The Gender Plan (The Gender Game #6)(95)

I looked at his shoulder, and then nodded. “Waiting on you,” I replied as I turned back to the small door that led to the plant and the rest of our mission. Apprehension tried to take over my brain, but I shouldered it aside.

We just had to hope for as little resistance from inside as possible, though that hope sounded dim given what we’d encountered just getting here. I nodded to Alejandro, and he pulled back the heavy metal door. A red glow emitted from the wall across from me, illuminating the small service corridor that bordered one of the massive tank rooms. I could hear the loud roar of machines churning deep inside the plant through the entrance.

Pulling out a hand mirror, I handed it to Alejandro, who held it out into the hall, checking the left side. It wasn’t something everyone had considered bringing, but I had brought mine, my time as a warden having taught me the importance of it for checking blind spots. Mine happened to be one of three on our team. He dutifully handed it over to Mags, who did the same on the right. “It’s clear,” she said softly, handing it to me, and I slipped it back into my pocket.

I stepped forward into the hall. The red emergency lighting lit it up well, revealing only small pipes—probably filled with chemicals to treat the water—lining the wall, periodically feeding back into the wall or into a box.

“Viggo?” Violet’s voice in my ear was soft, but there was an edge to it.

“Violet?” I asked, taking a step deeper into the plant. “It’s not a really good time.”

“I know that, but this is important.”

I hesitated, and then turned, disconnecting the microphone so I didn’t transmit orders meant for others over the line. “Cruz, Mags, take two teams of five and find the doors. The one on the east side needs to be secured and locked, while the one on the west leads to our first room on the way to the control center.”

Mags nodded and began giving orders in hushed tones. I stepped deeper into the hall and then put my back against the wall, giving people room to move by. “What’s up?”

“I guess this goes for everyone, really, but there was something off about that enhanced man.”

I frowned, confusion coming over me. It took me a minute to remember what she was talking about—which was understandable after everything that had just happened. “What was it?”

“He was… angry. Kind of berserk.” She delivered the information matter-of-factly, but I could hear the bomb drop in her words. I suddenly felt rooted in place, my stomach churning in horror as I realized what she was saying.

“Oh my God,” I said.

“What?” asked Henrik, confusion roughening his voice. “What are you talking about?”

“Hold on a second,” I said. “Thomas, is it possible that whatever they have been contaminating the water with is making it out into the city fountains already?”

“Possible. Especially the ones closer to the plant,” announced Thomas grimly. “But you seem to have drawn a conclusion based on some yet-to-be-explained data.”

“He was like Solomon,” Violet said, her tone bitter, angry. “Angry and prone to attack everything around him. That’s not like the boys we’ve known, especially when they’re on the Benuxupane.”

There was a long stretch of quiet as we all absorbed this information, and then Violet continued. “What if Elena isn’t dumping Benuxupane or poison? What if she’s putting in the pill that Desmond gave to Solomon? What if her game is to show the Matrian people how dangerous the Patrian people have become, and wage her war against them openly, with their full support?”

There was another long silence, and then Thomas spoke. “The efficacy of that plan would be astronomical,” he whispered, unable to keep the awe out of his voice. “It would incite a primal fear in the Matrians—their next-door neighbors have become monsters capable of incredible feats of strength, but suffering from extreme rage and unable to control their behavior. She could even let the people inside the city tear themselves apart… and just keep them from leaving the city through those checkpoints they set up. It’s brilliant.”

A loud bang came from down the hall, and I jumped, turning toward it. “Mags?” I said.

The comm buzzed, and it was Henrik, trying to shoot down the idea, but I already knew in my gut that it was true. Everything was worse than we’d feared, and the plant had gotten infinitely more dangerous. I ignored the discussion and took a few steps forward, allowing the curve to illuminate more of the hall. “Mags?” I repeated.

The bang came again, this time more of a clatter, like loose metal rattling in its brackets. “Viggo?” came Mags’ questioning voice, and I came around the curve a few feet back. The hall acted like a tunnel, the walls stopping abruptly and opening into a small room with grated steps leading to the next door. Tim was slowly backing down the steps, toward Mags, who stood by the entrance, her gun trained on the door. Something slammed into it with another loud bang, and the door flew back a few feet and then toppled over, part of it hanging over on the stairs.

I almost knew what I was going to see before I saw it. An olive-clad woman stepped out, her hands balled into fists. The skin over her knuckles was torn and bleeding freely, and she peered at us from beneath a lowered brow, her lips curled up in a silent snarl. She wiped the back of her arm over her mouth, and then screamed, a throaty, angry sound, leaping into the air and coming down in front of Tim.