The Gender End (The Gender Game #7)

Viggo held out a hand to me, and I took it, marveling yet again that my arm felt as good as new. Better, even.

“We’ll grab you some chow from the mess,” said Cad, and Margot rolled her eyes.

“Listen to him using words like ‘chow’ and ‘mess’—thinks he’s a real soldier now!”

I chuckled. “Some chow would be great, but you don’t have to put yourself out. We’ll get some later, after we—”

“We’ll bring you something,” said Margot firmly. “You need to eat, especially if you’re running on empty like everyone else around here is.”

She didn’t even wait for me to argue or agree, just held up a hand as I opened my mouth. “Nuh-uh,” she sang, looking down at her children, and they began to sing nuh-uh as she led them down the hall, Cad following with a bemused expression on his face. He gave a little wave and a shrug as they turned the corner, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Our family is weird,” Viggo said. “But a lot of fun.”

Our family. I slid my hand into his and leaned into him. “Let’s go see Jay,” I said, feeling like my run-in with everyone had helped buoy my spirits enough to hopefully pass that love on to him. I knew it wouldn’t help him or change anything, but being there for each other in difficult times was what gave us all the strength to carry on. And after all this, Jay was part of our family too.





15





Viggo





It had been years since I had been in this building, but not much had changed. The same pictures hung on the walls, although there were a few new teachers, some of whom I had served with. Maybe most significantly, unlike other buildings in Patrus, this one was whole and unscathed.

Ms. Dale opened the door at the end of the hall, and I could see that a lot had been accomplished in the last twenty-four hours. Normally there were bunk beds, but they had been pulled apart and then beds rearranged in neat little rows, crammed together as close as possible.

The smell of antiseptic and blood hit my nose as we stepped in, and I could see that most of beds were filled, some with people I recognized, most with people I didn’t. The soft noise of talking and murmurs and groans of pain filled the room, and I could see that among the beds, Dr. Tierney and Dr. Arlan were moving, flowing between them and moving from patient to patient, working in tandem.

Dr. Tierney spotted us and nodded us toward a bed, but Tim was already heading in that direction, Violet on his heels. He came around one of the beds and sat down on an adjacent one, and I paused, noticing the crumpled blankets at the foot of the bed he sat on—Tim had been sleeping in the bed next to Jay, probably the entire time we were gone.

Violet sat down next to Jay. The young man’s eyes were closed, and an IV line ran from a bag into the back of his hand. His skin was pale, and part of his hair was matted to his forehead from sweat.

“Jay,” Violet called softly, putting her hand in his. The young man didn’t move, and the hopeful look on Tim’s face dimmed slightly. “Jay?” She called his name again, a bit more loudly, but there was no sign of him waking.

I looked around for Dr. Tierney, and spotted her with her back to me. She was treating a patient, but I couldn’t tell who and I didn’t want to interrupt her in case it was critical. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t move a bit closer and try to grab her attention once she finished.

So I did. I moved down the row, heading toward her, and two things became clear to me. The first was that the patient she was treating was sitting, not lying down, and the second was that they were being difficult. When I heard the patient’s voice, I felt myself smiling, even as Mags hopped onto her feet, her round face red.

“I’m fine!” she insisted loudly, crumpling a wad of fabric in her hands and tossing it back onto the bed. “There are a lot more critical patients here that you should be concerning yourself with!”

She went to move past Dr. Tierney, but Dr. Tierney’s hand shot out and grabbed the shorter woman’s shoulder. Mags cried out in pain, but Dr. Tierney looked unapologetic about it as she pushed Mags back toward the bed.

“I’ve had quite enough of your and your family’s belligerence today, Magdelena,” she said as she forced Mags into a sitting position. “I swear to the mother there is something in the water that gives you lot thick skulls and a poor disposition, but I’m not tolerating it. You will wear this sling until I say otherwise, and if I catch you trying to use your arm during that time, I can and will tranq you, drag you back here, and tie you to a bed. Do you understand me?”

Mags glared up at her, her mouth a tight grimace. I was close enough to see Dr. Tierney’s eyebrow lift in daring challenge, and after a long tense moment, Mags cursed and leaned back.

“Fine!” she spat, awkwardly holding out her arm. “I’m fine, though.”

“No, you aren’t, and firing your rifle today has only exaggerated the bruising on the tendon. If you keep doing it, it will rip, and then I’ll have to perform surgery. Given how your uncle reacted to that idea, I shudder to think how you would, so you mind me. Understand?”

“I understand,” Mags mumbled, and Dr. Tierney nodded once before helping Mags get back into her sling.

“Smart girl,” croaked Alejandro, and I realized he was lying in the bed just past Mags, propped up by a few thin pillows against the metal frame.

Mags rolled her eyes skyward and sighed in defeat. Dr. Tierney glanced over at Alejandro and frowned. “You’re one to talk,” she said, a mite sarcastically, and Alejandro managed to paint a thin smile on his face before his gaze shifted over her shoulder and met mine.

“Hey-yo, boyo,” he said, catching my eye, and I smiled.

“Hey Alejandro—Mags—Dr. Tierney,” I said in greeting, moving up the last few feet to them.

Dr. Tierney tied off the sling and then turned, giving me a considering look as her hand disappeared into the pocket of the coat she was wearing. Withdrawing a scanner, she pointed at me and clicked it on. “I’m fine,” I insisted as she ran the beam over me. “And I’m sorry to intrude. I just came to find out what’s going on with Jay. Ms. Dale said he might not be able to walk?”

Dr. Tierney’s eyes were on the scanner, reading the results as she moved it up and down. “I can’t retrieve the bullet right now because it’s so close to his spine, but it’s too early to say for certain what the end result will be. It is a possibility, however.”

“Well, Violet has this thing she thinks might help, and—”

Dr. Tierney’s eyes shot up, and she cocked her head at me. “What thing?”

“Well, I’m not even entirely sure,” I admitted honestly. “All I know is that her arm is healed and—wait a second, doc.”

She had started to push past me, but I managed to stop her, and she turned back. “What’s going on with Alejandro?” I asked.

“I’m fine,” Alejandro insisted at the same time Dr. Tierney said, “It’s not good, and not likely to get better until your friend lets me operate!”