The Gender End by Bella Forrest (the giving tree read aloud TXT) 📕

to a complete stop halfway as the boys at the foot of the ramp began to move up it.

As I watched, I realized there were more black-clad figures at the top of the ramp—clearly what had made her pause—and she turned around, warily looking at the oncoming boys.

Tim turned and looked at me, his face apologetic.

“Sorry for hurt. Played part. Had to trick her.”

I turned to him, still baffled by the sudden shift in events. I had expected to be dead by now, but I was alive, watching as the boys Elena had exploited slowly converge on her.

“They’re not going to—”

“No,” Tim said, shaking his head and smiling. “I know. We need alive. More valuable.”

“More legiti—” I stopped, my blood running cold, when I saw Elena reach into her pocket and pull something out. Her hand went to her mouth and back down again. “Wait. Tim, call them ba—”

Then Elena fell to her knees, screaming. She clapped her hands over her ears, her mouth gaping wide, her voice coming out in an agonized screech. There was a ripple of uncertainty in the boys as they watched her scream, and they hesitated, looking around.

“Grab her!” Tim bellowed. I was too focused on Elena to say anything. What had she just done?

Moments later she slumped onto the ramp and began to roll down it, her legs and arms moving limply. The closest boys backed up a few steps as she came to a stop, visibly baffled, and I lost her behind the crowd.

“Get them away!” I told Tim, starting to push through the crowd.

Elena slowly stood, swaying back and forth, her back to me.

The rooftop was silent and still for a long second, and then she turned, her eyes burning hotly as she met my gaze full on.

“Clever Violet,” she said after a long moment, her voice raw from screaming. “You thought to trap me. Don’t you know… I always have a contingency plan.”

One of the boys broke through his confusion and raced for her, but she casually reached her arm across her chest, bringing the back of her hand down on his face. Instead of simply stumbling back, the boy went flying through the air, disappearing over the edge of the rooftop with a scream.

“Run!” I yelled to anyone and everyone, retreating, and Elena advanced, death in her eyes and a sadistic grin playing at her mouth.

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41

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Viggo

The hallway we had found ourselves in ended abruptly at a door, and without waiting, Owen and I pushed through it, knowing we’d reached the door that led to the roof. The cool night air engulfed us, and we found ourselves standing before a narrow set of exposed stairs, winding up one side of the palace. Owen started moving up them, but I grabbed his shoulder and held him back, taking a moment to close the door behind us and break the lock.

We should hurry, he transmitted, but I kept a firm hand on his shoulder.

Careful. I moved up the stairs first. This roof was lower than the one to our left—that one went up three more stories, the two uppermost having rows of windows, but I couldn’t see any sign of danger lurking from above. Most of the windows were darkened, only a few emitting a glow of light into the night. The rest of our roof was wide and low, with ventilation shafts poking up and out of it, as well as massive heating and cooling units that seemed to eat up the open space, creating dozens of barriers and shadows. Just above them, I could make out the dim shape of something jutting up from the far corner beyond.

Are those the antennas? I asked, pointing to the equipment on the far corner of the roof, which looked from here like a tangle of metal silhouettes surrounded by a tall barbed-wire fence.

Yes. We should— He started to move again, but I pulled him back down, and he gave me an incredulous look.

Why are you being so hesitant? he demanded. What are you seeing that I’m not?

Nothing, I replied, shaking my head. But that is critical equipment. Would you leave it unguarded?

He opened his mouth, and then shut it with a snap.

That’s a good point. Amber?

Just at that moment, Amber’s voice came through.

Viggo, there’s some sort of fire below in the labs. The electrical systems are pretty much melting, and we’ve lost many of the cameras. I’m diverting a lot of the guards out of the area—mostly I’m telling them to help evacuate the servants— but things got out of the lab, and—

We let them out, I told her grimly. Just do what you can to help preserve their lives as well as ours. We’ll take care of the communications antennas.

I slid off my backpack and motioned for Owen to do the same.

What supplies do we really need to take down the antennas? I asked.

Semtex, detonators—we won’t need it all unless you want to destroy this part of the palace.

I do not. So…

There was a flash of a smile on Owen’s face as he pulled a tube of the metal-melting chemical from his bag, along with a few more clips of ammunition. I fished a rope out of my own pile and added it to the collection.

Rope? he asked, raising an eyebrow as he picked up the rope and tugged on it. Really?

We’re on a roof with limited access. I want a backup plan. He laughed bitterly through the link, and I frowned at him. What?

It’s just nice to hear you have a plan for once. You know, just when I’ve finally decided, what’s the point? Plans, no plans… everyone dies just the same.

I pulled out my gun and checked the magazine, counting the bullets through the holes on the side.

Owen, stop it. Give me the bag. I’ll go first and you follow behind, in case anyone is lurking out there.

I looked again, studying the long, dark shadows draped across half the roof, searching for any sign of movement in the relative