the strap, and Thomas yelped in pain. Owen made a frustrated noise and let go of the strap. “This isn’t going to work,” he announced.

  “Then let me leave it off,” Thomas replied, shifting his shoulders. “It’s heavy and hot and itchy, and I’d rather not. Besides, I really need to explain the system I created here, so you can use it as effectively as possible in the event I—”

  “Knock it off, Thomas,” Owen growled, raking a hand through his blonde hair. “You’re starting to make me nervous.”

  “What?” Thomas blinked, his face reflecting his surprise. “No, I just wanted to prepare you on the off chance I—”

  “Knock it off, Thomas,” Owen repeated, slightly louder this time, and Thomas sighed.

  “All right, Owen. Here, help me get this off.”

  “Hurry up, you two,” Viggo said as he bent over and picked up Thomas’ handheld. “How do I search for RF waves again?” he asked.

  “Left column, third one down. Sniffer.exe. Just hit it, and the modifications I made to the handheld will be red on the screen. Red blobs indicate where the activity is concentrated.”

  Viggo began to move the handheld around as Owen helped Thomas pull off the vest. Thomas zipped his suit up quickly, and bent over to pick up his bags.

  “Anything?” he called, and Viggo shook his head.

  Thomas moved over, his short legs moving briskly, and plucked the handheld from Viggo’s hands. He adjusted a few buttons on the screen and began swinging it around, whether nervously or just plain impatiently, it was hard to tell. After a moment, he smiled, and nodded.

  “Over there,” he said, pointing.

  Viggo moved over to it, Thomas and the rest of us behind him. Tim nudged his way over, and I reached out to tousle his hair.

  “Do you have the serum Dr. Tierney gave you?” I asked, and he nodded.

  “In bag. What now?”

  Viggo kicked the ground a few times, finding one place that seemed more disturbed than the rest, and one kick reverberated slightly. Squatting down, he felt around in the dirt, and then pulled back handful after handful of wet grass and earth, until he seemed to find something about half an inch down. He pulled a few more handfuls away, and then dug his fingers into something, and a square bit of earth bounced up half an inch at an angle. He pulled it open, revealing a flat door with a keypad on it.

  “We’re going down there,” I told Tim, and he gave me an annoyed look.

  “I know. You be okay? You hate tunnels.”

  I shrugged. “Not as much as I hate falling,” I replied, and he smiled.

  “Maybe you go first,” he said with a wink, and I resisted the urge to push him. Instead I turned toward him and checked his uniform.

  “Are you wearing your vest?” I asked, and he nodded. “Have you tested the suit yet?”

  Tim hesitated and then nodded again.

  “Hurts,” he informed me, and I frowned, a pang of fear going through me. If he couldn’t use it, then that meant he could be exposed and vulnerable in a fight.

  I couldn’t think about that now. Viggo had told me about Tim’s abilities in the field. I had to trust that my brother was more than capable of taking care of himself.

  “You’ll be okay,” I said quietly, sensing that he needed my reassurance. “Tim Bates—unstoppable ultimate warrior.”

  He gave me an incredulous look and shook his head, his gray eyes returning to where Thomas was now hacking into the door, trying to get it open.

  “Don’t like fighting,” he said after a minute. “Too much sad people. Too much crying.”

  My face fell, and I nodded. “I know, Tim. Believe me, I know.”

  Morgan jogged over, finished with hiding the car, and looked around. “How are we doing?” she asked, her eyes moving over to Thomas and Viggo, crouched over the door.

  “We’re in,” Thomas announced—whether he had heard Morgan or was just informing the rest of us, I wasn’t sure—and there was a sharp hiss as the door was pulled open. Viggo turned on his flashlight and shone it into the hole below, revealing metal rungs embedded in the rock, the ladder running down a stone tube that was maybe three feet wide.

  I swallowed as I looked at it, and then put the fear aside, reminding myself that it was better than falling. It was strange, but the thought comforted me. Viggo swung in first and began moving down the ladder, seemingly unbothered.

  “You don’t think we’ll encounter anyone coming up?” asked Amber, and Morgan shrugged.

  “I doubt it. The entrances to the caves were sealed up by my mother. I wasn’t even sure where all the doors were.”

  “Neither was the spy who got the plans,” said Thomas as he slipped his backpack on, his trusty handheld secured around his wrist by a tight black cloth with a bit of fabric cut away in the middle, revealing the screen. “The map only shows the tunnel systems and which doors lead to the palace. Where each door opens in the palace is a complete mystery. Subvocalizers on.”

  He began moving down the tunnel as he spoke, following his own order and switching to transmit his voice into our ears for the last of the sentence. I followed suit and watched, my heartbeat rising in tempo, as Logan entered, followed by Amber and Ms. Dale—then, finally, I was up, taking a step onto a lower rung and holding the sides of the passage until I was far enough down to grab one with my hands. Tim and Morgan followed me, and I bit my lip when Morgan closed the heavy door above us, cutting off even the starlight.

  There was a bit of light coming up to me from below, probably Viggo’s flashlight, but the tunnel was still so dark. Dark and tight. I paused, taking a moment to grab my own flashlight, turn it on, and slip it into my mouth.

  We descended in absolute silence, but our movements and steps in the tunnel generated enough of an echo to worry me. At one point Tim stepped on my hand, and I cried out—my voice was silenced by the subvocalizers, but transmitted to everyone else. I heard my own hiss of pain distorting over the line, followed by Tim’s un-subvocalized apology echoing off the walls, and I shook out my aching fingers and continued to move, allowing a bit of a lead to grow between me and Ms. Dale.

  The way down was long—long enough for me to start thinking uncomfortable thoughts. If I fell, would I kill everyone below me? I stopped myself before going down that road. I was being morbid.

  To take my mind off of the stress of being in such a tight space, I began to count rungs as they passed under my hands. I was at tw
o hundred and fifty-eight when Viggo announced, I see the bottom, and I narrowly avoided shouting “Yay!” into the comms channel. After another fifty rungs, I was at the bottom too, shaking out my aching legs and forearms, straining to catch my breath.

  How far down are we? I asked as I shone the light around the wide room, the minerals in the walls glittering. The cave floor looked to be dry, but stalagmites grew in tight little bunches from the floor, with a smooth path cutting through them. I looked around for an explanation for this marvelous path, and noticed that the stalactites above had been cut off over it, left broken to prevent anything from growing beneath. It must have been designed and shaped by human hands—though how they’d accomplished that feat, I had no idea.

  Three hundred feet, give or take, replied Thomas, pulling out his handheld and moving it around the room. Got a reading up ahead.

  Viggo, Ms. Dale called sharply, and I turned to see her pointing at a sign on the side of the cave wall, with two phrases inscribed on it. “Escape Route” was the top one, and it had an arrow pointing up, I assumed to indicate the direction we’d come from. “East Lab” was the second one, and it pointed to the right, the same way Thomas was directing us.

  A lab? I asked. Is it possible Mr. Jenks did his research here?

  That makes sense. It would have been close to Elena to monitor the pregnancies, and no one would bother him down here. Ms. Dale followed Thomas as she spoke, her flashlight panning around, and I followed, the group of us forming a single-file line to make our way down the narrow passage. Morgan?

  He was there a lot when I was a child, so that seems likely enough, she said, flipping her dark bangs anxiously. I’m just glad he never brought me down here to study me.

  Yeah, this cave doesn’t exactly scream happy childhood memories, does it? Owen added dryly, and I smiled in spite of myself.

  I got a door, Thomas announced, cutting through our small talk, and our line of people paused and flattened out against one of the walls. I stuck my head out slightly and saw the door—then paused, alarm bells going off in my mind.