The Gender Plan (The Gender Game #6)(64)

“Roger that. Could it be fires?”

I listened idly to Logan and Thomas’ transmissions over the main channels, my attention completely on the intersection in front of me. My group was holding our position, our small force pressed into every nook and cranny of the front face of a brick building we were using to conceal ourselves as we moved deeper into the city. The shadows on this lane were deep, dark, and ominous, and a periodic red glow flickered through, marking the next small fire like a beacon.

“Viggo, I need you to wait one more minute—I got some screwy thermals on the screen here.”

This time, it was my drone scout on the line. I acknowledged Violet’s transmission, trying to ignore the tension twisting my guts in knots. I felt exposed and vulnerable out on the street like this. Especially if all the streets looked like this one did.

It stood deserted, but trash and cars were littered across what once had been a picturesque little lane. The cars were everywhere, all of them wrecked—some of them burned-out frames, others wrapped around trees, and still others strewn about, making it look like a small war had taken place here.

Then again, maybe it had. I reached up and touched a jagged bullet hole in the staggered brick pattern of the building next to me, then slowly pulled away, unsettled, as I realized the hole was wide enough for me to put my entire middle finger into, with a little bit of space still left on the sides.

“Thomas, something is really messed up here,” said Violet in my ear. “I don’t think the drones are powerful enough to read deeper into the building.”

“I’m experiencing similar problems—they may not be,” came his reply, as I sighed and kept my eyes flicking over the scene, searching for any sign of movement around us.

The sound of running feet behind us, punctuated by rapid gunfire, caused me to snap around, the hair on my neck rising in alarm. It took me a minute to realize the footsteps were running away from us, as was the intermittent gunfire, and I shook myself. Even then, it was hard to relax. I threw a significant look at Mags, who was situated right behind me, and she returned it as though she shared my sentiment.

“I knew things would get bad. I just didn’t think they’d go this bad this fast.” Guilt churned through me as I looked around the street, my eyes taking in the carnage. “What happened here?”

Mags pushed some of her heavy brown hair off her face, sighing. “All the info we have to go on is rumors, but it looks like the Matrians tore through here as they were retreating. Some people tried to stop them, but…” She trailed off, her bright blue eyes drifting down. She shifted slightly, and then looked up. “It’s easy to believe, because there were so many other places like this. People slaughtered.”

“Who’s cleaning up the bodies?”

Mags nodded up to the apartment buildings surrounding us, and then shrugged. “It’s safer in the day, and there are a lot of little areas like this, where the neighbors work together instead of fighting each other. It won’t last for long, though. The gangs are getting bigger, and food, weapons, and ammo are in short supply. Most people have improvised melee weapons, but the bigger gangs, they’re armed to the teeth. If they need something, they’ll take it, and they won’t care who they have to kill to get it.”

“This is our fault.”

She blinked in surprise and turned to face me, shifting a little closer. “You mean because of the video at the stadiums?”

I nodded and sucked a big breath into my lungs, trying to press down the guilty feeling in my stomach. While it had been a group decision, it was hard not to feel deep personal responsibility. That video had been the catalyst for the chaos the city had fallen into, and now there were people—most of the population of Patrus—trapped inside with no laws, and no protection from the Matrians or from each other. We had known what the ramifications would be, had known there would be fallout… but this destruction, and violence on this level… It was jarring, and hard to push away the guilt. “Yeah.”

Mags gaped at me and then a chuckle escaped her, her head shaking ruefully. “No offense, Viggo, but are you always this arrogant?”

Surprised by her censure, I shook my head, certain I hadn’t heard her correctly. “Excuse me?”

“You think that—”

“Viggo?” Mags’ lecture was cut short as Violet’s voice buzzed in both of our earbuds.

I looked at Mags. “Hold that thought,” I said, and pressed my fingers together. “Yeah?”

“The road ahead is clear, but be cautious with the buildings. Our sensors can’t seem to get much deeper than about fifteen to twenty feet into them, so anybody could be hiding in there. I know for sure there are people in some of the buildings, but they are farther back, probably trying to keep out of view. Just be careful and keep your eyes open.”

“Roger that. Keep the drone in front of us until the next turn, and keep an eye out. I don’t like all these fires on the street.”

“Neither do I. They’re also messing with our thermal scans.”

“Roger. Switching back to team channel.” I quickly changed the channel and gave everyone the lowdown. “Cruz, you and the people behind you break left on the street to the intersection. Let’s get around the corner—keep an eye on the windows.”

“Roger,” said Cruz, and he peeled off across the street, weaving through the vehicles. The men and women behind him followed closely, using whatever they could as cover to keep their advance into the intersection unnoticed. I gave them fifteen seconds, and then stood up.