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

comforting, even after everything that had happened, and I confirmed their transmission, already heading to a nearby vehicle. Tim followed me, his eyes wide.

“You coming?” I asked as I slipped into the driver’s seat and turned over the engine. Tim hesitated, and then shook his head, looking back at where Jay was still lying on the ground, April working on him—her expression grim.

“I stay. Jay needs help. Henrik and Ms. Dale need help. You find Violet—bring home. I help here.”

Pride burst from my chest, and I reached out and gently took the young man’s shoulder. “Take care of them while I’m gone, okay?”

Tim nodded, his dark curls bouncing. “Be careful.”

I waved a hand at him, dismissing the thought. If Violet was heading to The Outlands, then there was no telling what dangers we would come across. After all… nobody who had gone there had ever returned.

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2

Violet

“You know, the next time you want to save my life, could you please avoid getting twenty thousand bullet holes in the process?”

I was back to talking to myself. Solomon was still unconscious, but was also still breathing, no thanks to my considerable efforts. Well, possibly thanks to my considerable efforts, but not if I couldn’t get us back to Matrus in time for him to be saved. I had no idea whether he was bleeding internally, although I had accounted for each bullet’s entrance and exit in my very thorough but nowhere near professional first aid.

“I just wish I could remember if exit holes were good or bad,” I said, completing the thought out loud. I ripped off another long length of electrical tape using my teeth, and then carefully attempted to drape it over the cotton pad I had fixed to his shoulder. Placing it was tricky—with my right hand still in this stupid cast, it was a painstaking labor. I’d already lost several pieces of tape as the wind caught them and made them stick to themselves.

The wind was still screaming through the bay, and I shivered in the heloship’s glacial temperature. My jacket helped me shrug off some of the cold, but my fingers were slowly going numb and my teeth chattered from time to time. Even though the cargo door was now closed, Solomon had definitely destroyed whatever seal there had been before, allowing the wind in.

Carefully, I applied the strip of tape, using the wind to sort of catch the end and keep it from dragging against anything until I had it where I wanted it. I worked quickly—periodically yawning as my body reminded me of how long it had been since I had slept, or even rested—pressing the tape down and then smoothing it over the contours of Solomon’s chest, collarbone, and neck. I slid my cast against the tape as well, trying to create a seal around the white cotton pad, enough to put pressure on the wound, helping the blood to clot and stop the bleeding.

“See, I know what you’re asking me,” I said conversationally to the unconscious man. “Why didn’t I attend Dr. Tierney’s medical training when I had the chance? Well, I didn’t have the chance, thank you very much! I was busy with planning a move, and, well, you know what? It’s a pretty crappy excuse, and honestly… I’m sorry, Solomon. For… For everything.”

Tears welled in my eyes unexpectedly when I got to the apology, and I quieted, trying to quell them, tamping down another piece of tape with shaking hands. I couldn’t cry right now. There was too much to do. I just had to keep doing one thing at a time, as though this were all normal. That was what talking to Solomon had been about—keeping things light, keeping my mind off everything—but maybe it wasn’t helping.

I sniffed hard once and leaned back to examine my work, sighing. It wasn’t pretty, but it would hold. Leaning over the large man, I grabbed two packets out of the first-aid kit, examined their insignia, and then ripped the foil linings open. I had to use my mouth to peel away the plastic tabs on the back, but as soon as I managed it, I affixed one of the blood rejuvenation patches to Solomon’s neck, as close to the carotid artery as I could manage. Then I placed the other on the opposite side.

It would have to do for now. I needed to remember to check on him in thirty minutes and apply another blood patch if his color wasn’t any better, or if it had gotten worse. “I gotta go check on the flight path,” I told him. “And see if I can get the pilot up. If I can’t… Well… Let’s not think about that.”

I stood up, grabbing the pistol and the first-aid box. I had made Solomon the priority, reasoning that the geography east of Matrus was just deep canyons and gullies, supposedly like “up north” beyond The Green, where the boys who had failed the Matrian screening for aggression were sent to labor in the “mines”. All lies.

Below us, there was actually nothing but rocky wasteland. At least I hadn’t been forced to let my friend bleed out while I tried to steer a broken ship around a massive mountain range. However, there were no guarantees how long that would last.

Tucking the pistol into my pants was awkward, but I managed it as I turned and made my way back toward the cockpit. The other guns I had found were secured in the bathroom, on top of a panel that was clearly intended for some sort of ship maintenance. It wasn’t the best hiding place in the world, but it would have to do. The other guard was unconscious and handcuffed to a part of the heloship’s frame—I doubted she would be able to do a very thorough search at the moment.

I looked down at my watch as I passed her, which was good, because it meant my eyes happened to be looking in the right direction to see