The Gender Fall (The Gender Game #5)(58)



All the lights that had illuminated the camp fell dark at once, and shouts erupted behind us, the guards’ voices farther than I would have expected, and—thank God—getting farther away still. Owen and I took that as our cue, breaking into a run as a fireball rose up from the spot where Violet had crashed the drone.

Owen reached our escape hole before me and yanked the fence aside, letting me go first. I turned sideways and slipped through it, taking care not to catch Cody’s dragging limbs on one of the jagged ends of the wire. After a few seconds, we were both through, racing toward where we had parked the car.

Our footsteps thudding through the darkness, we made it through the tree line and to the car without alarms ringing out or bullets flying after us. Owen opened the back door first, and I deposited Cody’s limp body into the backseat; then, as Owen climbed in shotgun, I raced around the car and practically dove into the driver’s seat. Jamming the key into the ignition, I slammed the car into gear and took off, not even bothering to check what direction we were going. In the review mirror, I saw Owen peering back at the darkened camp behind us, clearly checking whether we were being followed.

I clenched the wheel tighter and pressed the accelerator, too tense to feel any form of relief.





23





Violet





We made it to the car, Viggo announced over the radio, breaking the tense silence that had stretched out between us. I exhaled sharply, leaning back against my chair as a wave of relief hit me hard, making my muscles sag on my bones. Around the room, the rest of the group was visibly relieved as well. Ms. Dale had one hand on her hip, the other braced on the table, which looked to be the only thing holding her up, and even Thomas seemed shaken.

“What was that?” I asked Viggo. “What took you so long?” I’d been monitoring the area around Viggo and Owen, watching the guards and the person—it must have been the boy—who was racing around the camp at impossible speeds, his body fiery colors. As desperately as I’d wanted to hover over Viggo and Owen, watching their every move, I hadn’t had time to stop my surveillance and really see what was going on where they were located.

We took one of the boys, Viggo told me solemnly. It doesn’t look like we’re being pursued, but we need advice on how to proceed.

I turned back to my controls, prepared to use the drone to give them some information about the area, only to remember, as I saw the black screen buzzing with static in front of me, that I had crashed the drone into the generators. I slid my hand out of the metal tubes, almost sadly. Beside me, Thomas’ fingers were flying over his keyboard as he spoke.

“Do not come back here,” he said into his mic. “We don’t know who’s tracking those boys, or how. I’m researching an area remote enough to direct you to. What direction are you heading now?”

I frowned and cocked my head, shooting a glance at Ms. Dale, who was bobbing her head in agreement with Thomas. I stood and moved over to her, shakily stretching my limbs. Seeming to catch the question in my eyes, the old spy told me in a soft voice, “Thomas is right. We could lead them right back here, and we can’t compromise the integrity of this base. Especially since we don’t have a fallback location ready yet.”

I bit my lip and nodded, feeling slow for not recognizing that earlier. “Of course,” I said. “That’s smart.”

Ms. Dale gave me a conciliatory smile and placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure you would’ve puzzled that out for yourself soon enough. You did really well tonight.”

I ran a hand down my face. “I appreciate you saying that, but I’m not so sure. I mean, I should’ve used the thermal scanning on the tents. Then we would’ve known it was a trap, and none of this would be happening.”

“No.” Ms. Dale’s grip on my shoulder tightened, and she shook her head emphatically, her hair, in a tight braid, jerking over her shoulder. “There were three people in this room, and we all missed that. Yes, it was a dumb oversight, but you aren’t to blame. If anything, I am—I should’ve asked you to do it, but to be honest, I was more concerned about those trailers than the tents as well.”

Her words made me feel a little better, but still… “We need to be better next time,” I said stiffly.

Ms. Dale grinned at me. “We’re always going to need to do better,” she replied. “It’s just part of being in charge. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

I nodded and then turned to see Thomas looking at us expectantly.

“What’s the plan?” I asked, bringing my mind back to the task at hand: getting Viggo, Owen, and the captured—hopefully, now rescued—boy safely back here.

“Not a lot of good options in the area. That death camp was practically at the foot of one of the mountains. I have them heading south now, trying to buy a little time, but there aren’t a lot of roads for them to use.”

“Roads would be a bad call anyway,” replied Ms. Dale, toying with her braid with one hand. Her gaze was thoughtful as she considered the problem. “The guards at that camp will have already notified their higher-ups, and, seeing as the camp was bait, I would be surprised if they didn’t have troops nearby, ready to do a sweep. No—we need to do something a bit more unexpected to buy us some time.”

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