The Gender Plan (The Gender Game #6)

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.”

“I just threw up my final firewall,” replied Thomas. “That’ll buy us at least twenty minutes, and then the cameras are gone. What’s up?”

“How long is the distance between neighboring manhole lids?”

Mags shot me a curious look, clearly wondering where I was going with this. To be honest, even I wasn’t sure if it was worth a shot. But I had the kernel of an idea rooted inside of me.

“On average… three hundred and fifty feet, but in older parts of the cities, the manholes are spaced out a bit farther.”

“And the water in the sewers right now… can it kill me?” I wanted to double check. “Does it have any water from the river in it?” I watched Mags’ confusion disappear, and she made a face, as if she had smelled something rotten. I understood that look—but if I could get into the sewers, then I might be able to get us out of our current predicament.

“No, the sewers drain from the city into pipes that extend over the river. King Patrick’s father was adamant about not having any chance of the river getting into his system. As for the cleanliness of it… They had to flood the system with clean water from the building, while also preventing it from draining. However, the ratio of fresh water to… mmm… soiled water is about 93.7 to 6.3.”

I took a deep breath, setting my mind to fully understanding what this alternative path could offer and whether it would be worth it, and then checked my watch. We had thirty minutes before Ms. Dale hit her rendezvous. Amber had hit hers ten minutes ago, and Drew had been at his for twenty. My and Ms. Dale’s teams were the last ones, and we all needed to make it on time, or this mission was a no-go.

“Wait one minute,” I said into the mic. Turning to Mags, I looked at her, prepared to ask her a question, when she started speaking.

“I can’t swim,” she blurted out. “Papa never let me learn. So if your plan is to just have us follow the street down to cross, that isn’t going to work.”

I faltered. That had been my plan. However, I had overlooked the fact that not everyone in the group would know how to swim—or be strong enough swimmers under the dangerous conditions of the sewers. I was certain Alejandro was, but... Could Tim even swim?

I looked over to where Tim was crouched behind the trunk of the car. “Any minute, they’re going to send people out of the building,” I said. “They’ll try to flank us, come at us from both sides. We need to get out of here, and the only way to do that is down that street. Do you see any other options here? I really am looking.”

Mags hesitated, and then stood up and scooped the map into her hands. “C’mon,” she said as she darted over to Alejandro’s side of the street, moving over to her uncle.

The man standing next to Alejandro moved to one side as she shouldered her way into their line, looking up at the building, studying it. I moved in close to her, apologetically shoving the man next to Alejandro farther down, and looked over her shoulder as she considered the building and the map together.

“Okay, this might sound crazy, but could we use the sewer to get in under the building?” She lowered the map, and I blinked at her.

“I have no idea,” I said. “One sec.” I quickly transmitted the question to Thomas.

“Absolutely, but the entryway will be narrow and difficult to see,” he affirmed. “It would be very easy to miss in the dark.”

Mags smiled widely, a dimple forming in her cheek. “You and a few men get into that building and ambush them from behind,” she said. “We’ll get in a shootout with them down here to distract them, while you go take their advantage away.”

I found myself nodding approvingly. I liked her plan instantly—but I would need help. “Alejandro, Mags, get me anybody who can swim. Five is good, but ten would be better. Split the difference if you can. You’re going to need the manpower too.”