The Gender Plan (The Gender Game #6)(76)

I could reach out and touch the sides of the walls in this passage, but I focused on the ceiling, using the natural fingerhold of the bricks to propel myself along. Resisting the urge to gasp for breath, I rolled my head back, looking for some sign of the next manhole, but found nothing. The urge to panic was back, my body starting to shake violently. My vision dimmed and went gray for a second, and I had to clamp my teeth together to keep myself from inhaling.

I began to stretch farther forward, my hands grabbing the bricks in claw-like fashion. My chest burned and my neck clenched. I was so focused on fighting back the impending unconsciousness that I almost didn’t notice it when my hand hit empty space. I followed it forward and up, kicking my feet as my hips dragged against the corner of the brick. I was already trying to inhale when I surfaced, suctioning the mask tighter to my face.

Ripping it off, I gasped, and then gagged and coughed, my body’s instincts stepping over each other in relief. I sucked in another gasp of air, this one better, more familiar, and felt the deep satisfaction of being alive. Reaching up with shaking arms, I slipped my fingers through the small holes on the bottom of the lid, giving my legs a moment to rest.

I breathed in sharp pants, water blowing off my lips. I fought back a shiver, my arms and limbs aching from the cold and oxygen deprivation. I desperately wanted to sit there for longer, but I knew that whoever was coming behind me was going to be just as desperate for air, and I couldn’t block their way. I also had to check whether this was actually our exit.

Flexing the arm that held me up, I raised my torso a few more inches out of the water, turning my ear toward the holes and listening. I heard the rustle of leaves overhead, and realized I was somewhere under the park. Which was good—it meant I only had one more stop to go.

After exhaling slowly and sucking in an equally slow breath, I replaced the mask and dove. I dropped the marker and kept on, using the brick stone like a ladder. The next manhole felt significantly closer, and even though I surfaced quickly, I was less winded than before. I raised myself up a few inches, listening to the street.

Gunfire popped loudly overhead, and I heard the sound of heavy feet moving. A shadow carrying a bright torch passed by, and I quickly slipped my fingers out of the holes in the lid, not wanting to risk the chance of being discovered.

“BOY!” bellowed someone overhead, and I pressed myself even lower into the water. “WALK OVER HERE OF YOUR OWN FREE WILL, AND WE SHALL LET YOU LIVE! YOUR FRIENDS HAVE ABANDONED YOU!”

There was the sound of distant gunfire, and I heard boots scuffling back, some men cackling. “A mother never abandons her young!” I heard Mags’ voice clearly, and shook my head. If she’d wanted the men’s attention on her, then she had gotten it.

Something tugged hard on my pants, and I realized how much time I had wasted listening. I sucked in a deep breath, replacing the mask, and just as I was pushing back into the water, I heard the leader start giving orders.

Under the water, I made out Cruz’s face in the mask. He pointed up, and I stopped him, pointed to my ear, and then pointed up. He made a circle with his finger and thumb, and then shot up. I let him pass, dropping a marker down under him, and then continued swimming, hoping that Cruz would hear part of the orders.

I kept moving along the ceiling, pausing for just a moment to shine the flashlight around the tunnel. The next opening slowly revealed itself, and I swam up to it, pausing when I realized it was a grate placed right against the surface of the water. It was large enough for a fully grown man to squeeze through, but I was worried it wasn’t going to open.

I planted my hand against it and pushed. The grating wobbled, but held fast. Pushing off it, I allowed myself to sink down to the bottom, planting my feet on the rock below. I sank down farther, folding my knees up and pressing my butt down to the bottom—then pushed off hard from the floor, thrusting my arm up toward the grate with as much energy as I could muster.

The flat of my palm connected to the grating, and a side of it pushed up. My lungs starting to squeeze again, I continued to press on it, forcing it out of the way.

I climbed out of the hole in the floor, and a wave of cold air hit me. Water splashed all over the dark orange floor. I slid my mask off my face, letting it drop, taking slow and steady breaths as I moved the flashlight around the room.

It was small. One door, closed, stood ten feet away from the rectangular hole leading to the sewer. Rows of pipes lined the wall, some leading back into it, others moving through large metal drums or branching into new pipes. A bare wall was behind me.

I dropped a wharf-marker down into the hole, and then stripped off my shirt, twisting it into a long line and squeezing as much water out of it as I could. There was a swish and slap in the water, and then Cruz surfaced, his hands gripping the sides and hoisting himself up until he was sitting with his legs dangling in the water.

The mask made a popping noise as he broke the seal and took it off, and he managed a deep breath, his chest heaving. “The leader, he ordered his men to go to the roof of the building across the street from Mags,” he said, running a hand over his short hair to slick some of the water out. “He sent another group of men to come in from Tim’s street, so she’s pinned from three locations.”

Digging into my pocket, I used my still damp shirt to try to collect any residual moisture from my face, especially my ears. The bundle with the earbuds slipped into my hand, and I quickly unwrapped the items.