The Gender End

by Bella Forrest

  Something scrambled through the grass, long nails clicking on the rock just below the moss, and I looked over my shoulder to see a long neck rear up about four feet off the ground, squat legs practically springing up the slope, long tail whipping back and forth. Atop the long neck sat a triangular head, wide eye sockets containing red and yellow eyes with a slit running down the middle.

  The creature’s jaw dropped open, and something oozed out, a thick, yellow, viscous fluid that seemed to come out of the gums surrounding tiny rows of small pointed teeth. It reared back, a hissing sound escaping it—and then Owen’s gun went off loudly, the bullet cutting through its open mouth, nearly separating the jaw from the rest of the body.

  The goliath slumped over and rolled, its momentum still carrying it forward, and I picked up the pace, not wanting to get entangled.

  “Don’t let them spit on you!” Owen had slowed to fire his gun, so we were running side by side again, the ladder looming closer.

  Owen sprang up it first, scaling the rungs quickly. I was fast behind him, my hands grasping the metal, and I climbed without looking back, knowing it would only slow me down.

  A quarter of the way up, I heard a shout of “Wait!”

  Looking over my shoulder, I saw Maxen racing to us, and realized he had somehow gotten behind us—gotten attacked or turned around—and had just found the mossy patch. He emerged from the grass, and I saw three moving trails converging behind him. I wrapped an arm around the bar and pulled my gun.

  “Don’t,” Owen said harshly, and I looked up to see him turning away from Maxen, continuing up the ladder. I hesitated, and then thought of Thomas, lying all alone in that airlock by himself. He would never talk about percentages again. Never again have an awkward social faux pas in one of those uniquely Thomas moments that, despite everything, I had come to enjoy about him. The king of Patrus hadn’t thought about him as a person at all, even though he’d had plenty of time to get to know him. He’d shot him when he was defenseless, his only crime trying to keep the door open for me and Owen.

  I’d ignored Maxen’s cowardice before, time and time again, protected him in spite of it. This time, I turned away as Maxen slipped and fell, hitting the mossy ground with a whump. The clicking of talons on rock sounded, and Maxen groaned—and then began screaming. I steeled myself and didn’t look back as the Goliaths began chittering again, Maxen’s screams still audible over the sound until we reached the top.

  Owen reached the hatch ahead, cursed when he saw it was locked, and shoved a data chip he had pulled from Thomas’ bag into the lock’s port. I paused beneath him, trying to shut out the screams that were still coming up from behind me, reminding myself that the king had shot my friend in cold blood to save his own hide.

  The door beeped, and Owen removed the data chip and pushed it open with a groan. As he did there was a loud crunch, clear even from this far away, and Maxen’s screams went quiet. I wasn’t ashamed to admit that I was relieved when he finally died.

  He had gotten what he deserved.

  I climbed through the hatch and closed the door behind me. Looking over at Owen, I saw a grim, satisfied gleam in his eyes.

  “Did Thomas give you any instructions on how to override security protocols?” I asked as I straightened up to look at the room, finding it similar to the ones we’d been through before, with two doors, still empty and desolate. The only notable thing was a sign that said “Access to Palace” next to the left door. That would be the one we’d be taking.

  Owen pulled out the notebook, flipping it open to the first page and studying it. I looked over his shoulder and saw that the page he was perusing was an index. After a brief pause, Owen flipped to a page and nodded.

  “Yeah.”

  “Does this room contain the, uh, master control computer, or whatever it’s called?”

  “Master terminal,” Owen said, sitting down at a workstation and powering the terminal on. “Let me check.” He referred to Thomas’ notebook, and then reached into the bag Thomas had given him, pulling out handful after handful of data sticks and sifting through them. “I’m looking for number twelve,” he told me, running a hand through the pile to spread them around.

  I began sifting and found number twelve within seconds. I gave it to Owen, and he plugged it into the drive, turning on the terminal. He sat down in a chair, propping up Thomas’ notebook, so he could follow the directions. A black screen opened up and filled with lines and lines of green code, illuminating Owen’s face, making him appear almost sickly. He nodded.

  “It’s a master terminal. What do you want me to do?"

  “Our team is down below with who knows how many doors they need to try and get open. Let’s clear a path for them—open all the doors and hatches. Including the ones that lead to the palace.”

  “All of them?” he repeated in question form, his eyebrows going up. He blinked, and then a slow smile grew wide on his lips. “You’re gonna cause a little chaos, eh?”

  “Hell yeah,” I replied, crossing over to the sole terminal in the room, and then paused. “They’ll be all right,” I stated, more for myself than for him.

  “Of course they will,” he replied, tapping out a series of commands on the terminal. “Besides, they can’t open the doors safely without drawing attention to themselves, so it’s better this way.” He hit enter, and immediately code began to run across the screen, ones and zeros scrolling by faster than I could process. Then the screen froze. For a second nothing happened. And then it went dark as both of the airlock doors in this room began to swing open at the same time. Immediately I could hear the sounds of The Green pouring in through the door on the right, opposite the door leading to the palace, and it was noisy. We maybe had minutes before something got in here to get to us. Maybe less.

  I went back over to the hatch and hauled it open, leaving it standing upright on its side, and then grabbed my bag as Owen swept the chips back into his. I exited and stepped out into the cavern beyond. Once we were both a good distance away from the airlock door, I ripped off my mask and took in a slow breath, checking the air. As I suspected, the atmosphere from the simulated version of The Green wasn’t persistent.

  “We’re good,” I told him, stuffing my mask into my bag. We followed the cave as it led up, slowly tapering in and curving around at a meandering pace. Eventually, we came to a door built into a wooden frame, and I slowed to a stop. It didn’t look automatic—maybe that was why it hadn’t been opened like the lab doors—but Owen stepped forward and twisted the doorknob, and it opened with no noise, no alarm, no problem.

  I pulled up my gun as we got our first glimpse of the darkened room within. Pulling my flashlight out of my pocket, I clicked it on and stepped inside, shining it around the room and revealing a small library, with elegant sitting furniture positioned in the center of the room. Owen stepped in behind me.

  Hello? came Amber’s voice through the earbud, and I jolted in surprise at the unexpected sound. Is anyone receiving me? she asked.

  I turned my subvocalizer on. Amber? Is that you?

  Oh, Viggo. Thank God. She paused to breathe out noisily, and then continued. Who’s with you?

  Owen, I said. Thomas… Thomas didn’t make it.

  No, she breathed, and her mic cut off suddenly.

  A second later Vox’s voice filled the silence.

  Viggo. It’s just us here, so we were going to follow Amber’s mission of working to save the boys.

  That’s what we’re doing too. Is Amber okay?

  She will be, but she’s… She needs a minute. There was deep concern in Vox’s voice, but also confidence, like he knew whatever she was going through would last only moments, yet ached that she suffered. I wasn’t sure how I had realized that. Maybe because Violet was the same way… But I was just glad he was there for Amber.

  Have you heard from Violet? Ms. Dale? Morgan? I left Tim out, but I worried about him. Without a subvocalizer, he couldn’t respond to us, so it would be useless speculating. I
just had to hope he would be listening to us to figure out where we were, and try to meet us en route.

  No. We exited the lab on the south side of the palace. Amber mentioned that when you guys escaped here last time, Owen and Ms. Dale got into the security room to shut their transmissions down while you and Violet escaped?

  Owen met my gaze.

  We did, he said into the subvocalizer. And I know where it is. Meet us at the east stairwell.

  There was a long pause, and then Amber returned, her voice low and urgent.

  Go without us, she said hurriedly. Guards just found us.

  Her mic cut off suddenly, and my ears were left in silence once again. I involuntarily tightened my hand against my gun. There was nothing we could do to help our teammates other than fulfill our part of the mission.

  Change channel to F frequency, I transmitted to Owen. My heart was heavy, but keeping our communication safe was of utmost importance. Owen gave me a thumbs-up and clicked over a second before I did. Then I took one last look at the doorway leading back to the caves before nodding at Owen, signaling for him to open the door that would lead us deeper into the palace.

  OceanofPDF.com

  36

  OceanofPDF.com

  VIOLET

  I followed Ms. Dale as Morgan led us through the rectangular ducts, the thin metal rattling loudly as we crawled. We paused for a moment, and then moved forward, and I realized the duct had stopped and turned sharply upward. I panicked at first, before realizing there was a ladder. I guessed I wasn’t the only one who went climbing around in ducts—maintenance had to get up here sometimes.

  Ms. Dale climbed rapidly, Morgan somewhere ahead of her, her feet making almost no noise. I followed, trying not to think about how far down the bottom was steadily becoming. We climbed for what felt like forever, but was probably less than a minute, before stopping again. Morgan whispered something, but Ms. Dale’s body blocked most of the noise, making it indiscernible.

  There was a rustling sound, and another long pause.

  “What’s going on?” I whispered, slightly on edge.

  A sharp beep sounded, muted but recognizable, and then something shifted, light spilling through a hole at the top of the shaft. Morgan pulled herself up and then leaned over to help Ms. Dale out. She was panting, but she heaved herself through.

  I climbed quickly, my nerves starting to get to me, and pulled myself through as fast as I could. I dragged my legs out, and Morgan put the metal floor plate down. My eyes soon adjusted to the new light as I stood up and looked around.

  “Where are we?” I asked, knowing there was no real way to answer that question. The room looked exactly like the other workstations we had seen; the only difference was that we had entered it through a ventilation duct. It wasn’t one of the misty rooms that simulated The Green, but a group of computers and darkened monitoring systems.

  Ms. Dale, as always, was quick to correct my assumption that there was no more information to be had, even if she was unaware I had made it.

  “Second level,” she said, her breathing harsh and heavy. I looked up and saw that sweat was pouring from her forehead, and then my gaze dropped to her arm, noticing the fabric of her Liberator suit was stretching tight over her forearm.

  “Ms. Dale…” Her eyes met mine, and she shook her head.

  “I’m fine,” she grated out, reaching to grab a desk and pulling herself up. “We need to head up another level.”

  “How do you know that?” Morgan asked, standing from her squat.

  “I memorized the map,” Ms. Dale said softly, her eyes moving around the room. “Also, the labs have designations.”

  She pointed to something on the wall, and I noticed a sign like the one we’d encountered at the entrance to the caves. The top one was the lab name—2A—and the second one read “Access to 2B.” I looked across the room at the other airlock, and saw “Access to 1D.” I felt like an idiot for not noticing those sooner.

  “We need that one,” Ms. Dale said, gesturing to the one labeled “1D.” “Here, Morgan,” she said, holding out a data stick to her.

  Morgan accepted it and moved over to the door to hack it, and I approached Ms. Dale.

  “Ms. Dale… what do you want me to do about your arm?” I asked, and she shook her head, finally seeming to catch her breath.

  “Nothing,” she replied. She met my gaze, and her face softened slightly. “It’ll be all right,” she reassured me.

  It didn’t work—I was worried about her—but there was nothing we could do about it, and that was probably what Ms. Dale wanted me to understand. For half a second I considered meeting Elena at the lab and honoring our arrangement… but I had to toss the idea aside again, needlessly reminding myself that she would never honor any deal I made with her.

  “Violet!” Morgan called, her voice slightly panicked, and I turned to look at her as she stepped away from the door. Through a window in the airlock wall, I could see the outer airlock opening up, and I quickly yanked my mask from my bag.

  The inner airlock door began to open by itself, the hand wheel turning without anybody’s aid, and I slipped the mask over my head. Ms. Dale was still fumbling with hers, her swollen arm trembling slightly as she tried to grab the straps. I reached over and plucked it out of her grip, slipping it onto her head and pulling it down over her face.

  She shot me a grateful look as she sucked in a breath, and I turned to see Morgan backing away from the door a few steps, her mask once again on her face. It swung open, as did the ones behind us, and then… nothing.

  We exchanged looks.

  “Why did they suddenly open?” Morgan asked, and I shook my head.

  “No clue,” Ms. Dale said. “Still, this might make things a little easier for us. We just need to find the ladder leading up to the third level.”

  “All right,” Morgan replied, shaking out her shoulders. “That should be easy en—”

  An angry bellow drowned out the rest of her words, and I turned to see a black-clad man racing toward us through the airlock. I leapt back, dragging Ms. Dale with me as he charged into the lab. I let go of Ms. Dale as he swung between us, trying to knock both of us down with a single blow, and he missed, stumbling forward a few steps.

  He caught me as he stumbled past, though, and I spun, hitting the ground hard, pain erupting in my shoulder and hip from where I hit the floor. I couldn’t wait the pain out—I picked myself up to see Morgan stepping under a wild haymaker thrown by the man, who’d ended up closest to her.

  Then Ms. Dale pushed off the wall to deliver a sharp kick to the back of his knee, and he tumbled forward, hitting the floor hard. I pulled out one of the tranquilizer darts from the sheath inside my suit. The young man—he could only be one of the enhanced boys—levered himself up with his arms as Ms. Dale moved past him, out the opposite airlock. I ran to him, jamming the needle into his side as he started to pick himself up.

  He didn’t seem to notice as I leapt over his legs, and I looked over my shoulder as I ran through the airlock to see him weaving back and forth, struggling to stand. Relief passed through me, but it lasted only until I heard two more angry bellows from the open doors, following me as I ran across the mossy floor of the cave we’d entered.

  Ahead of me, I spied Morgan as she suddenly ducked low, and I followed suit, narrowly missing a tree branch obscured by the mist. She dodged right, and I followed her up a steep incline, my thighs beginning to burn. The mist started to dissipate as I climbed, and I could make out Morgan, and even Ms. Dale, more clearly.

  Behind me, I heard the thudding of heavy feet, and glanced back to see two more older boys in black charging after me, maybe twenty feet behind. I poured on the speed, a stitch forming in my side, and Morgan glanced my way and then started to drop back.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, and she looked at me, just as Ms. Dale shouted, “The ladder!”

  I looked up to see a long ladder running down from the ceiling of this chamber. Ms. Dale was alrea
dy at it, leaping to grab a rung farther up, while the footsteps behind me grew closer. Morgan gave me another look as I passed her, and then she turned and leapt into the air. I didn’t see what happened as I ran, but there was the sound of something hitting something, and I looked back to see one boy on the ground, the other swinging at Morgan as she easily avoided him.

  I almost plowed into the ladder, I was moving so fast, but managed to stop myself short by catching the rungs. And then I was climbing. I moved quickly, my hands and feet flying, trying to give Morgan some room, and turned back in time to see her leap from the ground and plant her foot on another boy’s shoulder, kicking off it and twisting in midair. She landed just below me on the ladder, shouting, “Climb!”

  I moved, spurred by the angry noises coming from below us. Above me, Ms. Dale was closing the distance to the hatch secured in the ceiling, and I was halfway down when the ladder shook violently in my hands. My heart lurched as I heard a metallic groan, and I felt the ladder move a solid inch to the left. That sensation was like a nightmare.

  “GO GO GO!” Morgan yelled, her hand pushing roughly at my backside in an effort to get me to climb faster.

  I did, fear of falling lending another boost of adrenaline to my already flying limbs. Ms. Dale was pushing the door open, and the ladder jerked back to the right, the boy below angrily trying to dislodge us. I kept going, my mind on the bars ahead, and suddenly Ms. Dale was helping to pull me through.

  I turned around to help her grab Morgan, latching onto one arm. She gave a yelp, and then I felt all of her weight transfer to me, and I realized the ladder had been torn out from beneath her. I grunted, taking a moment to readjust my body weight and brace her better, and then Ms. Dale and I began to pull her up, until she was lying on the floor, panting.

  We stayed like that for a heartbeat or two, just trying to catch our breaths.