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

shot that boy and got away. We need to—” I stopped as a shadow emerged from the mist behind Ms. Dale, my gun going up and firing a warning shot near it. The shadow shifted and quickly drew away as Ms. Dale whipped around, her gun raised.

For several moments everyone was still, waiting and watching. Then Morgan moved past us, slowly, pushing slightly into the mist. She stood very still for a second, and then turned.

“It’s gone,” she whispered, moving back toward us. “I think you scared it, but it can’t last long. What were you saying?”

It took me a moment to remember what I had been saying. My heart was still pounding, and the adrenaline rush was making my skin tingle with alertness.

“That we need to find Maxen and get him off the playing field.”

“Wrong,” Ms. Dale said, shaking her head. “My first priority is to get to Elena. Let’s stick to the plan.” I rubbed my forehead.

“You’re the primary for this mission,” I said, and she nodded. We’d ranked everyone on the team from primary to tertiary, so in the event we got split up, those who were of the highest rank would take control over the others and lead them on the next part of the mission. It was to ensure that we had a backup plan, and that both of our objectives were achieved. “So this is team ‘stop the queen.’”

Morgan swallowed. “We were all assigned to that mission anyway,” she said, her face rueful, and Ms. Dale smiled wanly.

“What are the odds of that?”

“That we got separated right into our mission group… or that all three Matrian women are going after the queen?” I asked, and she blinked, and then gave a ghost of a smile.

“I didn’t even consider that last part. I was going with the first.”

“Well, my answer is, who cares?” I replied, shouldering my rifle. “We need to get moving. If we can, we need to find a way to get her down here and closer to us, where the playing field is less to her advantage.”

Ms. Dale had opened her mouth to reply—then she seemed to spot something on the wall behind me, and moved toward it instead. The mist billowed and shifted around her as she moved, and I saw a cabinet on the lab wall, filled with several familiar canisters. She pulled them out, five in total, and passed two to me and two to Morgan, taking one for herself.

“Good times,” I said when she handed it to me, unable to stop myself from thinking of the time Ms. Dale had taken me into The Green for training, before I entered Patrus. Ms. Dale smiled wryly.

“Good times, indeed,” she replied. “Let’s move. We don’t have access to Thomas’ map, and this place just got worlds more dangerous.”

I nodded and began walking, keeping a hand against the wall and following it, trying not to jump at the various growls and sounds erupting all around us. Maybe, just maybe, we could get through this one unnoticed and unscathed.

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32

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Viggo

When all hell broke loose and the buzzing started, my first thought was to chase Tim as he ran after Violet, leaping over the Porteque man she’d shot, my legs moving furiously. Then I caught a glimpse of Peter moving through the door on the left, and something took over—a snap decision, an instinct from deep within. All I knew was I couldn’t leave that man running around the caves. He hated Violet, hated me, and he would hurt her to get to me. The thought of him and her ending up in this horrific place together after I’d let him pass by was unbearable.

The mist was dense, but I followed the dark shape of his shadow, my gun still in my hands, my feet pounding on the uneven ground. Without missing a single step, I ejected the magazine and slammed in a new one, continuing my pursuit. I kept his form in my sights through the swirling mist, but always felt one step behind.

Someone’s scream lanced through the cave, and I paused, my ears straining. Sweat had accumulated on my brow. I wiped it off impatiently, my chest heaving. The scream stopped suddenly, and I heard growling and the wet snapping of teeth, but the sound was muted, seemingly coming from somewhere in the distance.

Licking my lips, I looked around, my listening hard for any sound of Peter’s footsteps but finding none. I moved forward. I had been running for at least a minute, maybe closer to two, and I still hadn’t hit the edge of this cavern. It must stretch out widely, and the lighting had changed to the soft blue of ultraviolet light, making the fog glow an eerie green.

I moved forward through the mist and stopped again when I heard a grunt, somewhere off to my left. I took another step forward, and then froze when I saw a dark orange vine cutting across the moss just inches from my left foot. My heart pounded as I slowly withdrew my foot to avoid contact with it, Alejandro’s warnings ringing loudly in my ears. The orange vines were attached to a carnivorous plant, one that used the vines to ensnare prey.

“God, what is this?” somebody muttered, and I immediately recognized Peter’s voice, a rush of cold rage going through me. I stepped over the vine and kept an eye out for any more. The mist swirled and spun as I stepped through it, and I waved a hand in the air, trying to get it to settle. It thinned some, and I could make out someone struggling a few feet away.

I stepped over another vine, keeping a healthy distance from it, and then I saw him. An orange vine was wrapped around his leg, steadily moving up to encircle his torso. The man was bent over, fiddling with his shoe, while the vine was already excreting slime that acted as a digestive juice. Eventually, according to Alejandro, the vine