The Gender Fall (The Gender Game #5)(100)

Jeff stood up, a bewildered expression on his face. “Are you okay?” I asked, and he nodded, blinking.

I moved back through the doors of the first VIP box, relieved to see Cad still firing down at the wardens below. I could already see the remains of the crowd surging toward the openings we had given them, streaming in shouting, horrified disarray for the doors. As much as I hated it, we needed to go if we wanted to get out of here alive. Now the people could see to themselves.

“Cad, let’s go!” I shouted, and he turned back to me, nodding. He kept himself low as he raced up the stairs toward me. I waited until he was through and then slammed the door closed. The gunfire from farther down the hall had stopped, and I found myself suddenly worried about the fate of Ms. Dale and Amber.

I moved toward the next checkpoint, taking a moment to eject the clip and double check how many bullets were inside. Our plan was becoming a wild mess, thanks to the Matrians. The sounds of panic continued through the doors, and I exhaled sharply, angry that I had to leave them all behind, that I couldn’t stay and help them more. Angry that once again I had to be in the position of watching innocents die. But I wouldn’t think about that now. I couldn’t. My team’s lives were depending on me and my decision, and it was my responsibility to make sure we all got out alive.

Still, a part of me feverishly hoped one of the citizens below would at least go for one of the weapons that had been dropped by the dead Matrian soldiers. Better to die fighting than running.

As the checkpoint came into view, I felt a supreme sense of satisfaction to see Amber and Ms. Dale on their feet, waiting for us. There were several bodies on the floor around them, but it seemed their battle had left them unscathed.

“You okay?” I asked, noticing Cruz standing off to the side, now with a rifle in his hands.

“Peachy,” Amber answered for all of them. “Can we get the hell out of here, please?”

I nodded, looking around for the signs guiding us to the various exits. We had come around the backside of the stadium, and the signs read that we were close to exit F. I spent an instant debating the pros and cons of staying on this level.

“We need to get to the ground level,” Ms. Dale announced, her mind grappling with the same problem. “There’s the stairs. Let’s head down them and get lost in the crowd.”

Opening my mouth to reply in agreement, I looked over her shoulder and froze as I saw a pair of wardens leveling their weapons at us. My right hand shot up, finger on the trigger, but a spray of fire tore across them before I could pull it, their bodies jerking as the bullets impacted.

They fell bonelessly to the floor, and behind me, I saw Cruz lower the rifle, smoke trailing from its muzzle. He met my gaze with a shrug, and then nodded toward the exit.

“Let’s get out of here,” he called, heading forward.

Jeff and Cad were already moving. I let out a breath, shook my head, and then hightailed it after them, urging Ms. Dale and Amber forward. We headed toward the gap in the wall where the stairs were waiting, moving at a flat run.

Cruz reached the stairs first and positioned himself right behind the wall at the top, covering us. I peered over my shoulder, well aware that wardens could be coming up behind us. Jeff and Cad made the stairs, and I grimaced as Cad practically leapt down to the first landing, hearing the sound of his shoes sliding on the floor as he hit. Amber and Ms. Dale were more practical as they raced down, their feet flying down the steps. I tapped Cruz, and he followed them.

I waited, wanting to give them a few seconds to head downstairs in safety, my eyes flicking from one end of the hallway to the other. I could still hear the sound of gunfire through the doors just past me, but it was growing more sporadic, the screams inside lost in the sound of nearer screams tearing through the halls as, hopefully, people got out.

My heart hammered in my chest as I waited for Cruz to clear the next landing. As soon as he was down, I moved. The back of my neck tingled in anticipation of a gunshot as I raced down the stairs, but none came. Clearing the landing, I saw Cad and Jeff waiting for me, waving me forward and left. I ran past them just as gunfire exploded overhead, the crack of it echoing loudly in the enclosed, concrete stairwell.

I didn’t stop. Ms. Dale and Amber had reached the bottom floor, which opened onto a small foyer for a back exit—thankfully, we’d reached one of the main stairwells that ran all the way down to the ground floor. The two women stopped at the sight of two wardens guarding this entrance, currently facing sideways from us to pour bullets into the encroaching crowd.

I raised my gun, but Amber and Ms. Dale were already on it, mowing them down—hopefully making room for more panicked people to escape. If there were any left, that was.

Apparently there were. People began clamoring into the foyer from the wide doors that led to the stadium, surging toward us as we raced from the stairs to the door, our paths intersecting in a rush like an old cavalry battle. I pressed my shoulder against the wall, steadying myself in the crowd that swirled around me, and followed Ms. Dale and Amber as they raced for a small lobby door twenty feet ahead. Ms. Dale kicked it open as she reached it and pushed Amber through, pressing out behind her. The late afternoon sunlight beamed through the opening into the dim room like a ray of hope. Cruz was seconds behind them, seeming to appear from nowhere as he leapt through.

I raced for it as well, grunting as a woman slammed into me, her face splattered with blood. She took a look at the gun in my hand and then screamed, jerking away. I reached out, trying to catch her, to steady her, but she disappeared into the crowd as it raced by. I cursed, my anger souring in my stomach, but didn’t stop moving, even as the crowd jostled me.