Which was very lucky for me. My eyes took in my overall haul in the glow of the flashlight. I had found a small bottle of kerosene, six grenades, some string, and, best of all, a rifle that had slipped behind one of the shelves and was lying on its side on the floor, as well as a bulletproof vest that I’d dragged out of an unmarked box on one of the back shelves. I also had a roll of duct tape from Owen’s bag, his pistol, mine, and four clips of ammunition. I only had one magazine for the rifle, but reloading would have been too awkward for me to handle anyway. Still, I did have an idea for its application.
I just had to get up to the next floor somehow. Now that I had the beginnings of a plan gestating in my mind, the darkness around me didn’t bother me as much—it was just another obstacle to be tackled like all the rest. I turned to the next problem. I couldn’t use the once hidden door—it was buried now, behind the rubble Tim had been stuck under, but maybe I could find a ventilation duct. I wasn’t keen on the idea, not after having been stuck navigating one in the facility in The Green, but it was the only idea I had.
It took me another fifteen minutes to realize that none of the vents I could find in the room were big enough to fit me, let alone me and all my gear. Clenching my teeth in annoyance, I swung back around, trying to see if I had missed any. I paused in the wide-open area where the cars had been kept, my light cutting over something on the wall almost quickly enough for my brain to dismiss it. Almost.
I swung the flashlight back around and frowned when I noticed that one small sliver of paint seemed brighter than the rest. I studied it closely. There was a nearly imperceptible difference between the paint here and the rest of the wall. It sat a millimeter or two back, just a small gap, barely noticeable.
Tucking the flashlight under my arm, I touched the area, and felt it give slightly under my left hand. Biting my lip, I placed my hand flat and dragged it to the left. The flat panel slid open, revealing a hollow, square chute just behind it, carved out of the bedrock. Hanging inside was a metal cage, just big enough to sit in, with a series of pulleys and ropes that seemed to attach to the top. These went up into the darkness beyond the roof of the cage.
It was an elevator. A ridiculously small one, but I didn’t care what size it was if it led to one of the other levels of the house. This was my ticket up. I moved back to the counter and threw all my gear into my backpack—everything I could reliably carry, keeping the rifle in my hands. I was just going to have to set it down to fit into this strangely tiny box.
I moved back to the miniature elevator, opening the cage door and thrusting the rifle into the back, pressed against the mesh. Then I turned around and sat backward into the metal cage, ducking my head under the bit of wall overhanging the entry. I scooted back until I felt my shoulders touch the mesh, and then pulled my legs in, adjusting myself to the small space. It wasn’t completely uncomfortable, but I wouldn’t want to be stuck in it for any length of time.
Swinging my flashlight around the chamber, I looked for a switch that would make the thing go. I hoped it was simple and easy to figure out… and that the electricity here was still working, for that matter. For a moment, I was afraid that after all this I’d be stymied by complicated machinery, and then I saw a little panel awkwardly wired into the heavy mesh next to the cage door. There were only two buttons. I pushed the top one.
The small elevator made no noise, not a chime of the kind I’d expected based on the few elevators I’d seen in my life. But a little light above the button pulsed a soft green, and then, more silently than I could have hoped, it began to ascend. The cage shifted and swayed gently, and I swallowed, trying to still my nerves, hoping this plan would not get me killed. My brother—and Owen, too, though he might not deserve my help—were counting on me. I had too much at stake here to die.
4
Viggo
A bright red hue lit up the horizon, glowing like a beacon, inviting anyone nearby to come check it out. But in the deserted countryside, we seemed to be the only ones around. It was just as well. As we turned down the narrow dirt road that led us toward it, I could see hazy wisps of smoke in the air, whirling around us as we drove past. The corn in Mr. Kaplan’s field was turning brown in death, the strong stalks sagging, almost weeping, for the loss of their caretaker.
The vehicle bounced over the bumps in the road, the shocks squeaking under the weight. The glow grew brighter as we approached the trees on each side of the road, their branches obscuring the view of the house, creating a little archway. Thomas sped through it, and I blinked as the smoldering remains of the farmhouse came into view.
Part of the second floor had collapsed, and everything was a charred black. The flames were mostly gone, but embers still burned brightly on the ground. I could see Lynne near the house, grabbing a bucket and splashing liquid on the ground just outside the perimeter. I had instructed her and Morgan to make sure the fire we’d started in order to call in the ambulance we’d hijacked didn’t rage out of control, and thanks to their efforts, it seemed that it hadn’t.
Thomas pulled the car up to where the other vehicles were parked and shut off the engine. Within moments, we were all stepping out, each of us with a clear destination in mind. Except for Cruz, of course—he stood near the back of the ambulance, his eyes studying the fire. I moved closer to it, keeping an eye on him as I headed toward Lynne.
“How’d it go?” she asked as she splashed more water on the dirt. She wiped the sweat off her brow with her forearm, exchanging her bucket for a full one from the supply they’d brought from the well and taking a big step over, splashing the next patch of earth.
“We got the broadcast out,” I replied grimly, and she turned toward me fully, giving me a meaningful look.
“Their response?”
I met her gaze flatly, shaking my head at the brunette before me. “Kill the messengers. And anybody… anybody who heard it, too.”
She frowned. “It’s going to get bad.”
“It always does.”
“Pardon me?”
The voice behind me was startling, but I tried not to spin around quickly—I didn’t particularly want to show my surprise to this person. I turned and regarded Cruz. Lynne put a hand on her hip and blew a lock of hair away from her eyes. “Who’s this?”
Cruz’s eyes lit on Lynne, his gaze sliding up and down her curves. He smiled, his white teeth flashing red in the light of the embers, and he managed a small bow. “Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am Anello Cruz.”
Lynne’s face stayed carefully blank, and I bit back a smile as Cruz blinked, waiting for a reaction. His dark brown eyes flicked to me, and then back to Lynne. He straightened, shrugging. “Surely it sounds just a small bit familiar?” he repeated, and Lynne shook her head—but this time, a little smile turned the corners of her mouth up.
I wasn’t sure where that was coming from. I shook my head at him, deriving a small amount of pleasure from disillusioning the man. “She’s from Matrus,” I informed him, and Cruz’s eyebrows leaped into his hairline.
“Ahhhh, a Matrian! Are they all as beautiful as you over there, or are you just extraordinarily blessed?”
I blinked, feeling like I had just been sucker punched. Had Cruz—a man who had not so long ago been accusing me of treason while we’d had him tied up with zip ties—actually interrupted our conversation so he could flirt? My mind sputtered and stalled in the face of that frankly illogical action.
Lynne’s reaction, however, baffled me further. Her hand was still on her hip, but she was eyeing Cruz up and down with wary interest. “Are you serious right now?”
Cruz raised his hands, an eager smile on his lips. “As the night is long in winter.”
At that, she chuckled, her smile broadening. “What a gentleman,” she said finally, though she seemed more amused than seduced. “Are you a refugee as well? Will you be joining us?”
“Your cause is my cause now, madam,” Cruz replied, not missing a beat.
Lynne gave another chu
ckle at his use of the word ‘madam,’ and I had just about had enough. “Lynne, would you excuse us for a minute?” I said, managing not to drawl, and took Cruz by the shoulder, guiding him far enough away that our conversation wouldn’t be clearly overheard.
“What is it, Croft? Do you have a problem?” he asked, his dark eyes serious. I peered into them, trying to figure out the motivations hiding there, then looked for a way to phrase my question.
I settled on, “Are you just putting on a show for her? Or are you serious?”
“About the beauty of the lady over there?”
“About joining our cause,” I said, the words coming out perhaps more dry than I’d been trying for. I didn’t have a problem with new recruits, but this one seemed a little suspicious to me. His help had been useful in our escape, but how could I know that he wasn’t, once again, siding with whoever wouldn’t get him killed? Frankly, the man’s manner grated on me, but I wasn’t going to deny another fighter we desperately needed just because of that. Cruz was a former Power Fight League fighter, and in many ways, he seemed a typical Patrian male—so I felt my concern was justified. If he couldn’t get behind the females who were also leading our little cadre, then things were not going to go well.
Cruz stared back at me. From what I remembered of the ring, he’d never backed down from a challenge. “I am very serious,” he said. “I want to be a part of it. I mean, that’s why you kidnapped me, hijacked the feed, and broadcasted your little message, eh? To get people to help you fight the Matrian invaders? Well, I listened. I want them all to go back to where they came from and stop destroying my country. I’m already here, and I want to help.”
“And me zip tying your hands to a pipe didn’t leave you with any hard feelings at all?” I said, letting my skepticism leak into my voice.
Cruz raised his eyebrows. “My personal feelings about that incident put aside, I can forgive a few mistakes here and there, Croft.”
I stiffened automatically. Even though the message was conciliatory, the remark grated on my pride, and Cruz knew it. But I was controlling my alpha male urges right now.
“If you were to join us,” I tested, “what help could you offer us?”
Cruz smiled. “Well, for one thing,” he said with complete confidence, “I can tell you that the way you are going about controlling this fire is completely mad.”
Now that was interesting. “How do you know that?”
“I see you were not paying attention to my tour earlier today.”
“I had bigger things on my mind.”
That shut him up for a moment, but his mouth did not remain closed for long. “I helped put out the fires in Patrus when they started. When everything started. I learned much from it.”
I would listen to his idea, even if I found the man himself irritating. “Do you have a suggestion?”
“First, we need to dig a trench around the house. About… as wide as my arm, and as deep as from my finger tips to my elbow.”
“That’s a lot of work,” I said dubiously. “We might have some time, but not that much.”
“If you want to keep this under control until it goes out, it’s the only way. But hey, have no fear, my friend! I saw a big digger over there by the farm. I’ll just start it up—shouldn’t take long at all.”
“You know how to drive a digger?” I asked. The question went straight to his back, as he was already jogging toward the barn. He raised his hand, flashing me a thumbs-up sign, and I rolled my eyes. I wanted to see this idea at work—I wouldn’t deny that it could be useful—but if Cruz stayed, this discipline thing was going to have to be addressed. I wandered back over to Lynne, deep in thought.
“I’m sorry about that one,” I said to her.
She turned to me, empty bucket in hand, and smiled. “It’s okay. I thought he was kind of sweet. It’s hard to explain why… Maybe because he’s just confident or something, but he’s got a certain... charm.”
“I thought he was kind of a jerk, myself.”
Lynne laughed, unaffected by my grumpiness. “A lot of people are jerks when they’re threatened. And I’m sure you have no idea why any guy would be threatened by you, Viggo.”
I shrugged and crossed my arms, choosing not to rise to that bait. “He’s going to have to work with me a lot if he joins up. So he’ll have to get over it.”
“Well, he seemed sincere in wanting to help,” Lynne said thoughtfully. “Maybe we just need to give him a chance.”
I thought about this. “You’re probably right,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be cautious. He was working with the Matrians not too long ago. He gained their trust enough that they let him walk around the station unattended. And that worked out very poorly for them. I can’t just trust him blindly. Too much riding on it.”
The woman nodded. “That’s true.”
For now, if he got the digger working and helped control the fire, I would keep the guy around. But he was going to have to prove himself. Not just to me, but to all of us.
“Thanks for your input, Lynne,” I said. “I can’t spend too much time on this—gotta catch up with Ms. Dale. Can you just watch him for me for now?”
“I got you, Viggo,” she replied, giving me a warm smile. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“Thanks,” I said sincerely.
She gave me a mock salute and then turned to the rest of the men, who had been keeping the wet line going behind her, already telling them to take a break—they had another plan to implement. I turned and headed back to where Ms. Dale was standing in front of the bound emergency crew, the light of the video causing their faces to glow. It was nearing the end of the message, from what I could tell. Sure enough, she reached down and clicked it off.
“I’m sure this is a shock to you, and I understand that. Give it a minute to percolate. And while you do, I want you to consider this: in a few minutes, I’m going to let you go. You’re free to take your vehicle and go wherever you want. You can also feel free to alert whoever you want. We won’t be here when you get back. However, if you believe in what you just saw in that video, then you’ll know we’re not your enemies. We’re here to help. You have the choice to stay with us, if you want, but we won’t force you.”
I stopped, content to let Ms. Dale continue with this crucial job; she had this under control. I moved away as she continued to speak, heading for where Amber, Thomas, and Jeff were standing near the front of the ambulance. “Any word from Tiffany?” I asked, referring to our spy still in the city.
Jeff shook his head, his mustache drooping sadly. “No. We keep trying to reach her, but she isn’t picking up. Do you think…?”
I met his eyes, noting the shimmering fear lurking in the shadowed recesses of his gaze. “We don’t know anything yet, and before we left, the place was turning into a madhouse. She might be on the run, or trying to hide—we just don’t know. Make sure whoever’s on guard duty knows to keep the handheld on them at all times, and get one of us if she calls.”
Amber nodded. “I’ll handle that.”
“Excellent. Now, do you mind if I use that thing to call Violet? I want to let her know we’re all right.”
Thomas extended the handheld he had been holding. “I didn’t do it yet. It occurred to me that if I did I would be denying you an emotional outlet.”
I smiled, resisting the urge to pat him on the shoulder. I wasn’t entirely sure how he’d react to that. “Thanks.”
Tapping the screen, I selected the handheld designation that connected to the one they kept at our base and waited for the call to connect. Amber shifted, catching my attention. She had a bemused expression on her face, her finger tapping the corner of her eye. I gave her a confused look, and her smile grew, her finger still tapping… I reached up and touched my eye, thinking something was stuck there, and my fingers were brought to a halt by the spectacles I was still wearing. I snatched them off just as the handheld connected. I shoved the glasses into a pocket and looked down, sur
prised to see Dr. Tierney’s heart-shaped face filling the screen.
“Dr. Tierney? Where’s Violet?”
Dr. Tierney frowned, a crease forming in the middle of her forehead. “She left. I thought you knew.”
I froze, trying to process what she was saying. “What do you mean, she left?”
“Owen came for her. Said Thomas sent him information on where Tim could be. That he was going to go looking and Violet could join. I think they went out around five, five thirty. Was that not… Viggo?”
I wasn’t looking at the screen anymore, which was probably why Dr. Tierney was calling my name. I didn’t care. Thomas shifted under my gaze, his posture screaming his discomfort to me. “You sent it to Owen?”
“I thought it would be best,” he replied defensively. “That he was the best choice, all things considered.”
“Owen’s brother just died, Thomas. He isn’t exactly thinking straight.”
“But he wouldn’t do anything crazy. He probably just took her to look.”
“Yes—in the countryside, where sightings of other people become slimmer every day, and… more importantly, we have soldiers who are going to be hunting for us very, very soon, if they haven’t started already.”
“I see.” Thomas frowned pensively, his eyes shifting back and forth as if deep in thought. After a moment, he squared his shoulders. “I may have miscalculated, although to be fair, I asked Owen to check it out and hold off on telling Violet, as you asked me to.”
I blinked, absorbing this information. “Then why would he take her?”
Thomas shrugged, looking completely baffled. “I have no idea.”
The wrongness of everything about this was causing my gut to churn. “I’ve got to find them,” I said.
Looking down at Dr. Tierney, who was still trying to get my attention on the handheld, I bade her a quick goodbye and shut the device down. “Send me the coordinates to those sightings and keep things going here,” I said to the assembled group, then turned toward the cars. “Try to get out in an hour or less—any longer and we’re pushing it. I’ve got a radio in my bag. I’ll be on channel three.”
The Gender Plan Page 3