The Gender Plan

by Bella Forrest

  But the gunfire from the building was increasing, a hail of bullets hitting the pavement on either side of him, and I continued shouting at Violet’s brother to stop. Tim ignored me, and, in one fluid motion, stood up and began racing toward the final barrel. He seemed to weave himself through the air, his body flowing sinuously around bullets, pulling himself out of the way of the oncoming fire with incredible grace. He had flipped over the barrel and dropped to a knee behind it, preparing his last cover, when something caught it and flipped it toward him.

  Almost without ceasing his motion, the young man flipped backward in a controlled flail as a red-hot spray of embers and flames crashed out from the mouth of the barrel, spreading in a flurry across the street. The barrel right in front of me went next, spinning wildly across the intersection toward the one closest to Alejandro, the contents getting dumped everywhere. Clanging and hissing added to the unending barrage of rifle shots echoing across the intersection.

  Still upright after all of that, Tim darted right as the other two barrels fell to a similar fate, vaulting over the hood of a burnt-out car and diving for one a few feet away, tucking up under its trunk. Bullets pinged all around him, but his cover held, for the time being.

  I realized I’d been holding my breath. Staring at the fire pit that now made up the intersection, and Tim’s position just beyond, I felt a sinking sensation in my stomach. The fear, hope, and startled awe I’d felt as Violet’s brother had braved the intersection were subsiding into a much more practical, uglier fear. With all these obstacles, I just wasn’t sure how I was going to get him out, or us through.

  25

  Violet

  “Stay on this road, Amber,” I said, studying the screen. “You’re in the clear for about five hundred feet.”

  “Copy that,” Amber said, and I watched as she and her small team fanned out in the street, moving from vehicle to vehicle. Now that Amber’s team was making its way through the city to meet up with Logan’s people, I was splitting time between Viggo and Amber. It was becoming a little bit of a headache, especially with Viggo nearing Porteque territory. Every part of me just wanted to be by him, being his mechanical eyes, keeping him safe… but right now, according to Thomas, Amber’s team needed me more.

  I manipulated my fingers, and the drone slowly moved forward. I tilted it back and forth, so that the belly swung up toward the buildings on either side of the road, and switched my thermal scan back on, rechecking each structure for any sign of movement.

  Owen stood behind me, staring at the screen from over my shoulder. It would’ve been unnerving, but truth be told, I could use the extra eyes at this point—almost three hours of staring at the screen had left mine feeling dry and a little bleary.

  The command line beeped, indicating someone was transmitting on the line, and I used my thumb to quickly change to the main channel, disappointment surging in my stomach when I heard Thomas’ voice instead of Viggo’s. It was silly, I knew, but I liked hearing him on the line. It was the only connection I had to him at the moment, now that my drone wasn’t watching over him.

  A variety of voices checked in on the command line, and I added mine to the chorus; when it seemed we all were there, Ms. Dale’s voice announced, “Everyone switch to beta six. This channel has been compromised.”

  Beta six was the code name for the next channel in the frequency list we had developed before sending everyone out. Even though we didn’t have enough comms for everyone, we still had more than enough to worry about our enemies getting their hands on one of them. So we had developed a protocol, at Ms. Dale’s insistence, that when we lost—or lost contact with—a team member with a communicator, we would switch to the next frequency in our list, one we’d all memorized to make sure that no physical copy fell into the hands of the enemies.

  When we had all found our way to the new channel, Ms. Dale continued. “Logan’s advance team met with fire from a heavily armed group twelve blocks away from the objective. The hostile group retreated, but in the direction we need to go.”

  “You need a new route?” asked Henrik, and I glanced over to see him sliding a big map of the city in front of him, standing up, and pulling out a red pencil.

  “We weren’t expecting to have to come topside,” Ms. Dale said on the line, irritation sharpening her voice. “So yes, please, we need a new route. Again.”

  I understood her frustration. It had been building over the last half hour as every move her team made seemed to be two steps forward, one step back. And since she and her team had started out farther away than Amber and Viggo’s teams, they had even less time to deal with delays.

  “I’ve been trying to tell her that we need to just cut through the bigger buildings,” came a deep, masculine voice, similar enough to Viggo’s to make me start to smile, then shake the expression off when I realized it was just Logan Vox. I continued pushing the drone forward, scanning, then flying again, idly listening to the chatter.

  “It’s too risky,” Henrik told Logan as he circled something on the map. “Too many scared and desperate people we can’t control. We would risk hurting them in order to keep them from hurting us. I’d like to keep the loss of civilian life to a minimum. We certainly won’t be earning any favors by showing up in their hiding places armed to the teeth and looking for a fight. So I’m going to have to side with Ms. Dale.”

  There was a long pause. “Are you two dating or something?” Logan asked. His tone was flippant, like he was making an off-color comment out of spite, but also inadvertently stumbling into the truth. Still, it made me blink in surprise, wondering just how much longer Logan Vox had in this world. It depended on where he was standing in relation to Ms. Dale, I supposed, but then again, a bullet never traveled for too long before hitting something.

  I could just picture Ms. Dale standing next to Logan, giving him that same look of unruffled disapproval that had so famously, and so continuously, painted her face during my martial arts classes with her. It was a chilling look, and I didn’t envy Logan for being on the receiving end of it, even if he had brought it on himself.

  “I found a new route,” announced Henrik, ignoring Logan’s comment entirely, though I saw the side of his mouth twitch up across the command table. “You’ll need to check cameras…” He trailed off, flipping through some papers and scanning the rows of carefully handwritten print. It was the only hard copy we had of the streets and their corresponding camera numbers, and even that was mostly because Thomas hadn’t been able to transfer everything to the handhelds—there wasn’t enough space on the data chip. “178-21-D through H to confirm.”

  “One second,” Ms. Dale replied. I busied myself by doubling back to Amber’s group and rescanning the building faces, in case someone had snuck back in after my last pass. It was so frustrating to be limited like this by the equipment’s size and range. Even going two hundred feet ahead of them made me feel clammy with nervousness. I didn’t want anyone to get the jump on Amber or her team if I could avoid it.

  Owen shifted behind me, his arm reaching around to point at the screen. “There’s someone in that room,” he said, tapping on one of the multiple windows in the screen.

  I bit back the urge to tell him to back off. He was bored, and guarding me wasn’t exactly the most glamorous job. I knew how he felt—even sitting here and being productive, I still felt pretty useless. “Thanks,” I said as I manipulated the drone again. “There’s a lot of small movements inside, but if you can’t make out a person, that’s generally because they’re hiding in their home. Or at least, that’s what I’ve seen so far.”

  “Ah.” There was a long moment of silence, then, “Did you get Desmond all set up?”

  I frowned and turned so that I could properly face him instead of trying to comment over my shoulder. “Owen, I know you don’t like it, but the place is secure and—”

  “It doesn’t matter how secure you made it. You cannot expect to keep her in it. I still can’t believe that we’re even keeping her aliv
e.”

  “It was a group decision, and her execution hasn’t been lifted, only postponed,” I replied automatically, and then froze, realizing how insensitive I was being. Owen had been a pretty big part of the group of us in command, but after what had happened, he was still being excluded from those meetings. Not that he complained, but when it came to Desmond, and Owen’s attitude toward how to handle her… Well, Ian’s loss was still coloring his emotional state. But I knew it still hurt him that we couldn’t trust him yet.

  That’s his own fault, the dark, angry side of myself argued. He created this mess, and now he’s got to lie in it. I pushed that part down, deep inside, and mentally closed the lid as hard as I could. I did not want to be angry at Owen. I wanted things to go back to the way they had been. If that meant biting back some callous remarks, I could do it. Soon.

  “Mags, this is Drew. Do you copy?”

  I came back to the discussion as the man’s gravelly voice filled the line. Henrik leaned forward in his seat, and I flashed him a nervous look. With all these new elements joining us, the whole operation was beginning to have a ‘too many cooks’ feeling. Still, we needed him, so all we could do was hope he would be a team player. Switching channels, I quickly informed Mags that she was being summoned, and then changed back.

  A few seconds later, she was there. “Hey, Drew, can’t talk right now. Listen to these guys.”

  Silence filled the line. “What’s going on?” asked Drew.

  “Drew, this is Henrik. I’m glad you received your communications device all right. We were beginning to worry.”

  “The runners I sent with Mags got held up and had to lay low for a few minutes to avoid one of the other gangs. But they got here. What’s going on with Mags?”

  The line beeped, and I switched back over to Amber’s channel while Henrik began to explain to Drew about Viggo and Mags having to take on a building filled with Porteque guys. Hopefully he wouldn’t feel compelled to go after them and jeopardize the rest of the mission. The situation had become very messy very quickly, and I was frustrated, itching to break free of this tiny basement room and get into the city. Find Viggo, help him out, and then complete the mission… all in time for breakfast.

  Things never worked that way, however. Not even when I had gone out on reckless and wild solo missions.

  “Violet?”

  I shook my head, trying to clear my fanciful thoughts. “Sorry, Amber. Repeat last transmission?”

  “You haven’t told us if the next part of our route is clear.”

  She delivered the line without any accusation, but I felt a kick of guilt in my stomach anyway. I took a deep breath, trying to untangle my thoughts, but couldn’t seem to break free of them. It took me several seconds to realize I needed a break. Now. Before a distraction on my part meant that something vital on Amber’s part got overlooked.

  “Amber, hold on. I’m having Owen take over for a minute.”

  There was a long pause, and I felt a moment of regret for dropping Owen on Amber. She didn’t seem even remotely ready to forgive him, and had even railed at me for being too nice to him after everything was said and done. I understood where she was coming from—I just didn’t agree, so I hoped she’d be able to put her differences aside to work with Owen. “Roger,” she acknowledged after a second, and I was relieved to hear professionalism in her voice.

  I switched the drone over into hover mode and then turned in my seat, my mouth open to formally ask Owen to take over for me for a short period. The words died on my lips when I saw him scowling, his posture rigid, and I realized he was still thinking about Desmond and how close she was to him right now.

  “Owen,” I said, and he started and turned, giving me a surprised look. “Stop thinking about her.”

  “I can’t,” he said. “She’s dangerous, and after what happened with Cody—”

  “Cody’s actually been doing a little better since that whole incident,” I told him irritably. It was true. Since meeting with Desmond, Cody had been showing little bursts of improvement here and there. Nothing major, mainly just talking a little more and being a little less sullen with people. I still wasn’t sure what had been discussed between them, and I still harbored a few doubts, but I hoped that somehow, in talking to Desmond while out of the influence of the Benuxupane, Cody had gotten a peek at the person inside, and it had made him change his mind.

  “See, that’s another thing. Is it really wise keeping Cody here under so light a guard, now that he knows about Desmond?”

  I didn’t disagree with him, but felt very much like I wanted to. That tightness was back—the walls of the room were beginning to feel like they were drawing in on me. I really needed to step away. “Owen, this isn’t the time or the place for this discussion. Can you just please sit here and scan the next portion of the road for Amber? I need a minute.”

  His blue eyes immediately filled with concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, and I nodded as I stood up from the chair, the stiff muscles in my lower back protesting after being seated for so long.

  “Fine. Just need fresh air. You remember how to do this?”

  “Please. I’m so good you’d never know I spent the last two days learning.” I smiled nervously at him, accepting the joke for the olive branch that it was, and he quietly slipped into his seat, put on the headset I had been wearing, and then slipped his fingers into the hollow tubes that were the flight controls.

  Once I was certain Owen did understand the controls and had picked up where I’d left off, I made my way up the stairs, down the hall, and right out the front door. The air outside was crisp and chilly, and I sucked in a deep breath, letting the subtle smells of winter wash over me. The temperature had been steadily dropping the last few days, which had not made tent living at our other location fun, even with Viggo’s furnace-like body next to me… but I still loved it. Loved the smell of winter and the pure promise of snow.

  It helped to center me a little bit, and I tilted my head back, looking at the stars. The heavy clouds that had filled the sky over the mountains earlier in the day were clearing up, and the stars shone brightly above the wisps that remained. Everything else was silent, still. It was the opposite of how I felt, but something I deeply wanted to emulate.

  “He’s going to be okay.” I breathed out the words, the resulting sound less of a whisper and more of an escaping of air. “We always get through these things.”

  It wasn’t much of a pep talk. Even I wasn’t naïve or arrogant enough to believe that just because we had come out on the other side of too many fires to name, this one would follow the same pattern. There was no guarantee of that. But rather than give in to more nihilistic impulses, I chose to believe in that miniscule sliver of hope that we would defy the odds once again.

  “Violet?”

  I turned and saw Morgan standing in the doorframe, Cody by her side, holding her hand. I turned more fully to face them and offered a wave. “Hey. What’s up?”

  She gave me an odd look and then pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “You left the door open. The draft dumps right into Cody’s room, so I thought I better check it out and… You okay?”

  I gave a shrug. “Honestly, I have no idea,” I admitted. “But I’ll get there.”

  Morgan gave me a sympathetic look. “I get that. To be honest, I’m not so good with people. They make me feel… uncomfortable.” She fidgeted, and looked down at Cody. “Cody and I have that in common.”

  Cody gave her a sleepy smile, and she reached down to tousle his hair. I had to admit it was weird seeing Morgan and Cody getting along so well, but somehow, miraculously, after the meeting with Desmond, Cody seemed to have taken to the dark-haired woman.

  Cody shifted his smile to me and nodded. “We’re aliens,” he announced, before his mouth spread open wide in noisy yawn. Morgan gave him a smile and then looked back at me.

  “I should really get him to bed, but… you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’ll be fine,” I reassured
her, a little surprised at how invested she seemed. To be honest, before the showdown with Desmond, we hadn’t spoken more than a handful of sentences with each other, and my first impression of her had been that of a person who went along with orders but sometimes seemed to be sullen or overly skeptical. But since then, she’d also surprised me with moments of sweetness. She never sugarcoated her judgments, but that meant that when she really cared, you knew it. And she clearly cared about Cody.

  She shrugged and nodded, and then headed back down the hall toward Cody’s room. We were short on manpower tonight, having sent every available human into the city, so she and Lynne, from the only other group at our main hideout, were taking turns with Cody. We still didn’t want to leave him alone.

  I watched her go, and then sighed, knowing my break—as short as it had been—was over. I maybe had time to relieve my bladder before I needed to get back down there. I headed back inside, regretfully closing the door behind me.

  There were still many hours before dawn.

  26

  Viggo

  “We could just charge it,” Alejandro said. “It’s what, a hundred feet to all those cars? We grab Tim as we go, stay low and behind the cars, and disappear behind the next building!”

  We stood back twenty or thirty paces from the still burning ashes in the intersection, small bits of wood glowing with pulses of embers. A breeze through the buildings caught some of them, sifting them around in a circle before scattering them farther.

  If anything, this was worse than before. The lighting on the street may have dimmed some, but the embers were still blowing hotly. Attempting to cross at anything other than a reckless run would be suicide, and even that seemed too risky.

  I considered his question. The shots from the building were slowing down, and I felt certain the people inside were gearing up to bring the fight to us. They didn’t know how many of us there were—with Tim pinned down out there, they could even be planning to storm the intersection and take him prisoner, or worse. Clicking over to the main channel, I pressed my fingers together. “Thomas, I know you’re busy right now, but I have a question.”