The Gender End (The Gender Game #7)

I fired a few rounds near the first approaching warden, and she danced back a few feet, giving me a little time.

Viggo, can’t you see? Owen grabbed my arm and gave me a look, broken and angry, that sent a clench of fear through my heart. This was what I had sensed in him earlier—the despair that made him want to do stuff like this. I have to do this! I can… finally make up for all the wrong I’ve done you and Violet. I can finally see Ian.

A sharp pain tugged at my heart as he spoke, but… I couldn’t let it happen. Not so close after Thomas. This wasn’t the time or the place for a sacrifice. Not one I could prevent.

I’m sorry, I said, pulling out the length of rope as my bullets whizzed by overhead. But I can’t let you off that easy.

Viggo, I—

NO! I said, activating the suit so I could quickly loop the length of rope around the leg of the tower closest to the edge. I’m getting us out of here.

Owen groaned, and I looked over in time to see him lifting his gun up to his shoulder, firing at the mass of wardens now closing in on us.

You stubborn, egotistical jerk! he shouted as he fired. Don’t you know you can’t control everything?

You’re still up and moving, Owen, I retorted, looping the opposite end of the rope into a makeshift harness and getting into it. He fired another couple of rounds and then pulled back, gasping as his hand went back to his side.

Doesn’t mean you get to decide how I die, he said, his voice harsh with pain. I have to do this.

No, you don’t, I said angrily, moving over to him and grabbing him under his armpits, intending to drag him if necessary. We need you, Owen. Morgan needs you to come back and support her. Violet and I need you to help us rebuild. Thomas sacrificed his life so we could do this and get out alive. So you get to die on this roof the exact second after I do, or not at all!

Owen looked up at me as I dragged him closer to the edge, a wry, bitter smile on his lips, but at least he didn’t resist.

What would Violet say if I let you die?

She would understand.

There was a rattle, indicating that the group of wardens had finally reached the fence, and I handed Owen the detonator as I pulled his back tight to my chest, wrapping my hand around his waist. I wrapped my other arm around the rope and took us over the edge, and then began to rappel down using my makeshift harness to slow us. We were a third of the way down when I heard shouting above, and as I kicked off the side of the building, I ordered—Blow it.

I heard the click right before the explosion, so loud my heart felt it, and an orange-red ball of fire erupted above us with an angry roar. We fell away from it, arcing back toward the building. My feet impacted the side, and I kicked off again, releasing more line so fast that the rope sounded like a zipper. We dropped another thirty feet, landing heavily against the side, my ankles and knees bearing the brunt of Owen’s and my combined weight.

Even though my muscles were burning, I kicked off again as bits of flaming debris began to fall all around us. The rope continued to unravel as I let it out, and then suddenly it was burning through the glove I was wearing, cutting into the flesh of my hand with all the bite of a dull knife. I yanked it away, and then we were in freefall. I wrapped both arms around Owen, my feet around his thighs, knowing when the rope caught us we would jerk, and he might fall.

There was a sharp and sudden tug as the rope ran out, and my shoulders and waist screamed in protest as the rope tried to cut right through them, but I kept a hard grip on Owen.

You’re insane! he shouted as we bounced upward a few feet.

We fell back down, the rope tightening again. Then there was a loud creaking sound from above, and I looked up to see the top of the radio tower wobbling, the rope wobbling with it. There was a sharp, metallic twang, and suddenly gravity was pulling us back down.

We landed hard in the bushes below. For a second, I just lay there—gnarled branches and twigs digging into my flesh—staring uncomprehendingly at the roof dozens of feet above, and the tower jutting off of it at an angle, bobbing up and down a few times before going still.

Owen? I asked, sitting up and then stopping as a wave of intense pain radiating from my shoulder warned me not to move.

Looking down, I saw a broken tree branch jutting through my shoulder, right above my collarbone. As if looking at it suddenly made me feel it, I grated my teeth against the fresh wave of pain that seemed to be exploding all around it, but there was very little blood. A good sign.

Owen, I gasped, looking over to my right. Are you okay?

I’m here, he replied softly. Bushes broke our fall. I’m still… You threw us off of the roof.

I did. Can you—

“NOBODY MOVE!” a female voice bellowed, and I tilted my chin to my chest to see a dozen or so wardens—one of them holding a flame thrower, of all things—standing in a semi-circle around us while fire and smoke wafted up from the rooftop. I lifted my uninjured arm, straining against the pain, flicking off my subvocalizer while I was at it, and put on my most congenial smile.

“We have important information about Queen Elena that shows she’s a war criminal,” I announced very slowly, wincing as the pain in my shoulder continued to grow.

“Tell it to the brig,” one of the women snapped, coming around and hauling Owen up. Then it was my turn, and before I could point out the branch, I was hauled off of it, the branch yanked out. My vision went white as the pain took me over, and I felt myself being dragged away.

Please, I thought to myself, let Violet be okay.





42





Violet





Now that Elena was on the rampage, the boys moved—some of them much faster than others, some running away, some attacking, the difference between the ones in masks and the ones not blurring—but I looked away and down, searching for the gun Tim had pulled out of the queen’s hands. I could hear the sounds of fighting, Elena grunting, but I focused on finding the gun, knowing the boys were protecting me, giving me a few extra seconds.

“She fast!” Tim warned from behind me, and I looked up to see several blurs moving across the roof, barely ducking in time as a boy was flung over my head, landing a few feet behind me. Tim raced over to help him, and I continued my search, keeping an eye on the fighting.

“She must’ve taken pills for speed and strength at the same time,” I shouted back, spotting the gun a few feet away and making for it.

I was halfway to it when Elena’s face was suddenly in my vision, just inches away, the smile on her lips growing wide, until her teeth were bared like a snake’s.