The Gender War (The Gender Game #4)(58)

Amber’s eyes clouded over, and her posture stiffened. “I never wanted to stop the war,” she said sharply. “I don’t think anything is going to change unless our nations get taken down and start over from scratch. If people get hurt in the process, they’re no different from the people who are getting hurt and suffering silently in these broken societies right now.”

“Historically speaking,” Thomas chimed in, “Amber is right. Violent government takeover is one of the primary ways that past societies have changed.”

“But that’s the thing!” I said, now unable to keep my passion out of my voice. “Can’t we be better than that? Amber, think of the boys. Desmond is keeping them all hopped up on Benuxupane… They didn’t even get a chance to decide for themselves. We have to give them a future. They’re going to spend their lives being used for somebody else’s cause… like property. Isn’t that what you wanted to fight against, Amber?”

Amber’s face was troubled, but her resolve didn’t weaken. “Leave my life out of this,” she said stonily. “Can’t you just let me make my own decision? I’m not turning you guys in to Desmond. I helped you with the king. Isn’t that enough?”

I bit my lip. “Quinn?” I asked, turning to him. “Are you okay with this?”

Quinn looked down, the excitement that had been on his face when he’d looked at my wound nowhere to be found. “I’m going with Amber,” he said. “The Liberators taught me everything I know. Without them I’d probably be dead by now. And who knows, maybe we can find a way to convince them to do things differently. We could even try to talk to the other guys… maybe…?”

Quinn’s hopeful innocence was almost worse than Amber’s reticence. I felt my shoulders drooping. “You won’t change your minds, then,” I said, my heart heavy.

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Amber said.

“All right. You know that I had to try, right? Well… I hope you can find a safe route, then. The sooner you leave, the sooner you can get out of this mess. Make sure you pack some extra food and ammo—I’m sure we have some to spare. And… don’t leave without saying goodbye, okay? I’ve gotta go find Viggo, but I’ll talk to you later.”

Some of the rigidity seemed to leave Amber’s shoulders the moment I stopped arguing. “Okay…” she said, then trailed off. Maybe my sadness that she was really leaving had surprised her.

“Viggo is out front by the gate,” Thomas informed me.

“Thank you,” I replied, and headed out of the room before things got more awkward.

Outside, I found Owen first. He was staring at the container that housed Solomon, studying it and making careful notes on a pad of paper. He looked up and smiled at me in greeting. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

I shrugged. “Not bad, just down about Amber and Quinn,” I said, coming to a stop behind him. “You trying to figure out how to feed Solomon?”

Owen glanced back to the truck and nodded, grimacing. “Yeah—there’s only one entrance or exit to the thing. I thought… well… if we could cut a hole in the top… But…”

“He could use it to try to escape,” I finished for him, frowning. “That… is not good.”

Owen nodded absentmindedly, his eyes focused on the truck as he continued to consider it. I could sense he was still thinking of how to fix the problem, concentrating so hard that I was pretty sure he had forgotten I was there.

Which was fine with me—I had come out here to find Viggo. Not just because we were slotted to do recon today, but also because… I wanted to thank him for letting me sleep in, when I knew as well as he did that he needed the rest every bit as much as me.

Viggo was standing by the gate, but my view of it was partially blocked by the truck, which he had moved from in front of the side of the gate that still didn’t work. I could hear him giving orders, presumably to whoever was helping him. I walked around the truck and was met with a small surprise to find that it was Tim and Jay.

I watched as Jay grabbed the broken side of the massive black gate in his hands and then slowly pulled it upright, clearly straining, but just as clearly holding his own. The gate was massive—nearly fifteen feet at the top—and heavy. It had taken three of us to lift it the night before, and even then it had been difficult.

I moved closer to stand next to Viggo.

“Good job, Jay,” he said. “All right, Tim—you’re up!”

Tim picked up a piece of wood from a stack next to him, examined it, then placed it flat across the gate, parallel to the ground, using a gap between stones in the wall to hold the board in place. He then proceeded to pound on the end of the board with a hammer, his eyes narrowed in concentration. His face winced slightly as he supported the board with one hand, forcing it deeper into the gap and wedging it in place.

“Wow,” I said. “Whose idea was this?”

Viggo looked at me, his green eyes bright. “Actually, it was Tim’s idea,” he said with a grin. “Of course, he wanted to build a brick wall to hold it up, but I remembered seeing some lumber and I thought it would work better… and be easier to carry. Eventually, we’ll have a grid of boards across the whole gate, and then we’ll be able to brace it up with some larger posts set at a diagonal. Jay’s digging the holes for those next. It still won’t be able to open, but it should hold up against a decent amount of pressure.”