The Gender War (The Gender Game #4) by Bella Forrest (the beginning after the end read novel .TXT) 📕

Jay’s back in a cheery parody of the king’s earlier attack, his legs around Jay’s waist and one arm around his neck, the other hand holding a pistol.

“We’re going to get that handheld! Meet you at Father’s Park!” Quinn shouted to Owen as Jay put his foot on the tailgate and grabbed one of the metal frame’s supports. Then, ducking so as to not hit Quinn’s head on the frame, he pushed through the remains of the tarp and leapt from the back of the truck.

They seemed suspended in the air for a moment, and my eyes bulged as I watched Quinn grinning and firing his pistol down at the oncoming wardens’ trucks as they flew over. Everybody in the truck seemed just as stunned as me when Jay managed to grab onto a ladder hanging from a nearby building, his body slamming hard on the brick wall.

As our vehicle hurtled away, I barely had a chance to see the two scramble up the ladder—apparently Jay’s grip had held. Ms. Dale and I exchanged looks. “What did he say?” she asked, aiming for the passenger’s side window and missing.

I ran it through in my head, keeping myself low. “Father’s Park?” I was suddenly doubtful. “Is that some kind of code name?”

Amber came up beside me, fired a few more rounds, and gave a cheer when one of them struck the driver’s hand—which he’d stuck out the window to fire at us. The lead vehicle swerved wildly into the car just behind it, the two of them spinning out and crashing hard into the corner of a building, tires screaming and smoke billowing.

“No, it’s just an old city park,” Henrik called back to us, overhearing the conversation. “We were using it as a landmark for where we stashed our things. I recognize this area now that we’re out of that blasted tunnel. It’s maybe ten minutes away.”

I considered this for a moment while bullets continued to ring out around us. Then I nodded, hoping the boys could pull off this crazy stunt. “We’re going to have to get this vehicle off of us, and hope that we can avoid their backups for long enough.”

“Wait… I thought I saw…” Ms. Dale shuffled to the back of the truck and began pawing through several weapons left by the Porteque gang members. “I knew it!” She came back hefting a huge gun that could be only described as an assault rifle. “Those Patrian scumbags had a .50 caliber.”

“Looks like those ‘Patrian scumbags’,” Henrik muttered from behind her, “are saving our skins right now.”

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