The Gender End

by Bella Forrest

  Alejandro called it the “orange vine’s revenge,” but it was far more gruesome than it sounded. The liquid would burn through his skin, right through to his bones and vital organs.

  I stared, the sight too hideous to turn away from, and then lifted up my gun, firing a shot and ending his thrashing. It turned out that I couldn’t let him suffer after all, no matter how much he deserved it.

  Turning away from his disintegrating corpse, I looked around, realizing two things. One, I had lost Violet—everybody—in the mist, and two, I didn’t even have a map.

  Violet? I said cautiously into the comms. There was a burst of static, followed by… nothing. I tried a few more times, tapping the comms, and then gave up. We were either being blocked or the walls were interfering.

  I turned off the useless subvocalizer and slowly moved forward, searching for a wall. I kept a sharp eye out for orange vines, taking care to step over them. I was damned lucky that I hadn’t come into contact with one while I was chasing Peter.

  I was so preoccupied looking for a wall to orient myself and avoiding getting caught in the orange vines that I didn’t notice the toe of a boot peeking through the mist until it was too late, and I slammed into the person on the other side of a thick curtain of mist. That person made a startled noise, and a shot rang out, almost right next to my ear, making my ears ring from the proximity.

  “Thomas!” I shouted, and the flailing next to me stilled.

  “Viggo?” he asked, squinting up at me from where I had knocked him to the ground. I quickly checked to make sure I hadn’t pushed him into any vines, and then helped him stand upright.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here.”

  “He is,” came Owen’s voice, and I saw a dark shape approach and then step through the mist as though parting a curtain. “So am I. The comms aren’t working.”

  “I know,” I replied, looking around at the group I’d found myself with and feeling glad we’d developed a contingency plan. “So it’s time to move on to our backup plan. I wonder how Ms. Dale and Henrik knew there was a chance we were getting separated.”

  Thomas seemed not to notice my sarcasm. “The probability was too high to ignore,” he said. I looked at Owen, amused, and he shrugged.

  “Your mission is my mission?” he asked, and I smiled.

  “Don’t let my wife hear you say that. She might think we’re in love,” I quipped. “And yes… I think I’m the person with standing orders here, so you’re following me.”

  “Please. You aren’t my type either.”

  “My wounded heart,” I said, then shook off the levity. “Ms. Dale isn’t here, and I know she was going to cover the queen—so we’re sticking with my mission. Find a way to stop the Matrians from controlling the boys.”

  “All right,” replied Thomas. “But I also need to get to the terminal that controls the computer down here first. I have a program specifically for finding out where the highest traffic concerning transmissions is located.”

  “Well, let’s get you to that terminal,” said Owen, pulling out his compass and looking at it. “Where’s the nearest door?”

  Before either of us could answer, a growl reverberated in the room, trickling out slow and lethal. I motioned for silence, peering into the mist while Thomas looked at his handheld for the maps he had downloaded there, his focus unwavering as he searched for the nearest door. The mist roiled and moved, and I found myself despising these caves and the monsters inside. How shortsighted it had been for anyone to bring in creatures from The Green. If one got out, if it made its way into the palace… it could cause untold havoc.

  Owen reached out and tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned to see him pointing toward Thomas’ shadow, the smaller man having already gotten his bearings. I nodded and began to follow him, keeping my footsteps light and continuing to search the mist for any sign of our growler.

  After a while, the mist began to thin, and we came to a tunnel that was completely free of the blasted stuff. We moved down it, and relief streamed through my chest when I saw the massive airlock door at the end of it—and this one was closed. Apparently Elena hadn’t opened everything up in her mad gambit to rid herself of intruders.

  Thomas knelt down and pulled out the same little box with the cables he had handed Owen earlier. I shone my light through the door’s small window, while Owen took position by the tunnel entrance, keeping an eye out for anything trying to get through.

  The room beyond was slightly wider than the last chamber with an airlock door, but the walls were smooth and worn. I continued to look around, searching for any sign of movement, and felt a prickle of alarm go up my spine. I had an uncanny feeling that I was being watched.

  The instinct was too strong to ignore. I turned around to face the tunnel again, and tightened my grip on the handle of my gun. I lifted it and my flashlight higher. The light hit the mineral-rich wall, chasing away some of the shadows, and I panned it slowly left and right, starting closer to the bottom and moving up.

  About six feet up, the light cut across the toe of a boot, casting a shadow behind it.

  “Viggo?” Owen’s voice was hushed from the other end of the tunnel, but it reached me as I slowly swung the flashlight farther up.

  A leg came into view, covered in webbing, and I took a step back, my skin beginning to crawl. This caused the light to move up another foot or so, and three large arachnid legs—long, thin, and covered in coarse hair—came into view, draped over a man’s chest.

  I became aware of a soft scratching sound, and lifted my flashlight higher, to find the giant spider crouching over the man’s face, its mandible tearing the flesh off in small rips and tears. A multitude of black eyes glittered from the top of the head, and it moved slightly, its fat, heavy body settling in place over its kill.

  I fought back the urge to vomit, yanking my pistol up and firing round after silenced round. The bullets sank into the spider’s fat body as easily as cutting butter. Its prey fell from its legs, and the spider dropped onto the floor, rolling onto its back with a thump, its legs curling up and twitching. Immediately I heard something rustling overhead.

  “Viggo?”

  Ignoring Owen, I pulled the flashlight up and over, trying to track the source of the noise, and found two more sacks hanging from the tunnel’s walls—one with red organs already spilling out, but the other one moving under all those fine, delicate strands.

  “Help me,” I said as I hurried over to the cocoon, pulling my knife from my boot. I began to cut the webs away, but could only reach up halfway to the man’s thigh due to the way he was hanging. Owen’s knife moved on the other side, and then we grabbed his ankles and began pulling.

  The silk was strong—frightfully so—but with our combined strength, we managed to wrest the still-living man away. We caught him, and I sat him down as he frantically reached up and began peeling the webbing from his face.

  Maxen’s blue eyes met mine as he peeled more of it off, and then he sucked in a deep breath, as if he had been suffocating, and began coughing.

  “There’s two,” he wheezed, and I stepped back, redrawing my gun and looking around.

  Owen caught my eye and wet his lips.

  “Viggo, these are the spiders we harvest the silk from for the suits,” he said, his voice low and steady. “They’re normally quite shy, but if they’re starving, they’re deadly. We almost never discovered them or what their webbing could do, because—”

  Something rippled into view behind Owen, and I fired without thinking, catching the spider with three bullets as it leapt through the air toward Owen. He flinched and ducked, turning back, and I heard him swallow audibly.

  “They use it to hunt,” he finished.

  “I’m not going to die in here!” Maxen screamed, ripping his arms free and running for the airlock door. I had time to wish we’d left him in the cocoon before I looked up to see a wave of spiders—the smallest one the size of a ten- or eleven-year-old boy, the largest bigger than
a horse—dangling from strands of silk attached to the ceiling, watching us. As soon as my light cut across them, they vibrated slightly, and the next thing I knew they had disappeared. I began blind firing at where some of them had been, and Owen stepped up next to me.

  “HEY!” Thomas shouted.

  I turned to see Maxen, who had pushed his way through the door Thomas had gotten open, and was now trying to slam it shut. Thomas was wedging his body into the opening, struggling against the king.

  I moved to help when a spider fell on top of me, dropping me to the ground. Webbing, hot and slightly damp, began to shoot onto me from its backside. I struggled to bring my gun up, and then the creature went flying as Owen kicked it off of me and pulled me up. He gripped his rifle to fire a spray of bullets around the room, the sound reverberating loudly in the tunnel. As if the sounds had a physical effect, the spiders began to flicker in and out of visibility, the ones Owen caught in his spray falling dead to the floor or dangling ominously on their silk strands. The shots had obviously stunned them, but there were too many clinging to the walls. We needed to run.

  “Damn you, MOVE!” Maxen roared, his shout punctuated by a deafening gunshot just as Owen’s gun clicked empty, filling the room with silence. The spiders scattered for the moment, seeming to decide that there was too much noise. I turned and saw Thomas stumbling back a few steps, his breath coming in pants, as Maxen turned the airlock wheel and sealed himself inside.

  “Thomas!” Owen shouted, and Thomas shook his head, as if suddenly becoming aware of himself.

  “Owen?” he called in confusion, slowly turning toward us. “Owen, I’m sorry. I tried to hold the door.”

  I fired at a spider as it materialized out of thin air behind Thomas, ejecting the clip as the creature curled to one side and died.

  “Thomas!” Owen shouted in alarm, and I looked up from sliding in a new magazine to see the blood now soaking Thomas’ abdomen, around a clearly visible wound, staining his clothing in seconds.

  The little man looked down, his face morphing into an expression of surprise as his hands hovered just over the edges of the wound.

  “Oh,” he exclaimed softly. “He shot me.” The words were so simplistic, so hollow, that I felt my alarm turn to full-blown panic as Thomas listed to one side, toppling over like a building being knocked down.

  We both rushed toward him, but Owen managed to catch him before he hit, his hands cradling him and gently lowering him to the floor. Heartsick, I looked up through the door’s window to see Maxen already pushing open the door into the next observation station and disappearing within. Then I turned back to the gloomy room, searching for any sign of the spiders.

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  33

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  TIM

  When Violet said to run, I ran, my legs pumping as I sprang over the body of the Porteque man. I wasn’t sad to see him dead. I was angry—Maxen had killed one of my brothers. Again.

  I wanted him dead so bad I could taste it, but I couldn’t find him, even though I looked. I wasn’t sure which door he’d run out of or whether I was going in the right direction, but it didn’t stop me from looking. I ran and ran, skipping around obstacles that loomed out of the mist. Enhanced reflexes were awesome for avoiding bullets, but they didn’t help me track people, and after a while, I realized I was alone.

  I stopped and peered around the mist, looking around for any sign of life.

  My hairs stood up on end, just in a small spot—on the side of my neck, low, almost where my neck met my shoulder. I followed my instinct and surged forward, easily avoiding the silver python’s bite. I felt the snap of its jaws in a little pop of air behind me, pulled my gun, and fired a single round over my shoulder.

  I heard the satisfying sound of a thump as the snake’s body landed. I waited, and then began to run again, trying to think as I moved. I could feel rather than hear movement coming from my right, like something was trying to keep up, and from the soft slapping sounds of their feet, I realized it was those weird dog things.

  Suddenly I missed Samuel. But he had bonded with the other children of the refugee camp, and I’d had to let him go. They needed him more than I did, and the field was no place for a dog. I just wished I’d had more time with him. I’d felt like we were in freefall ever since Violet had found me.

  Violet. We had just found each other again, but now it was different. She was married now. I loved her, loved Viggo, but I knew that it meant it was time for me to move on. Be a grown up.

  I just wished I knew how to do that. Did I have to find a girlfriend now? How would that work, with my skin always hurting, aching, burning? Clothes itched, no matter how soft they were, and the suit…

  Stopping mid-motion wasn’t easy, but I had perfect balance. All the time. I stopped, just as the black wolf-monkey went flying at my face, its teeth snapping as it slid by, missing my position by inches. I ducked its tail, and it smashed against the wall with a yelp. I stared at it, watching as it picked itself up, staring at me through those little yellow eyes the entire time.

  It started forward, just as I’d known it would, and I charged it. Surprised, the thing took a few steps back, a growl of warning erupting viciously from its lips. There was… something in the mist behind it, and I feinted again, slowly pushing forward, driving the thing back a few more feet.

  The python waiting in the mist snapped its jaws, catching the wolf-monkey around its midsection and lifting it up. The python shook it back and forth in its mouth, the wolf-monkey’s legs kicking out as it whined, and then, with a gruesome crack, the smaller creature stopped moving.

  I watched the snake lower it down to the ground and begin swallowing it, fascinated by the way it could open its mouth wide enough to engulf the creature whole, and then turned to begin running again.

  I loved running. It filled me with a sense of freedom unparalleled. When I had been trapped in that cell, I’d never been able to run. There was no room to move in that tiny, suffocating space. Running felt like freedom. Obstacles just made the experience more fun. I never knew where they were, but I was never afraid—I was too fast for them to slow me down, and I could use them to my advantage. I liked jumping over things, and flipping was amazing, but launching myself even higher in the air so it felt like I was flying… That was the best.

  I needed to find Violet and Viggo, but as I ran, I began to realize the caves were too big. I stopped again, trying to pull my mind out of the pure joy of movement and think. I knew we had to get to Queen Elena… but we were also supposed to free my brothers. Both were important, both I wanted to do…

  I stopped, not really to catch my breath, but to think. We’d known we could possibly get separated, so there were people whose parts of the mission were supposed to override others so that we could work with the groups we had. But I was alone. Did that mean I should keep at the mission originally given to me? Probably.

  But I didn’t even know where I was going in the caves—and other people had had the same mission as me. It was probably already getting done without me. I’d been on my own before, but then I was just taking care of myself. This time, I wanted to know what to do that would work best for the mission.

  It wasn’t the solution, but I found myself reaching for a little pocket in my sleeve, where a small envelope was tucked. Violet had given it to me before we’d gotten onto the heloship. She’d made me promise not to open it unless something horrible happened. Unless she got hurt or… or… I cut that thought off. I knew my sister wasn’t dead. But I needed to open her letter now.

  Reading was difficult for me. I had learned in the orphanage—Violet had helped me—but after I fell into the river and was taken to the facility, I hadn’t been allowed to read. Well, there was nothing to read, really. Sometimes I wrote Violet’s and my names into the window when the condensation got high, but that was pretty much the only chance I’d gotten to practice.

  It took me several seconds to puzzle through the small script.
>
  Dear Tim, it began. She didn’t bother saying a bunch of things about what might have happened to her. I read through it, and though my hands never shook, I felt light and strange inside.

  Among everything she’d written—and it was a lot—some phrases stood out to me:

  I know we’ve only been back together for a short while, but it has been worth all the times I’ve searched and waited for you to have you back with me.

  I’ve watched you grow so much since we rescued you from the Facility.

  Viggo and I are married now, but that doesn’t change my feelings for you one bit. You’ve always been my family, and you will always be my little brother. If something happens to me, Viggo will always be your family now, too.

  I know you’ll make the right choices.

  I’m so proud of you.

  It didn’t help me with the mission, but it helped.

  I looked back down at the note, and frowned when I saw a few letters printed facing me. I had folded it so the words would be inside, like wrapping them in a blanket. Curious, I unfolded it and realized there were words on the other side, too.

  I love you, Tim, it read. A secret message within a secret message. I felt warmth growing inside me, even in this horrible place.

  Refolding the paper and stuffing it back into the pocket of my suit, I took a few steps forward and then sidestepped the python that had been waiting for me to move for several minutes. I wasn’t sure if its vision was bad or what, but as its jaws snapped closed on nothing, I leapt back over its coiled body, and then began to run again, trying to give it the slip.

  I thought as I ran. Violet’s letter hadn’t changed the situation, but it had filled me with more confidence, like a hug from her—always worth it, even though it made my skin ache—or laughing and joking around with Jay. I would follow the mission I was given, unless I had to improvise.