The Gender End (The Gender Game #7)

“She’s in the back of our vehicle,” Morgan said softly, keeping her eyes downcast and fidgeting slightly—a good choice for her, I thought proudly. “It seemed wrong to leave her there like that. She gave so much to our people, and they’ll never even know.”

I was so glad she was the one saying that. If I had tried, I didn’t think I could’ve gotten the words out through my teeth. Maybe it was easier for Morgan because Desmond had kept Morgan alive, even if it was with the threat of Elena hanging over her head. Either way, the commander’s eyes grew wide.

“Keep your guns on these men,” she barked to her soldiers. “Don’t let them move.”

One of the women moved up to the six men standing by the front of the car, her eyes narrowed. “We’ll watch them, Captain,” she said with a smile. Then she drove the butt of her rifle into Viggo’s stomach, and he doubled over, immediately wheezing for air.

It took everything I had to remain perfectly still, to keep my face calm even as she reached down to grab his chin and yank him upright, pushing him hard against the hood of the car.

“Captain?” I said, giving her a look. “As much as I want to be in on that, I swore to myself I would see them brought to the queen, intact and whole.”

The captain stared at me—long enough for me to wonder if I had blown our cover by saying something—and then, finally, gave a slow nod. “She’s right. Stand down.”

The woman pouted, but didn’t object. She gave Viggo another shove, gentler than the last one, and then let him go, backing away before joining the five women in a line behind her. Their guns had lowered some, in the course of our conversation, and I was beginning to sense that they believed us.

Viggo watched her go, his breath coming in pants as he struggled to stand upright. I knew that wasn’t acting. I met his gaze, and he gave me an almost imperceptible shake of his head, warning me not to pay too much attention. He straightened up slowly, fighting through the pain to reassure me, and I loved him all the more in that moment.

Morgan waved the commander over to the second car, and pulled open the back to reveal the black body bag we’d tucked Desmond’s remains into. She stepped back as the commander reached over to unzip it. I turned away. Even acting, I couldn’t stomach seeing Desmond’s remains, as justified as her death had been.

I could hear the captain’s sharp intake of breath, and the zipper was quickly pulled closed. “She looks…”

“Those creatures have superhuman strength,” Ms. Dale said softly. “It… It wouldn’t stop hitting her.”

It was a believable lie, considering the remains, and as the captain stepped back, I saw her nodding. “It’s a miracle you all are alive,” she said. “We heard the reports about those things as well… Can you imagine? Just across the river.” She shuddered and fell silent.

“I’m just glad you believe us,” Ms. Dale said. “When we landed, we couldn’t believe it ourselves. I mean, we were in The Outlands.”

“Well, your report coincides with the sighting of a loose bird heading that direction, so you’re in luck there. Did you, uh, see any signs of life out there?”

Everyone shook their heads slowly. “Just rocks,” Amber said. “Lots of rocks.”

Captain Harris gave a smile then—just a ghost of one—and then nodded again. “All right. I’m going to call this in to Command to figure out what they want to do, as well as to verify you are who you say you are. You four come around to the front and wait for your orders. You’ll get your weapons back when your identities are confirmed.”

I licked my lips. If they sent her a picture of any of the wardens we were impersonating, then we were caught. Luckily, we all had weapons hidden on us, so on the off chance we were discovered, we could defend ourselves. However, that route would make our job infinitely more dangerous—if we had to fight this group, and they were able to get word to Elena that we weren’t who we claimed we were, things would get hairy very quickly.

I followed the captain around the vehicle, letting Morgan close the back door, sealing Desmond’s remains back inside. I came to a stop just past our “prisoners”—a quick scan showed me that Viggo’s breathing had normalized—and watched as the captain continued to move past the line of her women. I waited, watching in silence.

Seconds went by, and I changed position, idly moving over to Ms. Dale’s side. She leaned her head down to me as I moved up, and I whispered, “Think they’re buying it?”

“It’s a believable story,” she replied quietly. “But you never know. Elena’s cagey. Who knows what protocols she’s come up with?”

I sighed and turned back around, linking my hands behind my back. The waiting was the worst part of this. There was nothing to do but wonder if this was the part where we were gunned down, our dream of stopping Elena finished before it even really got started.

Seconds grew into minutes, and I could see the captain reading off our identification papers to somebody on her handheld. I drew in a breath and moved over to Amber and Morgan.

“You two holding up?”

“We are,” Amber murmured. “But if they start shooting, our boys are right on the front line.”

“I know,” I said, feeling the nervous tremor in my body start again and firmly pushing it aside. “This is going to work.”

As if on cue, the captain turned and began walking back. I held my breath, and then moved forward to meet her. “What are our orders?” I asked as she pushed silently through the line of women. I felt a small burst of hope unfurl—one that continued to blossom as the captain held out our identification papers to me.

“Report to the palace,” she said. “Go straight to the garage, and wait for Commander Duvall to greet you. The queen wants the prisoners secured and locked up immediately.”

I nodded as I took the papers. “Thank you.”

“People are scared, so try to take the quieter streets. The queen doesn’t want a lot of attention drawn to your convoy.”

“Because of the prisoners,” I commented, folding my papers and tucking them into the breast pocket, and she shook her head.

“Because you went to The Outlands and came back. With what’s going on in Patrus, she doesn’t want anyone knowing that people actually survived out there.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I scoffed. “We only survived because we had supplies on board. As it stands we’re almost out of food.”

“I agree, but people are scared. Stay off the main streets.”

“Will do,” I said. “Thank you, Captain Harris.”

“You’re welcome, Ms. Carver. Please collect your guns and prisoners, and go.”

I smiled, and then began shouting orders to everyone. Just minutes later, we were driving again, moving steadily away from the anti-ship missile station, the captain raising her hand in farewell in our rearview mirror.

“Are you okay?” I asked as soon as the group was out of sight, whirling around and reaching for the cuffs around Viggo’s hands.