The Gender War (The Gender Game #4)(15)

“Jay—”

“Jay!”

This time Viggo and I both called out in concern, but he was already on his way.

On the other side of the ship, Ms. Dale was shouting, “Somebody get the weapons! Does this thing have a life raft?”

Alejandro turned to her and began shouting too, and Viggo groaned. “We’ve gotta get everyone organized if we’re all going to make it out of this,” he said to me. “Jay’s tough—he can handle this.”

I turned to follow Viggo to the bow. I knew he was right, but I hated it. Jay was so young to be in constant danger… How could I find a better life for him, let alone my brother and all the boys, if I couldn’t even keep them from risking their lives by following me? But where would be safer?

Thinking about the tangle that was Matrus and Patrus, I was seized by another thought. “The eggs!” I cried. “They’re in the cabin! I’ve gotta tell Jay!”

Viggo gave me an alarmed look, but nodded—I was already moving off after the young man. He let me go, heading toward the bow, and I carefully picked my way across the creaking deck, stepping cautiously so I wouldn’t slip.

It looked like the tilt had slowed Jay down as well. I looked over just in time to see him grabbing the doorframe, swinging inside the wide-roofed entryway that held a small kitchen and a dining area, and heading down the stairs that led to the cabin below deck. A few slippery moments later, I made it to the stairs and started carefully down—although at this point they were more like obstacles than steps. They heaved and swayed with the ship, tilting so sharply down and to the right that on the third step my feet slipped on the narrow wooden planks and I slid into the right wall.

My right hand automatically shot out to stop my fall, and I cried out as a lance of pain jarred my arm, my eyes clenching shut.

“Jay!” I shouted down, tears of pain stinging my eyes. “Where are you?”

A muffled shout came up through the open doorway to the cabin. “Hang on! I’ve almost got it!”

“You need to get my backpack too! We need those eggs!”

“What?” Jay shouted back to me, and I repeated myself, my voice cracking. This time I was rewarded by hearing him call back, “Okay!”

Scared of slipping again, I stumbled back up the last few steps, leaning against the doorframe and looking toward the bow. The river was already beginning to bubble up toward the railing there, seeping closer to us with every moment. The water had killed whatever fire had lingered, but that wouldn’t matter if the ship went down under us. If we didn’t drown, the river’s toxic water could have long-lasting side effects—they were worse the longer you were exposed and could even result in death. Maybe Tim, who’d fallen into the river at age of eight when I tried to smuggle him into Patrus, had been treated by the Matrian doctors who had also altered his genes and torn away his childhood. But the rest of us wouldn’t have that dubious ‘help’.

My heart lightened just a little to see that on the tilting deck, Viggo had gathered the rest of our party together and they were scrambling up toward me, Owen clutching the bag of weapons, Ms. Dale pulling Alejandro forcibly from the wheel.

“Violet!” Viggo shouted, catching my eye. “We’re getting onto that roof! Do you have the life raft?”

“I’m waiting for Jay!” I called back. I looked back down the hallway and saw something glinting at the base of the stairs, a few steps below the doorway into the cabin—river water. God, it was coming up from below. I opened my mouth to yell when Jay burst from the cabin door, the familiar brightly colored duffel under his arm and my battered bag slung over his shoulder. He charged up the stairs, holding out my bag. “Here!”

As I slung the bag over my left shoulder, Jay thrust the life raft’s duffel into my hands as well, then turned as if to go back down the stairs.

“What are you doing?” I shouted, struggling to hold up the duffel while favoring my injured hand. It was heavier than I’d expected. “There’s water coming up!”

Jay’s voice was pained. He didn’t stop. “Samuel’s down there! He was hiding under the bunk!”

I almost shouted at him to leave the dog behind, but my mouth couldn’t even form the words. The thought of poor Samuel, thinking that hiding under the bed would save him like it always had… If I had been in Jay’s position, I knew I would have done the same thing.

“Hurry!” I yelled down.

A commotion from outside, and a wrenching groan beneath my feet, snapped my attention back to the deck. Viggo was pushing Alejandro up onto the roof of the alcove that sheltered the stairs. I craned my neck and saw that Tim, Owen, and Ms. Dale were already up there, huddled together in the small, flat space.

Alejandro was hauled up by Owen and Ms. Dale, and Viggo came over to me, grabbing the duffel from me and passing it up to Tim’s willing hands above. “Violet,” he said breathlessly, “where’s Jay?”

I pointed down. “He’s getting Samuel—”

Viggo cursed. “The bow is going under, Violet. We all need to be up on that roof in thirty seconds.”

I looked to the right and saw that he was correct—the churning waters of the river lapped at the edge of the railing. Down the stairs, it had risen almost to the level of the cabin door. I listened intently—was that the sound of a dog whining over the churning of the water?