The Gender Plan (The Gender Game #6)

Eric, one of the other men helping me, handed me a clipboard, and I began to read his carefully handwritten notes regarding the contents of each box. We’d come up with a little alphanumeric code to help track things easier, which was Ms. Dale’s biggest concern about dividing up the teams.

All in all, I thought we had done a pretty good job of splitting everything up as evenly as possible. Some things couldn’t be evenly distributed, but I was pretty proud of the tradeoffs I had made to compensate for the discrepancies. It would work. And, in a stroke of luck, Ms. Dale’s last and final hunt for weapons, ammunition, and general supplies had yielded something. Several others and I had spent hours inventorying the five thousand rounds of ammo, the boxes of comm devices, a dozen boxes filled to the brim with foil-sealed protein blocks, medical supplies (along with some much-needed antibiotics), fifteen barrels of fuel, and even more guns. The last was an added bonus: it meant we could arm more of the rebels.

I paused, noticing something on the list. “Wait, are there really… one thousand units of waterproof bags? Why haven’t I noticed this before?”

Eric turned and gave a little shrug. “Maybe it was in one of the older inventories, and just got overlooked when we redid them? Either that, or they somehow manifested out of thin air.”

“Show me.”

Eric led me over to the small pile of miscellaneous items, and opened one of the larger boxes, revealing the compact, packable black bags, each with a large, stylistically blocked ‘A’ emblazoned on the side. “Ashabee Industries,” I murmured. “I guess this must’ve been a gift bag for his clients?”

“I have no idea,” replied Eric. “You should ask Jeff—I bet he’d know. What do you want me to do with them?”

I smiled slowly. “Distribute them as equally as you can to each group. This is actually a really good find, considering where we might be heading in a day or two.”

Eric knelt down and began separating the bags into three piles. I moved around the rest of our pile of miscellaneous items, considering them all and then carefully writing down which base to send them to. Some things I had already separated out, but others were just too insignificant to actually dole out to any one house. However, nothing got wasted until we were sure there was no use for it, so I sent those to the house with the biggest storage room. Namely, the house Thomas would be operating out of.

I was almost finished when I heard the sound of pounding feet racing up from behind. I turned in alarm, and then relaxed when I saw it was Morgan, Tim hot on her heels.

“Violet, we need you at the house, right now.”

I frowned and put the clipboard down on one of the boxes, hearing the urgency in her voice. “What’s wrong?”

“I saw Cody go into Desmond’s room,” she said.

“Locked door,” added Tim, his face tense and unhappy.

A curse slipped through my lips, and Morgan nodded. “I knew I couldn’t break in there, because you don’t want Desmond knowing that the Liberators have joined you, so I—”

“Did the right thing,” I finished for her. “Do me a favor and go find Owen. Oh, and the car with…” I paused, grabbing the clipboard and quickly shifting through some papers, trying to locate the car and driver with the cargo I needed. “Harry—we need one of those lock-picking devices he’s got.”

“I’ve got Owen,” said Morgan, whirling and running.

“Harry,” grunted Tim in reply, keeping pace.

“Eric, keep working,” I said as I began to jog toward the field as quickly as I dared. Several people looked up at me as I moved, but I ignored their glances, my focus entirely on the house, worry gnawing at my spine. Cody in there with Desmond was not good—who knew what she was saying to him.

I climbed the stairs of the porch, the muscles over my ribcage spasming painfully, reminding me that, yes, I did still have bruised ribs. It riled me that I couldn’t comfortably run yet. I could have been there in seconds, rather than the minute it took me to cross the yard. I threw open the door to the house, my feet thudding heavily on the aged floorboards as I entered.

Lynne was pacing nervously just in front of the door, rubbing her thumbs across the side of her knuckle. “Violet,” she said softly, stepping over to me. “Thank God you’re here. He was playing hide-and-seek with some of the other children, and I lost track of him! He must have found out about the key’s hiding place somehow—I can’t get him to open the door.”

“I got this,” I said, stepping past her and moving over to the door. “Cody!” I shouted, pounding on the door. I pressed my ear against it and listened, but could only hear the faint sound of voices.

“Violet!” came Owen’s voice from behind me, and I automatically stepped aside, making room for him. Owen dropped to one knee and inserted his lock-picking tool into the lock, the mechanics inside whirling. “Tim went to find Harry like you said, but they were looking in the wrong place. Luckily I remembered where they wound up.”

I looked at Morgan, who was crossing over to Lynne, taking the brown-haired woman’s hands and patting her on the shoulder.

“You both should go,” I said quietly. “We can’t risk her seeing you.”

Lynne’s face grew tight, her lips thinning in displeasure. I could tell she didn’t want to leave. Morgan, however, laid a hand on Lynne’s arm. “She’s right. Let’s go.” Lynne hesitated, and then nodded. I watched as they both left, leaving Owen, Tim, and me alone.

There was an audible click as the mechanism finished manipulating the lock, and Owen stood up, slowly opening the door. I slipped in, my heart thudding against my chest, prepared to see the worst.

Cody stood mere feet away from Desmond, his back to me. I could see Desmond from my slightly elevated position, her eyes on his face, in spite of my noisy entrance.

I paused, trying to assess the situation. Cody looked over at me, tossing his hair. He stared at me, and then looked back at Desmond. “Goodbye,” he said, and Desmond gave him a beatific smile.

“Until next time, dear Cody,” she said, extending one shackled hand.

The movement broke me out of the state of surprise I was in. Cody hadn’t done anything to try to break Desmond out. That was… decidedly odd. “Don’t touch him,” I ordered as she continued to stretch her hand toward him, and I took a step into the room. Desmond froze, and then sighed, slowly lowering her hand back into her lap.

“Cody, can you please come to me?” I said.

Cody licked his lips, hesitating. “Am I in trouble?”

“Not if you come to me right now.”

He hesitated another second, and then crossed over to me. I held out my hand, and he took it, allowing me to push him toward the door and out of the room, where Owen was waiting. I moved to leave, when Desmond’s voice stopped me.

“I was beginning to think you’d never come visit me,” she said.