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

he flipped over, landing precisely in the gravel between Morgan and Elena. Then he vanished again, before Elena could even stop grabbing at her face to see what had hit her, only to reappear right behind her, landing a high kick to the back of her head.

I raced for the gun, sliding painfully to my knees in my desperation to get to her. Elena had regained her footing and was looking warily around. Her thermal goggles were no longer on her head, and I hoped they’d gotten knocked off in the fighting.

Every instinct in my body was screaming in alarm. I had to kill her—I had to. If I didn’t, she would kill all of us one by one. There was no reasoning with her; her mental state was rapidly deteriorating, and if she killed us, there would be no one stopping her from killing every man—every person—who remained in Patrus.

I raised my hand, bracing it, and took aim, my hand steady and my heart sure—when Tim reappeared again. Once again he was in the air, a kick directed at the queen, but she blurred, and the next thing I knew Tim was flying toward me.

I stood to catch him, but he hit a few feet ahead of me with a thud. I met Elena’s eyes as I raced forward to him, my heart in my throat at how still my brother was. She smirked, and then beat me to him, using her enhanced speed to get there, her enhanced strength to haul him up by the throat, and… after what I had just seen… her enhanced reflexes to dodge the bullet I sent flying at her in a panicked rage.

“Put him down,” I screamed, fear grasping at my heart as my little brother’s legs kicked in midair, a choked sound escaping him.

“Oh, all right then!” Elena smiled, and stepped back toward the side of the building, keeping Tim between us. I shifted, circling to try to draw a bead on her, but every time I did, she would reposition him so that he was between us. Tim frantically clawed at her wrist, trying to break her grip, but I could tell his strength was fading.

“DON’T!” I cried, my heart breaking as she brought him ever closer to the edge. “PLEASE!”

I was begging, and I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t let her kill my brother. I would go crazy.

“Violet, I’m just doing what you asked,” she taunted cruelly. “I’m going to put him down, and then I’m going to rip your throat out and bathe in the blood!”

I squeezed a shot off, going for her foot, desperate to stop her. But I missed, and she flung my brother to one side—right over the edge of the building. I saw him falling and screamed, firing wildly. Elena blurred, dodging the bullets.

The gun was knocked out of my hand with such force that I spun around, my arm aching and throbbing angrily, reminding me that it had been broken until recently, and then what hair I had was yanked sharply in a fist as Elena started to drag me over to the edge.

“Time to join your little brother,” she crooned as she hefted me up by my hair. The pain was agonizing, but not as awful as the look on her face as she gazed at me. “Goodbye, Violet,” she said, her grin turning victorious.

I grabbed her wrist, trying to break her grasp—or hold on, or take her down with me—as she swung me around. Then, suddenly, she stumbled back, and I fell to my feet again, only inches from the edge of the roof. Dazed, my head throbbing, I looked over to see someone on Elena’s back, holding her firmly across the chest and then hauling the surprised woman back to the edge.

Ms. Dale gave me a wan smile—her face pale and covered in blood—and I saw the detonator in her hand as she tipped Elena and herself over the edge.

“Some people deserve to die,” she said, and then they were gone.

I raced over to the edge, needing to stop it, but the force of the explosion that came a moment later drove me back several feet, my hand going up to shield me from the flames. I fell to my knees.

Tim, Thomas, and Ms. Dale were all gone—I had no idea where Viggo was—and our plan with Alyssa was in tatters. Everything welled up in me like a tidal wave of anguish. I began to sob, uncontrolled, unable to see anything, my own gasping, choking breaths the only sound I could hear.

Hands pressed against my back, surprising me, and I jerked back, turning to see… Tim. His hands were scraped up, his throat already ringed with bruises from Elena’s hand, but he was there… alive and whole.

“Tim… how?” I breathed as he sank down beside me.

“Easy. I grab wall. You okay?”

There was a shout on the roof, and I turned to see a flood of wardens racing through the doors like bees swarming from a hive. I had no fight left in me. We had no exit plan. Slowly, wearily, I began raising my hands.

“Ms. Dale…” I said softly.

Then the guards were there, and apparently they weren’t taking any chances. The last thing I saw as they drew near was the butt of a rifle, aiming for my head. Then I saw nothing.

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Violet

I opened my eyes and then immediately closed them, the obnoxious bright white light causing my head to throb. Lifting my hands to block it out, I heard someone say, “She’s awake,” and slowly tried to sit up, in spite of everything.

Letting my face flop into my hands, I winced and pulled my hand away from the tender area on the right side of my head.

“What’s happening?” I asked, trying to peel back my mutinous eyelids.

I finally succeeded, and was greeted by three walls comprised of bars, concrete ceiling, and floor. The awful white light filled the cell from overhead.

“Violet, baby?” I turned toward