The Gender War (The Gender Game #4)(24)

The rest of the party snatched up the abandoned weapons, and then we piled into the men’s truck—I took the wheel, with Violet riding shotgun. I felt exactly zero guilt for stealing equipment from a group of people who dealt in human flesh. I turned us around, then began heading toward civilization the way they had come.

After we’d put enough distance between us and the gang members, I stopped the vehicle again. I jumped out and went around to the back, where I was surprised to see that Owen and Ms. Dale had already gotten out and were waiting for me, holding several pairs of handcuffs. “Looks like they came prepared,” said Ms. Dale, tossing one at me. I caught it and examined the mechanism—I could see that she had already modified it by sticking a thin piece of metal in the lock.

“Will these work?” I asked, slipping one around my wrist. It clicked, and I tugged it, but it wouldn’t open until I manipulated the little piece of metal with my thumb. Tim leaned out of the tarp covering the back, and I could see him examining the setup as well.

“It won’t pass a close inspection, but it’ll have to do,” Ms. Dale replied.

I tossed them back to her and nodded. “All right—Jay, Owen, Violet, and Ms. Dale—you are the terrorist cell. Tim, you’re with me.”

Tim nodded and carefully climbed out of the back of the truck. Violet moved past me, to climb into the truck, and I grabbed her, pulling her tight against me. “Once we’re in there, I don’t know what’s going to happen,” I whispered. “I’m… I’m beginning to hate this plan, Violet.”

She gave me a little smile and rose to her tiptoes to kiss me. “We’ll get through it,” she whispered. “I trust you. And… I think it’s a good plan.”

I let her go, watching her climb into the truck and sit down, cramming herself next to Ms. Dale, Jay, and Owen. She slipped into a pair of handcuffs, and I waited to make sure she could open them if she needed to. The rest of the mock terrorists were performing similar tests. Violet wasn’t able to use her damaged hand to unlock the cuffs, but, slowly, painstakingly, she was able to do it with her left.

This was it. I had to trust her. With one last look, I went back to the front of the truck and climbed into the cab. Tim was already there, Samuel by his side.

“Hey, buddy, you going to be okay with this?” I asked, and Tim gave me a flat, gray stare that reminded me of his sister with its sheer stubbornness.

“Don’t like it. But… will do,” he grumbled, and I nodded.

“I promise I won’t let anything happen to your sister,” I said.

“Better not,” replied Tim, turning to stare out the window.

I paused, wondering if the boy realized he was threatening me. And then I realized that he was well within his rights to—she was his sister, after all. He was the only man allowed to be as protective of Violet as I was. I threw the truck into gear and started driving.

It took another five minutes to reach a real road, and from there it was another half-hour before I could see the glowing lights of the checkpoint illuminating the night around them. Our checkpoints were carefully guarded, and I was not surprised to see a contingent of wardens waiting at the station. I was surprised, however, to see my former second-in-command standing with them.

Stepping out of the cab, I held up my hands. “Hey, Mark,” I greeted as I slowly approached. “Long time no see.”

Mark Travers was a good man, and by that I meant he was a good man by Patrian standards. He did his job, never questioned the status quo, and was married.

“Viggo?” he said in disbelief, a smile lighting up his face. “Woah! I thought you were dead! Nobody has seen or heard from you in months!” He stepped forward, his hand extended. It was a good sign—if I were wanted in Patrus, then, long work history or not, he would have drawn a gun on me.

I gave a little shrug as I shook his hand, lowering my other arm. “Yeah, well… I got sent on a mission. They sent me all the way into The Green, if you can believe that.”

Mark gave an appalled look as he eyed me up and down. “And you survived? For how long?”

“I… honestly couldn’t tell you. Over a month.”

Mark whistled, clearly impressed. “That’s seriously amazing, man. I’ve never heard of anyone surviving that long.”

I gave another shrug. “Well… I like being alive, so yeah. Anyway… can you send an encrypted message to the palace? I have someone in the car that the king really wants to meet. Several someones, in fact.”

Mark gestured to one of his men, who ran off to the small outbuilding next to the road, presumably to fulfill my request. “Who’ve you got back there?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Sorry. You aren’t cleared to know. This is all top secret stuff.”

He paused for a moment, but then said, “All right, I can respect that. Can I… Can I take a look?”

He must have noticed my frown deepening, because he held up his hands. “You know I need to at least see what you’re carrying behind that tarp. Things have been kind of crazy since that lab was bombed, and anything could be back there. You’re a good guy, Viggo. I know you’re not lying—I’m just doing my job.”

I nodded, realizing that showing him was unavoidable. “Okay, fair enough.”

I led him to the back of the truck and pulled aside one of the flaps made by a long slit in the tarp. The four people inside glared back, their eyes glinting against his flashlight in slits of absolute hatred. Mark laughed at that, and then looked at me.