“Show me,” I whispered, clenching my fists.
Owen stared deep into my eyes for a few seconds, then conceded. “All right,” he murmured.
He turned and began leading me to the front door. Puzzled, I followed, ignoring the solemn gazes of Thomas and Quinn as we entered the hallway leading out of Thomas’ lair.
14
Violet
I could feel the tension squirming within me like a python. I followed Owen down the hall and through the door leading to the sewage system. We stepped down to the concrete platform, small puddles of water splashing as our boots passed through them. Instead of leaping into the murky water in front of us, Owen guided me left, heading into a different tunnel.
The concrete platform we were on narrowed, until it was approximately the width of our feet. Alongside us, a river of the same filthy water flowed into the darkness. Owen was using his handheld as a flashlight, the dim screen illuminating our path through the darkness. The tunnel shot off to the left, but then curved back to the right, leading to another junction, similar to the one we’d left behind.
Owen shimmied along the ledge as we neared, and then made a quick leap to the platform in the middle of the room. Hesitating, I made my way along the ledge to the point he had and then pushed myself from the wall.
I cleared the narrow gap easily, landing solidly on my feet next to him. Ahead of us was another door, similar to the door of Thomas’ lair.
“I don’t get it… were these rooms pre-existing?” I asked.
Owen paused his ascent up the stairs and shot me an incredulous look. “What, do you think that we built them?”
I shrugged, uncertain of how to respond, because, while I hadn’t given it a great amount of thought, my thoughts had been along those lines.
Owen shook his head. “No, sorry, Violet. We’re good, but not that good. These tunnels and rooms existed before us. It’s part of the original design of the sewer system.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Why would anyone build rooms in a sewer system?”
Owen gave his own little shrug. “Does it matter? They were abandoned long ago, and almost no one knows they’re down here. It was Thomas who discovered them—by accident. The only records of them exist in physical form, and Thomas made sure to destroy them before he disappeared himself.”
I frowned, but accepted the information. A lot of building, demolition, and rebuilding had happened in the early years after our predecessors had discovered the area. It wasn’t too far-fetched to believe that the purpose of the rooms in the tunnel had been lost over time.
Owen’s shoulders shifted lower as he turned and reached for the door. I wet my lips nervously, the moment of levity forgotten.
Solomon was somewhere within this room. My heartbeat increased slightly as my stomach contracted. Now that I was here at the threshold, I wasn’t as certain as I had been minutes before. It was going to be bad, that much was sure.
I steeled myself as Owen pushed open the door and followed him as he moved into the oppressive darkness of the hall.
Unlike Thomas’ place, this room was not well-lit. If it hadn’t been for Owen’s handheld producing light, I would have probably freaked out. I was not comfortable with dark and cramped places anymore. As it was, the shadows being cast by his handheld were giving me the creeps.
Luckily, we were through within seconds, and the lighting in the center chamber massively improved compared to the darkness of the hall. Just like in Thomas’ lair, there were doors on either side of the room. The left room was dark, but the right room was lit.
Owen paused in the center of the room, eyeing me warily. “For the last time, Violet… maybe you shouldn’t see this.”
I tilted my chin up at him. I needed to see it. He sighed and moved over to the door, leaning against the wall next to it. He crossed his arms, not meeting my gaze.
I squared my shoulders and marched over to the door.
“Whatever you do, don’t open it,” Owen said softly, as I peered through the window.
Inside, the room was bare, save for a lamp and the large, lone figure of Solomon crouched in the corner. His back was to me, and he was squatting, rocking back and forth.
I shot a glance at Owen, who remained tight-lipped, still not looking at me. I frowned, and pressed my face closer to the window.
“Solomon?” I called gently through the door.
Immediately, Solomon froze. Several moments passed—enough time for me to start to call his name again—before his head whipped around so violently, I thought his neck would break from the speed.
But the face looking back at me was that of a stranger. Solomon’s normally impassive face had morphed into one of unspeakable rage. His eyes rolled wildly in his skull while he gnashed his teeth together, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth. He had torn away the top part of his invisibility suit in the front, exposing his chest, which was covered with long crisscrossed bloody lines. It didn’t take me long to put together that the wounds were self-inflicted. His fingers were red with blood, and it looked like he had been trying to claw his way into his own flesh.
His rolling eyes settled on me, and he snarled, causing me to flinch back. “Solomon?” I gasped, my voice tiny from the lump that had formed in my throat.
He snarled again and launched himself at the door so suddenly, I barely had a chance to take a step back before he impacted. The door shuddered in the frame, but held.
I covered my mouth with my hand, my eyes forming tears at the horror of seeing a man normally so cool and collected transformed into a monster. Turning to Owen, I breathed, “How?”
Owen’s eyes filled with remorse. He opened his mouth to respond when the door frame shuddered again, forcing him to pause. “Outside,” he said, pushing himself off the wall.
I followed him, feeling both eager and reluctant to leave. Solomon gave a low throaty roar as we departed, a crescendo of anger mingling with sadness. It felt like a knife straight to my heart, and it was with great reluctance that I continued following Owen, closing the door to the hallway behind me.
Owen was waiting on the platform, kicking his foot through a small puddle. I pushed the second door closed behind me and then sat down heavily on the steps.
“How?” I repeated, and Owen sighed, placing his hands on his hips.
“You have to understand, Violet. The pills… we were warned that there would be side effects before they were given to us.”
I gaped at him, my confusion palpable. “I-I don’t understand. Pills? What pills? What side effects?”
Owen kicked at the floor again, his lips twisting into a grimace. “The pills—the ones that Mr. Jenks invented to temporarily enhance regular humans. In the facility, our scientists, they… they refined the process.”
It took a moment for his words to sink in. Once they finally did, I found myself standing, although I didn’t remember making the motion to do so. An indescribable fury had flooded my senses and hijacked my brain. I watched myself cross over the wet floor. I felt my hand curl into a fist.
And then suddenly Owen was staggering back, clutching his jaw where I had punched him. My fist throbbed, and I shook it out, glaring at him.
“How could you?” I hissed, flexing my hand. Tears had escaped from my eyes, falling in hot trails down my cheeks and throat.
Owen stared at me, his expression infused with regret and pain. It wasn’t enough—not by far.
“HOW COULD YOU?!” I bellowed, taking a step forward and raising a fist.
He flinched back, holding both his hands up. “I’m sorry!” he said, and I froze, my hands shaking. I clenched my teeth together, torn between hitting him again and backing off. He slowly lowered his hands, and I could see tears forming in his eyes too.
Frustrated by his acquiescence, I lowered my fist and stalked backward. I began to pace, trying to calm the anger pulsing in my heart. I took a quick breath in, followed by a long slow breath out. Then another. And then another.
It took
several minutes for me to find a certain level of calmness. During that time, I tried moving past my initial question to find a more productive line of inquiry that would help me understand why they had done this.
Once I was ready, I turned back to Owen, who was standing where I had left him, his arms wrapped around himself. I had seen many faces of Owen since I had met him, but this was the first time I had seen him ashamed.
“Okay. Tell me what happened,” I said, not bothering to keep the hard edge out of my voice.
“Solomon must have thought he had no choice. He had almost a kilometer to run while carrying you and your gear. So… he took the pill.”
“What did it enhance?” I asked.
“His strength.”
I nodded slowly, furrowing my brows. “That would explain his anger.”
It was Owen’s turn to nod. “Yeah. Desmond gave them to us before the mission. I swear, Violet, I didn’t know she was going to hand them out. Hell, I didn’t even know she had been experimenting with the pill. She warned us that the side effects for us would be more pronounced than they were for the boys. They were given incremental doses over time—Solomon got a massive dose all at once.” I shot him another hard, flat look, and he took a slow step back, away from me. “She told us not to take them unless it was a clear emergency.”
I shook my head, as if trying to clear it from a punch. “Those pills should have never been handed out in the first place!” I said, my nostrils flaring. “Desmond said she would destroy them. She clearly lied.”
Owen’s face fell. “No. It’s not like that, Violet. Desmond… she’s going to be devastated by this. She loves Solomon—we all do. Nobody wanted this to happen. But if she didn’t destroy them, then she had her reasons.”
I fell quiet, swallowing hard. “It’s my fault,” I said after a beat. Owen moved forward, his face reflecting his refusal of my statement. I held up a hand. “It’s Desmond’s fault too, for handing them out, but I’m not devoid of blame. I… I was certain you had left the laser behind.”
“Of course it wasn’t your fault, Violet. We lost communication, and… well… you were doing what you thought you had to. I know that if I, or Solomon, or anyone else were in your shoes, we would have done the same. How could we give up on a cure for the person we love? The answer is: We can’t. Neither could you.”
I moved back to the stairs and sat down. “What are we going to tell Meera?” I asked quietly, thinking of Solomon’s mother.
Owen came to sit next to me. “She knew the risks of the mission. And with a little luck… who knows? Maybe the effects are just temporary. Hopefully, he won’t have to be like this for long.”
I heaved a sigh, my eyes finally drying up. “We can’t take him out of the city, can we?”
Owen shook his head, his expression regretful. “No. We can’t. But Thomas has promised that he will look after him while we’re gone. And we’ll hopefully be able to spare one of the scientists to come and examine him. Solomon will be all right until then, okay? You just have to give it some time and patience.”
I laughed bitterly. “Time and patience? I’m not exactly the patient type.”
Owen’s hand settled on my knee and I looked up at him. The two of us were sitting with our faces inches apart. It should have made the situation feel more intimate in some way. And yet it didn’t, and Owen didn’t make any inappropriate move one way or the other.
“You were patient for two weeks,” he said, “waiting for this mission.”
I laughed again, the sound brittle in my ears. “You have no idea,” I replied, rubbing my temples. “You have no idea—I would’ve done anything, been nice to anyone, to get what I needed for Viggo. And while I don’t think I would have abandoned you to die… I never trusted you enough to get the job done. I’m the reason Solomon felt he needed to take the steps he did. If I had just trusted you...”
My words hung in the air for several moments before Owen replied with a sigh, “I-I can understand, although I can’t say I like it. But… you’re doing the best you can, considering the circumstances. And, despite what happened to Solomon and Amber, we got what we came here to get. You have hope now, a very real hope, that you can touch. And maybe with what happened here… well, as dark as this is to say, maybe now you can learn to trust us.”
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to my forehead, and I found myself leaning a shoulder against his. Owen wrapped his arms around me and hugged me. It felt weird, but kind of nice.
I wasn’t sure how Owen had weighed into Desmond’s decision to keep researching the pills, but I was still furious with her, and I planned to explain to her exactly how she messed up. Maybe it was my fault for making Solomon feel like he had to take that pill, but Desmond was the one who’d handed it to him.
Owen pulled back and smiled at me. “Don’t tell your boyfriend about this when he wakes up,” he said, and I managed a chuckle.
“Oh, I’m telling him,” I said with a smile of my own. “He’s going to eat you alive.”
Owen rolled his eyes and stood up. “For the record, Violet, I am totally not into you.”
I accepted the hand he offered, pulling myself to my feet. “Owen, you aren’t even a blip on my radar,” I replied, and he laughed, his laughter rich and genuine, dispelling the tension that had built, if only for a moment.
He looked at his watch and his shoulders dipped. Our moment of calm was shattered once again by the press of time. Wordlessly, we headed back to Thomas’ lair, leaving Solomon alone in his prison.
15
Violet
Amber groaned as we lifted her makeshift gurney up higher, jostling her.
“Sorry,” I said for the umpteenth time, my arms straining to help lift her high above the putrid water flowing past us.
We had been moving her through the tunnels for ages, and the smell had gotten worse. With each minute we kept her down here, the chances of her developing a serious infection grew. We had done everything we could to stem the bleeding in her side, but she had gone incoherent with blood loss, and so pale that the normal rose tint of her lips had faded completely.
Owen and I pushed forward together, carefully placing our feet so that we didn’t slip. Quinn grunted as he slid back a few feet on the platform, balancing the other end alone. Once she was up, I shifted over and grabbed Owen’s side. He relinquished it as I did, and my arms strained, shaking under Amber’s full weight.
Owen didn’t waste any time—he slipped out of the water and quickly relieved me of the pressure, he and Quinn moving her further onto the platform and high above the water. I shook out my aching arms and then pushed myself out of the gunk.
Sweat was pouring off all of us, despite the cool air in here, and we were all breathing heavily.
“Do we need a break?” Owen asked.
Quinn and I looked at each other and shook our heads. We hadn’t taken a break since we started, but we weren’t going to stop until we got her aboveground and onto Alejandro’s boat.
“How many more junctions?” I asked.
Owen gave me a nod, and I moved over to him, holding Amber so he could check the handheld. After a long moment, he groaned. “Three,” he muttered.
I took another long slow breath and nodded. “Three, huh? Okay. We got this.”
Quinn smiled at me and I shot him a smile in return. Owen quickly took back Amber’s weight, and I moved over to Quinn’s side to give him a break. Looking back at Owen, I gave a small jerk of my head toward the tunnel to our left.
Straining, we lifted her up and continued moving. It took us forty-five minutes to get to the junction, but we made it. We had to set her down after we got to the third and final platform and once we did, Owen handed me the pack off his back. Inside was the laser for Viggo, and Amber’s and my costumes—the male ones.
“Help me get this on her,” he said, pulling out the tweed coat and slacks for Amber.
“No padding?” I asked.
“No time...” He checked his
watch and nodded, as if coming to a decision. “We’re going to play this off like she’s drunk and we’re taking her home to her wife. Hopefully, no one will stop us, but we have to get her on her feet.”
While he talked, he rummaged through my bag and pulled out a familiar-looking patch.
“That’s adrenaline,” I said, and he nodded.
“Just one patch—it’ll get her on her feet and moving for long enough to get to the boat. After that, we’ll let her lie down. It’ll take us a day to get back into The Green, and another day to move her across the jungle, but I contacted Desmond—she’s going to send us some help so we don’t have to do it alone.”
I paused while my mind raced through every conceivable problem we might face. “What about the red flies?”
“The team will be waiting for us with a clean suit to put her in. As long as we neutralize the odor of the blood, we’ll make it.”
“Do you have any more of the blood patches? She needs more,” I said as I began slipping her shirt off.
Amber moaned in protest, her eyelids fluttering. I carefully peeled off the patches on her neck and slapped the one that Owen handed me over the spot I had just removed the old one from before buttoning up her shirt.
Owen and Quinn were already down by her feet, helping each other slip the woolen pants over her legs. As soon as I was finished with the buttons, I moved down to help them pull her pants up past her knees and over her hips, then button the front. Owen helped pull her up into a sitting position, and Quinn and I grabbed her arms and pulled them through the sleeves of the jacket.
I gathered up the riot of curls at the top of her head, smoothing them down and placing the wig on her head. I pulled a few pins out of the bag and hastily fastened the short brown wig to her head before placing the cap on top. Quinn and Owen, meanwhile, had been applying the special glue to her face before affixing the beard.
The Gender Lie (The Gender Game #3) Page 9