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The Gender Lie

Page 23

by Bella Forrest


  Desmond held a hand up toward them and made a little backward motion. The boys stepped back reluctantly, and she moved closer to me, until we were almost touching. When she spoke, her voice was pitched so low that it was almost difficult for me to hear her. “My dear boy, what makes you think Owen is going to be all right?”

  I glared at her as she stepped back, and Violet stifled a cry behind me, making my anger burn more intensely. After all, it was a cruel logic—sending a man to plant a bomb and live would only endanger the entire group. No, better to kill that person, so that she was the only one who knew the secret.

  “You’re a monster,” I hissed.

  Desmond laughed. “Oh, Viggo, Viggo, Viggo,” she chided, her smile growing even wider. “Surely you’ve heard that one man’s monster is another man’s hero. I do what others can’t or won’t, and I do it with pride. I can and will make changes to this world, our world, and I will make it a better place. Just you wait.”

  I shook my head. “Thousands of innocents will die for this. Please, you have to see reason! I understand you have hatred for Matrus, and even Patrus… but the toll it will take… It’s not worth it!”

  Desmond shrugged. “Casualties of a corrupt system cannot concern the just and the oppressed. Not if we ever want to take back power.”

  A few of the boys nodded in agreement. It was clear that Desmond was beyond unreasonable, she was insane—but her words were reaching into the darkest parts of the boys and speaking to them exclusively.

  Desmond held out her hand. Immediately, several masks were held up by the boys, and she began grabbing them and tossing them to us one by one. I glowered at her, but placed the mask over my face, making sure it was tight and secure.

  “So here’s how it’s going to go,” Desmond said. “You are going to be given a… hmm… three-hour head start to escape. Then I’m going to send the boys after you, to implement some of the skills you’ve been teaching them. They will be ordered to kill you on sight. I would say good luck, but honestly… I am saving my good luck for the boys you betrayed.” She reached out and patted the shoulder of one of the boys—it was Cody, the boy who had challenged me on the first day of training. He smiled viciously at me and I swallowed, trying to maintain my calm.

  The boys started to push in on us, forcing us to fight or go into the airlock that stood open behind us. I was the last to be pushed in, making sure to keep steady eye contact with Desmond as I backed into the smaller room. Once I was inside the doorframe, one of the boys closed the doors, sealing us in.

  I turned to the others. “All right,” I breathed. “It looks like we’re going to have to get to the river as fast as possible.”

  The room began to fill with gas, and I felt my eardrums tighten and pop as the air pressure changed slightly. Violet gazed at me from behind her mask, her eyes reflecting her concern and apprehension.

  “Viggo, many of the boys are faster than us—we won’t get that much of a head start on them.”

  I nodded. “It’s true, but if we can make it to the river in time, we’ll escape,” I promised.

  I looked into each set of eyes and nodded confidently at them. They seemed to accept my words, which was a relief in its own right. I certainly wasn’t confident, but I had hope that we would make it. At the very least, I knew I could buy them some time, if necessary.

  Just then, the gas stopped filtering in, and the light on the door leading to the toxic forest beyond turned green.

  I nodded to the others. “Go,” I ordered firmly, as I pushed the door open.

  36

  Violet

  As soon as my boots hit the soft mossy earth, I started running, heading in the direction of the river. Desmond had given us nothing save the clothes on our backs and the masks on our faces, so I had to use the small amount of early morning sunlight filtering through the trees to best determine our direction.

  We were lucky that the sun had begun to rise because we had a lot of ground to cover, and no light to illuminate our way when it got dark. We needed to put as much distance between ourselves and the boys as possible. I heard the others’ feet hitting the ground as we ran, and I slowed down, allowing Tim, who was guiding Samuel, and Ms. Dale to pass me so that I could run with Viggo at the rear. Once we were jogging side by side, I shot Viggo a look.

  “Why the river?” I asked.

  Viggo glanced at me. “I managed to call for backup,” he said with a subtle smile, and I felt a smile forming on my own lips. He was doing his whole ambiguous shtick, and to be honest, I enjoyed it. It was difficult to explain, but it nurtured a hope that we would live to see his next move. It was almost like an incentive on his behalf—living so I could see what he had in store.

  “So… she’s already sent Owen into Matrus,” I remarked, curious about what Viggo was able to glean from the earlier conversation.

  Viggo nodded once, keeping his eyes on the path in front of us. “Yes. Which means Owen is several hours ahead of us. He might even be taking an alternate route from the river to get there—it’s a straight shot down. Or he might have potentially jumped the border between The Green and Matrus and hiked in.”

  I frowned—it was plausible, I supposed, but it would take time. We had a chance of bypassing him on the river. If Desmond had thought there was any likelihood that we would catch up, she would’ve kept that information private, which meant she had provided another way for him to get in.

  “I think he might already be there,” I said, dodging to one side to avoid an overhanging branch. “She wouldn’t have told us if she thought there was a chance to stop him.”

  He absorbed this information as we ran, the sound of our feet hitting the dirt intermingling with the sound of our breathing. “Possibly. You worked with them on an op before. What was the general set-up?”

  I filled him in on everything that had happened after the boat—being smuggled in, meeting Thomas, getting information and gear, and then execution.

  “I think we can safely assume that most of that is not going to happen,” Viggo said.

  “Why?” I asked curiously.

  “Because it’s a solo mission—that means… Look out!”

  Shouting an expletive, Viggo reached out and grabbed my arm at the same moment I started to turn. Then I was tumbling to the forest ground, the world shifting on its axis until up was down and down was up. Viggo uttered another curse behind me, and I lifted myself off the ground to my hands and knees, whirling around so I could see what was happening.

  A massive silver python was wrapped around his torso and legs, the heavy muscular coils already starting to constrict. He had thrown an arm around the snake’s neck and was squeezing hard, but with little effect. The snake thrashed back and forth, trying to dislodge Viggo from its neck, while he struggled to hold on.

  I shot to my feet, looking around for something—anything—that I could use as a weapon. Viggo was shouting something, but I couldn’t make it out—his voice was strained from the compression of his lungs. His face was turning a hue of scarlet that made my heart leap into my throat and his name escape my lips.

  Racing over to the closest tree, I leapt up and grabbed a branch with both hands. It sagged under my weight, but didn’t break. Grunting with effort, I shifted my weight, pulling myself up and then dropping hard. There was a sharp cracking sound, and then I fell to the ground, my legs not prepared to hold my weight. I clutched the bit of broken branch in my hands and scrambled toward where Viggo was still struggling with the snake.

  I could see his strength fading. Adrenaline coursing through my veins, I hefted the branch over my shoulder like a spear and raced toward the pair. The snake’s head was thrashing back and forth, but I was certain if I could first shove the broken end into one of its gleaming black eyes, I would be able to kill it.

  Suddenly, the spear was yanked from my hands and the next thing I knew, I was staring into the determined eyes of my brother. He lifted the branch over his shoulder, took a measured step forward and then
threw it, grunting as he did.

  The branch was not aerodynamic, but Tim’s reflexes and hand-eye coordination had been enhanced, and I winced as the branch hit with a wet thud, a good foot of it embedding itself into the snake’s skull. The snake shuddered, and then its head hit the ground with a heavy thud, its coils becoming slack.

  I raced over to where Viggo was still half entangled in the coils. Grabbing them, I quickly pulled him out. He was gasping, but the blood-red color of his face was beginning to dissipate.

  I wrapped my arms around him and held him tightly, shooting a grateful glance at my brother. He offered me a little smile in return. Pulling back a few inches, I looked deep into Viggo’s eyes. His labored breathing was still fogging up the clear plastic face of the mask, but I could see his eyes clearly.

  “Idiot,” I said softly, so only he would hear.

  He coughed, hard, and then grinned up at me, his green eyes twinkling. “Saved your life,” he breathed, his words punctuated by tiny coughs here and there.

  I shook my head at him, and then helped him up. Ms. Dale and Tim came to stand next to us.

  “Viggo… okay?” Tim asked.

  Viggo smiled at him and then began coughing again. I took a step closer, concerned, but he held up a hand, and I stopped, even though I didn’t want to. After a moment, he took a deep breath and nodded, straightening up. He then reached over and grabbed Tim by the shoulder, pulling him into a massive hug. My heart soared at the image of Viggo and my brother bonding. Viggo was gentle in his hug—he was conscious of Tim’s sensitivity.

  Even that was enough to bring tears of happiness to my eyes. It was strange, but even though we were on the run, with the threat of death looming over us, I felt optimistic about the future. We were going to evade the boys and escape. I clung to this hope with the same certainty that I needed oxygen to live.

  Viggo released a blushing Tim and turned to the rest of us. “We throwing a party?” Viggo said hoarsely.

  Ms. Dale eyed him wryly. “Not yet, but if you can get us out of here alive, Patrian, I’ll buy the first round.”

  “Well then… if I didn’t have a reason for living before, having the pleasure of seeing you buy me a drink is a damned good one,” he replied with a laugh. He took a few more experimental breaths in, and then nodded. “All right, people, that’s a good enough break—let’s run.”

  Tim beckoned to Samuel, and we wordlessly fell into line and began running again. Viggo set the pace—so at first it was a light jog, but after a while, it became faster. I wasn’t sure how long Viggo could keep it up, though—I had already begun to see the strain in his face, although he stoically tried to hide it.

  I brought up the rear of the run, with Tim behind Viggo and Ms. Dale in front of me. We ran in a straight line, but a few times Tim scampered off, ducking under some branches or diving through the brush. The first few times, I’d watched in confusion, but after the fourth time, I put on a burst of speed and raced up to him when he rejoined our little formation.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  Tim glanced at me and then looked ahead. He was definitely exerting himself more than the rest of us—sweat was dripping from him at a phenomenal pace. However, his breathing was less labored than mine, and he still showed signs of going strong.

  “Messing with… the trail. Trying to leave… fake ones. Distract the boys,” he responded.

  “That’s really smart. How’d you learn to do that?”

  He nodded his head toward Viggo’s back, and I smiled—of course Viggo had taught them survival. They lived in The Green, after all.

  I accelerated and moved up to Viggo. “Where do you think the attack is going to happen?” I asked.

  Viggo had recovered from the struggle with the snake, but I could tell we would need to take another break soon. Still, his discomfort didn’t keep him from answering my question.

  “Matrus. I doubt that Desmond has informants in the queen’s inner circle, but with royalty, it’s all about location, location, location.”

  I let out a small chuckle—hard to do when running—and then asked him, “So he knows where the queen is going to be?”

  “So do you—don’t you remember what celebration is coming up soon?”

  I frowned, and then started doing the math in my head. The Patrian calendar was different than the Matrian one, and I hadn’t really paid much attention to the dates when I was serving my time in the re-education program. It took me a minute to remember.

  “The Solstice Celebration!” I exclaimed.

  Viggo nodded. “Yup—the queen does her little ceremonial blessing of the waters at the Moon Temple, right?”

  I nodded. The tradition began when Matrus was founded. It was in celebration of the lunar New Year—a symbolic act of embracing femininity and the power that it bestowed in wisdom, endurance, and patience. The ceremony was held in a small temple just outside the palace that had been built in a cave which had housed the first settlers who’d fled Patrus and its laws.

  Suddenly, an image of the silver case with the egg sitting in Desmond’s office flashed in my mind’s eye and I gasped. Viggo shot me a curious glance and then slowed to a stop, taking the opportunity for a break.

  I turned back, my heartbeat doubling.

  “Vi… what is it?” he asked.

  I looked at Viggo and then back at the way we had come. “The egg. It’s still in the facility.”

  Viggo glanced back at the miles of forest between us and the building, and sighed. “It’s gone, Vi. We can’t go back for it.”

  I nodded, having come to that conclusion myself. “I know,” I said. “Sorry… it just feels weird not having it.”

  He nodded, his expression pensive. “Okay… We need to keep going. Time’s running out.”

  Letting the egg go in my mind, I turned and we continued moving.

  It was hard to gauge how long we had been traveling so far, but I knew we were running short on time—we must have passed the three-hour mark.

  I could feel the seconds ticking by, each one more tense than the last. I kept a wary eye out, looking for anything unusual in the underbrush.

  Which was how I noticed some rustling in the trees to the left of us that seemed to be keeping pace and then some. At first I thought we might have attracted the attention of some other predator, but through a break in the trees, I saw what clearly looked like legs and shoes. I felt a moment of alarm and had opened my mouth to warn everyone of it when it suddenly burst through the foliage just in front of Viggo and rushed right toward us.

  37

  Viggo

  The cramp in my side had been intensifying over the last few miles and it felt like my chest was about to come apart, but I sucked it up and pressed on. I had no choice but to keep running—if it killed me, it killed me. I would be dead soon if I stopped anyway.

  I had been keeping a wary eye on our surroundings, when a boy crashed through the brush, rushing toward us.

  I slid to a stop and turned to face him fully, my mind instantly working to figure out how to disable him without harming him. I didn’t recognize him—he was moving too fast for me to pick out any key features or characteristics—but it didn’t matter, so long as I could get him under control.

  I curled my hands up into fists and assumed a fighting stance, watching the boy as he barreled headlong toward us. I braced for impact, intent on using his momentum against him by rolling him over my back, when Tim darted between us, turning to face me.

  “Don’t!” he pleaded, his eyes wide with fear.

  I froze and watched as the boy behind Tim slid to a stop as well, panting hard. He leaned over and coughed, sucking in air. It was obvious he had been running for a long time in an attempt to catch up. As he straightened, I recognized him.

  “Oh. Hello, Jay,” I said and he offered a wave, still wheezing. I looked at Tim. “What’s going on?”

  Tim shifted nervously and looked at Violet. “Didn’t go to Ms. Dale first,” he said, addre
ssing his sister. “Went to Jay. Asked for help.”

  “So… Jay’s here to help us?” Violet asked, looking relieved.

  “I didn’t want to stay with her,” Jay said from behind Tim, looking both uncomfortable and disturbed. “When they brought you upstairs, I stayed below and grabbed some things that I thought you might need.” He shrugged off the large backpack he was wearing and held it out. The bag was over-packed, and I could see the seams straining.

  I accepted the bulging bag with a grateful smile. “I’m glad to see you here with us, Jay.” Jay flushed, a dark red spreading across his cheeks. I patted his back and handed the bag to Violet. “Any chance any of the other boys being with us?” I asked hopefully.

  Jay’s embarrassment turned into deep sadness, and my heart ached for him. It was clear from his reaction that they had all chosen Desmond, not me, and my heart constricted again in pain thinking about the boys and how they saw me now. It made me beyond angry that they were yet again being used for someone else’s aim.

  Jay had taken a step back from me, his eyes wide in alarm, and I realized that my feelings regarding the situation were currently on my face. Sighing, I squatted down, bringing myself lower than him to make him feel more secure. “I’m sorry, Jay—I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at Desmond for using the boys like this.”

  Jay nodded slowly, his eyes downcast. “My mom isn’t a good person,” he whispered, and I felt my chest tighten further. No child should have to feel that way about his mother.

  “Come here,” I said softly, holding an arm out to him. He stepped closer and I pulled him in for a hug. I rubbed his back as I felt him shake a little bit, tears falling from his eyes. “It’s going to be okay, Jay. I promise.” It was the only solace I could offer to the boy, but it was one I meant. I didn’t know how yet, but I was going to make it right for him. I was going to do more than that—I was going to protect him.

 

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