The Gender War (The Gender Game #4)(34)

I’d never had the opportunity to see Ms. Dale flush while holding an enormous gun, but she carried it off well, her lips only twitching slightly as she swung into position. The rest of us scooted back as she knelt at the tailgate, waiting for her moment. The guards drifted closer, firing at us; Ms. Dale waited until they were almost on our tail before unloading the gun’s clip into the hood of the truck following us.

In the confined space of the truck, the sound of the huge rifle’s fire was deafening. At first nothing seemed to happen. But then, with my ears still plugged, I saw the truck begin to shudder, thick black smoke pouring from the sides and the bullet holes, with growing orange flames shooting from the bottom.

I watched in amazement as the truck came to a squealing halt and the shouting occupants quickly bailed out, moments before the small fire became a large one, burning for several seconds and then exploding hard enough for my hair to be blown back.

I looked at Ms. Dale from the center of the truck, and she gave me a tight smile. “That’s better,” she said, as she quickly ejected the spent magazine. On the other side of the truck, Henrik broke into a smile, his eyes lighting up as he looked at her.

Ms. Dale clearly also noticed the look. I couldn’t help but smile as her cheeks slowly grew red again. I moved toward the back of the cab and poked my head through the window.

“Jay and Quinn took off,” I shouted, and Viggo tore his gaze from the road long enough to give me a concerned look. “They’re going to meet us at Father’s Park,” I added, and he nodded.

“Was that the last of the pursuit?” he asked.

“Yes,” I told him. “There were only three vehicles.” Now we had left the tunnel behind, we were climbing a massive hill, the lights of the city below glittering in the night. Bright stars dotted the sky, but low, wispy clouds obscured most of them. I frowned at the pattern, wondering why it looked familiar.

“I don’t get it,” he said as he took a right turn. “Why aren’t there more of them after us?”

At that moment, far away, a series of massive bangs, like fireworks, rang out across the city. At the wheel, Viggo jumped and scanned the sky. “What the hell was that?”

“Violet!” came Tim’s shout, and I pulled my head back out of the cab, turning to him. His finger was pointed at a portion of the city that bordered the river, and my heart dropped as I saw the flickering orange brightness that meant fire lighting up an otherwise-darkened block. Even from this distance, the flame lit up the columns of smoke that were rising from the area, making them stand out, vibrant orange against the night sky.

“That wasn’t us, was it?” I asked, leaning toward it as though I could get a closer view.

Owen shook his head, concern dawning on his face as well. “I don’t think so. At least… it can’t be the tunnel or the vehicles. Too far away.”

“Quinn, Henrik, and I didn’t plant any bombs,” added Amber, in a tone that implied that maybe they should have.

Now that I looked, there were other sections of the city where no lights showed, as though the power had been taken out for blocks. Other flickering lines of fire were visible on the horizon. And the low, drifting clouds, tinted orange from the light below, drifted like smoke against the sky… I remembered that there had been a similar wispy smoke trail obscuring the stars on the night Lee and I had bombed the laboratory and flown away from Patrus.

I bit my lip, staring at the horizon, fearing to think about what this could mean. “Whatever it is, it’s probably what’s buying us time, as long as we don’t run into it. We’re going to have to deal with it later.”

Nobody argued, but our recent victory over the king’s guards no longer felt like a true escape. We rode in tense silence, broken only periodically by someone pointing out new smoke lines in the sky. A few more blasts rocked the night, some of them near, but most of them far away from us. Near the back of the truck, King Maxen groaned and mumbled in his unconscious state.

Soon enough, Viggo called back that we were nearing the park. I looked around, my nervousness about the city turning into downright fear: how were we going to find Quinn and Jay? What if they hadn’t made it?

We were slowing down, unsure of where to search, when a motorbike pulled up behind us and honked insistently. I would have suspected wardens if I hadn’t immediately recognized the riders—Quinn was driving, and Jay was holding on for dear life. Neither of them wore helmets; and before we could pull to a stop, Quinn said something to Jay, who stood up on the motorbike, grabbed Quinn under the armpits, and leapt into the back of the truck, throwing Quinn over the tailgate and tumbling over it himself.

I stared as the motorbike slid onto its side, coming to a skidding halt, wheels spinning furiously, as we drove away. Then I turned to where the two young men were dusting themselves off, not sure whether I wanted to hit them or throw my arms around them.

“Quinn! Jay! Are you guys okay?”

Jay pushed himself to his knees and looked up at me, a huge grin on his face. Quinn’s expression was pretty much the same. “We did it, Violet!” he said. “We got the handheld!”

I sighed, glad beyond measure that their stunt had ended well. “Why do you have to scare me like that?” I teased them, amused at the guilty look that slid across Quinn’s face for a moment. “I’m glad you made it, guys. Good job.”