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

What would Violet say if I let you die?

She would understand.

There was a rattle, indicating that the group of wardens had finally reached the fence, and I handed Owen the detonator as I pulled his back tight to my chest, wrapping my hand around his waist. I wrapped my other arm around the rope and took us over the edge, and then began to rappel down using my makeshift harness to slow us. We were a third of the way down when I heard shouting above, and as I kicked off the side of the building, I ordered—Blow it.

I heard the click right before the explosion, so loud my heart felt it, and an orange-red ball of fire erupted above us with an angry roar. We fell away from it, arcing back toward the building. My feet impacted the side, and I kicked off again, releasing more line so fast that the rope sounded like a zipper. We dropped another thirty feet, landing heavily against the side, my ankles and knees bearing the brunt of Owen’s and my combined weight.

Even though my muscles were burning, I kicked off again as bits of flaming debris began to fall all around us. The rope continued to unravel as I let it out, and then suddenly it was burning through the glove I was wearing, cutting into the flesh of my hand with all the bite of a dull knife. I yanked it away, and then we were in freefall. I wrapped both arms around Owen, my feet around his thighs, knowing when the rope caught us we would jerk, and he might fall.

There was a sharp and sudden tug as the rope ran out, and my shoulders and waist screamed in protest as the rope tried to cut right through them, but I kept a hard grip on Owen.

You’re insane! he shouted as we bounced upward a few feet.

We fell back down, the rope tightening again. Then there was a loud creaking sound from above, and I looked up to see the top of the radio tower wobbling, the rope wobbling with it. There was a sharp, metallic twang, and suddenly gravity was pulling us back down.

We landed hard in the bushes below. For a second, I just lay there—gnarled branches and twigs digging into my flesh—staring uncomprehendingly at the roof dozens of feet above, and the tower jutting off of it at an angle, bobbing up and down a few times before going still.

Owen? I asked, sitting up and then stopping as a wave of intense pain radiating from my shoulder warned me not to move.

Looking down, I saw a broken tree branch jutting through my shoulder, right above my collarbone. As if looking at it suddenly made me feel it, I grated my teeth against the fresh wave of pain that seemed to be exploding all around it, but there was very little blood. A good sign.

Owen, I gasped, looking over to my right. Are you okay?

I’m here, he replied softly. Bushes broke our fall. I’m still… You threw us off of the roof.

I did. Can you—

“NOBODY MOVE!” a female voice bellowed, and I tilted my chin to my chest to see a dozen or so wardens—one of them holding a flame thrower, of all things—standing in a semi-circle around us while fire and smoke wafted up from the rooftop. I lifted my uninjured arm, straining against the pain, flicking off my subvocalizer while I was at it, and put on my most congenial smile.

“We have important information about Queen Elena that shows she’s a war criminal,” I announced very slowly, wincing as the pain in my shoulder continued to grow.

“Tell it to the brig,” one of the women snapped, coming around and hauling Owen up. Then it was my turn, and before I could point out the branch, I was hauled off of it, the branch yanked out. My vision went white as the pain took me over, and I felt myself being dragged away.

Please, I thought to myself, let Violet be okay.

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Violet

Now that Elena was on the rampage, the boys moved—some of them much faster than others, some running away, some attacking, the difference between the ones in masks and the ones not blurring—but I looked away and down, searching for the gun Tim had pulled out of the queen’s hands. I could hear the sounds of fighting, Elena grunting, but I focused on finding the gun, knowing the boys were protecting me, giving me a few extra seconds.

“She fast!” Tim warned from behind me, and I looked up to see several blurs moving across the roof, barely ducking in time as a boy was flung over my head, landing a few feet behind me. Tim raced over to help him, and I continued my search, keeping an eye on the fighting.

“She must’ve taken pills for speed and strength at the same time,” I shouted back, spotting the gun a few feet away and making for it.

I was halfway to it when Elena’s face was suddenly in my vision, just inches away, the smile on her lips growing wide, until her teeth were bared like a snake’s.

“I never imagined I could feel this way,” she said softly, stepping forward, forcing me to step back. “I knew I wanted you dead—but that was practical. Now I want you dead because… I think… I think I hate you. Isn’t that weird?”

She spoke in low, lethal tones, her voice pleasant, and it sent a wave of apprehension through me. Looking over my shoulder, I tried to spot something—anything—that would help me stop her, and I realized some of the boys were down, the others missing. She had torn through them so fast. It was horrifying.

Elena gave me the chance to look, her face softening a touch.

“You are really pretty, aren’t you?” she said, reaching out with a hand, then snatching it back. “I think I hate that too.” Then she giggled and turned away,