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

blue tones with highlights of white. That was what allowed me to see the palace through the buildings as we flew down the road. Lights were on, giving it a warm and approachable feeling, but I knew what lurked inside. That mad chase through the city had only been practice. This was where everything got really dangerous.

Viggo drifted right as the road forked, and the buildings went away as we moved down a slight incline, suddenly surrounded by trees and vegetation. The road rolled underneath us in a slow S curve, then leaned slightly more to the right, until it ended rather suddenly at the edge of a wide meadow.

Morgan, Amber, Logan, and Tim were already there, unloading their car. We pulled up next to them, and Viggo shut the car off and climbed out. The rest of us followed suit, and Owen and I moved around to the back to start pulling our gear out. Who knew how long we had to get ready before they found us? We worked quickly.

One by one we stripped down to our Liberator suits, moving silently. Our bulletproof vests would be worn underneath them tonight so that they wouldn’t show when we used the cloaking function, but there was nothing we could do about our bags or guns, other than put them down or try to stand behind something, using that to hide what we were carrying.

Viggo was busy as we got ready—he and Thomas were setting up a transmitter and pointing it toward Patrus, trying to boost our subvocalizer transmission so we could check in and update Henrik. I grabbed my husband’s (my husband’s!) gear and moved over, intent on getting him in it as he transmitted.

He nodded at me as I approached and then sat down, allowing me to unzip the top of his suit and maneuver the vest over his head, making sure the straps were well on. It was a clunky move and added time to our stop here, but we hadn’t been able to make up a plausible excuse to tell the Matrian guards why our prisoners needed bulletproof vests, so we’d had to go without protection during the earlier part of the plan. This part relied much more on stealth—if we got caught, there was no feigning innocence or talking our way out of it, and we would be needing these vests. I noticed that Morgan had already dispensed with her wig, complaining that her head itched.

“It’s ready, Viggo,” Thomas said. His subvocalizer was off, I assumed so as not to get in the way of Viggo’s transmission.

Viggo nodded. Patience, this is Harbinger, come back.

I squinted at Thomas, mouthing the word “harbinger” at him, and he shrugged. “Good names fill people with confidence,” he mumbled, and I smiled.

This is Patience, Henrik replied. Listen, there’s no time to talk. I don’t know where you are with Silver Fox—I looked at Thomas, and he mouthed Alyssa’s name at me—but we got problems here. More boys have been spotted on roads leading into the city. We’ve fortified our stronghold and ordered people to draw back to defend it, but it’s only going to be so long before someone starts firing.

We’re moving on to the second protocol, but they know we’re here. They’re expecting us, Viggo replied.

Then I hope you give them hell, Harbinger. And get us out of this before we have to start killing these boys.

Roger that.

Viggo nodded at Thomas, and Thomas shut off the long-distance transmitter, moving swiftly to break it back down. I heard one of the vehicles start and looked over in time to see Ms. Dale driving it toward some trees growing in a tight cluster, followed by Morgan starting hers up as well. The only thing left inside was Desmond’s body, and if we died inside the palace, it could be a few days before anyone found the vehicles. We wanted to make sure of that, at least.

I shuddered and stepped back as Viggo pulled up the sleeves of his suit and zipped it up. He smoothed his hands over it, and I handed him his bag.

“That should be everything,” I said, turning off the subvocalizer for now. If only for this moment, I wanted to hear my husband’s voice responding to mine. “You have ten pounds of semtex with detonators, a mask in case there’s any tear gas, a knife, the tranquilizer gun with five darts for Elena or any boys you encounter, waterproof bags—” He let out a surprised laugh, and I shot him a look as I continued, “The special canteens that pull water out of the air, some rations, extra magazines… Have I forgotten anything?”

He bent over and placed a kiss on the top of my head. “Of course not. Best wife ever,” he said in a low voice in my ear, and my stomach dropped a little, my body growing warm with desire and anticipation. I somehow managed to take a slow breath and push the feeling down—now was not the time for me to be lusting over my husband. Even if he did look amazing in his Liberator suit and tactical gear, with his long hair gathered behind his neck and the spectacles still perched on his nose.

He moved over toward where Owen was now helping Thomas get his gear on, and I trailed after him, bending over to scoop up my own bag and weapon.

“I really want to tell you about the notebook and stuff I brought, Owen,” Thomas was saying as we walked up. Owen was focused on trying to cinch him into his bulletproof vest. Unfortunately, I could immediately see what the problem was: Thomas’ belly was a bit too rotund for the strap to slip through and then double back to cinch down on the other side.

“Suck it in, Thomas,” Owen grated, tugging hard at the strap, and Thomas yelped in pain. Owen made a frustrated noise and let go of the strap. “This isn’t going to work,” he announced.

“Then let me leave it