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

off,” Thomas replied, shifting his shoulders. “It’s heavy and hot and itchy, and I’d rather not. Besides, I really need to explain the system I created here, so you can use it as effectively as possible in the event I—”

“Knock it off, Thomas,” Owen growled, raking a hand through his blonde hair. “You’re starting to make me nervous.”

“What?” Thomas blinked, his face reflecting his surprise. “No, I just wanted to prepare you on the off chance I—”

“Knock it off, Thomas,” Owen repeated, slightly louder this time, and Thomas sighed.

“All right, Owen. Here, help me get this off.”

“Hurry up, you two,” Viggo said as he bent over and picked up Thomas’ handheld. “How do I search for RF waves again?” he asked.

“Left column, third one down. Sniffer.exe. Just hit it, and the modifications I made to the handheld will be red on the screen. Red blobs indicate where the activity is concentrated.”

Viggo began to move the handheld around as Owen helped Thomas pull off the vest. Thomas zipped his suit up quickly, and bent over to pick up his bags.

“Anything?” he called, and Viggo shook his head.

Thomas moved over, his short legs moving briskly, and plucked the handheld from Viggo’s hands. He adjusted a few buttons on the screen and began swinging it around, whether nervously or just plain impatiently, it was hard to tell. After a moment, he smiled, and nodded.

“Over there,” he said, pointing.

Viggo moved over to it, Thomas and the rest of us behind him. Tim nudged his way over, and I reached out to tousle his hair.

“Do you have the serum Dr. Tierney gave you?” I asked, and he nodded.

“In bag. What now?”

Viggo kicked the ground a few times, finding one place that seemed more disturbed than the rest, and one kick reverberated slightly. Squatting down, he felt around in the dirt, and then pulled back handful after handful of wet grass and earth, until he seemed to find something about half an inch down. He pulled a few more handfuls away, and then dug his fingers into something, and a square bit of earth bounced up half an inch at an angle. He pulled it open, revealing a flat door with a keypad on it.

“We’re going down there,” I told Tim, and he gave me an annoyed look.

“I know. You be okay? You hate tunnels.”

I shrugged. “Not as much as I hate falling,” I replied, and he smiled.

“Maybe you go first,” he said with a wink, and I resisted the urge to push him. Instead I turned toward him and checked his uniform.

“Are you wearing your vest?” I asked, and he nodded. “Have you tested the suit yet?”

Tim hesitated and then nodded again.

“Hurts,” he informed me, and I frowned, a pang of fear going through me. If he couldn’t use it, then that meant he could be exposed and vulnerable in a fight.

I couldn’t think about that now. Viggo had told me about Tim’s abilities in the field. I had to trust that my brother was more than capable of taking care of himself.

“You’ll be okay,” I said quietly, sensing that he needed my reassurance. “Tim Bates—unstoppable ultimate warrior.”

He gave me an incredulous look and shook his head, his gray eyes returning to where Thomas was now hacking into the door, trying to get it open.

“Don’t like fighting,” he said after a minute. “Too much sad people. Too much crying.”

My face fell, and I nodded. “I know, Tim. Believe me, I know.”

Morgan jogged over, finished with hiding the car, and looked around. “How are we doing?” she asked, her eyes moving over to Thomas and Viggo, crouched over the door.

“We’re in,” Thomas announced—whether he had heard Morgan or was just informing the rest of us, I wasn’t sure—and there was a sharp hiss as the door was pulled open. Viggo turned on his flashlight and shone it into the hole below, revealing metal rungs embedded in the rock, the ladder running down a stone tube that was maybe three feet wide.

I swallowed as I looked at it, and then put the fear aside, reminding myself that it was better than falling. It was strange, but the thought comforted me. Viggo swung in first and began moving down the ladder, seemingly unbothered.

“You don’t think we’ll encounter anyone coming up?” asked Amber, and Morgan shrugged.

“I doubt it. The entrances to the caves were sealed up by my mother. I wasn’t even sure where all the doors were.”

“Neither was the spy who got the plans,” said Thomas as he slipped his backpack on, his trusty handheld secured around his wrist by a tight black cloth with a bit of fabric cut away in the middle, revealing the screen. “The map only shows the tunnel systems and which doors lead to the palace. Where each door opens in the palace is a complete mystery. Subvocalizers on.”

He began moving down the tunnel as he spoke, following his own order and switching to transmit his voice into our ears for the last of the sentence. I followed suit and watched, my heartbeat rising in tempo, as Logan entered, followed by Amber and Ms. Dale—then, finally, I was up, taking a step onto a lower rung and holding the sides of the passage until I was far enough down to grab one with my hands. Tim and Morgan followed me, and I bit my lip when Morgan closed the heavy door above us, cutting off even the starlight.

There was a bit of light coming up to me from below, probably Viggo’s flashlight, but the tunnel was still so dark. Dark and tight. I paused, taking a moment to grab my own flashlight, turn it on, and slip it into my mouth.

We descended in absolute silence, but our movements and steps in the tunnel generated enough of an echo to worry me. At one point Tim stepped on my hand, and I cried out—my voice was silenced by the subvocalizers, but transmitted to everyone else. I heard my own hiss of pain distorting over