The Gender Lie (The Gender Game #3) Read online

  After a few seconds, the light over the door flashed from red to green, and Solomon opened the door. Immediately, the sweltering heat from The Green filled the room, as did a little of the ever-present mist.

  As we stepped outside into the toxic atmosphere, Solomon closed the door behind us. Owen consulted with his handheld before pointing out the direction. We began walking. Owen took point and Quinn the rear, and I was sandwiched between Amber and Solomon.

  For the most part, we were quiet. It made sense—the dangers of The Green required caution at all times. I would never forget my own time here, and I reflected on how this felt different. For one thing, I had been completely alone at the start of my journey through The Green, and for another, I had been completely unprepared for it given that I had crash-landed here.

  Now I felt confident, like I knew what I was doing, and I trusted Owen—and by default, the others—enough to know that they’d watch my back, just like I would watch theirs.

  We moved slowly through the foliage. A few times Owen had signaled for us stop by bringing up a fist. Immediately, weapons were drawn. Solomon pulled out a stick that was strapped along his thigh—he clicked a button, and the stick morphed into that of a broad axe, the massive head resembling a half-moon.

  Quinn and Amber had similar weapons—Quinn’s stick morphed into a spear that stood almost a foot taller than him, and Amber had a pair of short swords. Owen’s was short and fit in his palms, forming over his fisted knuckles into punch blades with four blades instead of two. While I simply had a gun.

  Periodically, Owen would make us go invisible to avoid detection from the wildlife. For the most part though, we just walked.

  We traveled for hours, the sun marching along with us in the morning, and then past us in the evening. Not that we got much sunlight in The Green—the canopy was too thick to let any light through, save a few rays that managed to push past the dense thicket of leaves.

  Toward the evening, Owen had us spread out, and we began searching in a straight line, looking for prospective camping sites. It was ultimately Owen who found the perfect place against a massive boulder covered in green and brown moss. We sprayed it down—luckily no centipedes emerged from beneath—and fixed a simple roof using some of the polymorphic blankets we had brought.

  Amber set up a light, and we all sat and ate in silence.

  It was Quinn who broke it first. “Violet?”

  I turned my head at his questioning tone, my hand on my mask, preparing to remove it to take another bite of my protein gel. “Yeah?”

  Quinn leaned forward. “What happened to you when you were out here?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Quinn looked over at Amber, who looked at Solomon. There was a long pause before Solomon began speaking. “We heard you survived out here on your own for several days, with no suit,” he said, his dark eyes glittering with questions.

  “But… people do that all the time, don’t they?”

  The group collectively shook their heads. “No—because of our suits, we rarely encounter anything out here,” said Amber, an almost wistful quality to her voice.

  I frowned at her. “Then that’s a good thing. Because it was not easy, and I almost died.”

  3

  Violet

  Amber scooted forward a few inches, her face reflecting her excitement and anticipation behind the plastic faceplate of her mask. I looked around at everyone, who bore similar expressions.

  Letting out a breath, I set my gel down, crossed my legs and began to explain. “I crashed into the forest thanks to a flying motorcycle, and when I landed, I wasn’t wearing a mask—I was hanging in a tree. I managed to get to the motorcycle before it plummeted to the ground and I put my mask on. Then, I heard some red flies. I leapt into a hiding place before they could get me, but I got bitten by a black centipede. I didn’t have medication, so I was trying to make my way to Matrus before I died, but I passed out. Viggo… well… he found me, patched me up, and then arrested me for what happened in Patrus.

  “Anyway, one thing led to another, Owen grabbed me—although I didn’t know it was him at the time—we found Ms. Dale, ran from some more red flies, and then stumbled upon the facility. It was a hellish nightmare, and frankly, I really kind of hate this place.”

  I picked up my tin from where I had set it, determined to start eating again.

  “Wow… that’s intense,” Quinn said, his voice holding a note of admiration. “You’ve really been through it, huh?”

  The others’ faces reflected Quinn’s admiration, in a way that made me uncomfortable.

  “No more than anyone else,” I muttered.

  “That’s not true,” Amber said, her voice burning with vehemence. “You’ve done more to hurt Matrus than we could ever dream of!”

  I hunched my shoulders. “If you’re talking about the twins… it’s not as simple as it sounds. I… I wish…”

  I honestly wish that we hadn’t been forced to kill them, was what I wanted to say, but the words stuck in my throat. It had been in self-defense, but their deaths weighed heavily on my conscience regardless, even after one of the twins shot Viggo. She had done it to save her sister, and I had killed her to save him. It was a war of attrition, one that promised to never end.

  Owen quickly came to my rescue. “Violet did what she had to in order to survive, and if you had any idea what that was like, you wouldn’t push her for details or praise her. She’s just like us—she wants to take care of the people she cares about.”

  I shot Owen an appreciative glance and he winked.

  “Believe me,” I said, lowering my voice so that they would pay closer attention. “I would not wish what I have been through on my worst enemy.”

  “Not even the queen?” whispered Quinn, his eyes wide, and I was momentarily struck by how young he was—older than my brother, but not by much.

  I shook my head. “Not even her,” I said.

  Amber watched me, her eyes flickering. “No offense, but I think that’s really dumb.”

  “Why would you say that?” cut in Solomon.

  Amber tossed a glance at him and then frowned. “The queen is the reason we’re doing this. She took those boys from their mothers and family and subjected them to that awful place.” She shuddered. “What she has done is no different than my father using me for his benefit.”

  “Well, to be fair, it was Queen Rina,” Owen said, standing up. “Queen Elena might be a nicer person—we don’t actually know.”

  Quinn scoffed and banged his empty tin down on the ground. “They’re all the same,” he said. “I mean… aren’t they trying to frame Violet for something she didn’t do?”

  I leaned back, my eyebrows climbing to my forehead. “There aren’t many secrets in this group, huh?”

  Amber rolled over on one side, propping her head up with one hand. “Not many, though we didn’t know what happened while you were in The Green alone. I don’t even think Desmond knows actually… and she knows everything.”

  I nodded. “Right, well, yes, blaming me doesn’t speak too kindly of Queen Elena. Not to mention she left the boys in the facility, presumably to cover up what her mother was up to. Except…”

  I trailed off, my mind working. The group sat patiently for a few seconds before Owen chimed in.

  “Except what?” he asked, his blue eyes on me.

  “Except… why would Queen Elena? They were close to achieving their goal, right? Even without Mr. Jenks, there was a chance someone could be hired to replicate his work, but they would need access to his original research and test subjects. Why did the queen just abandon the facility instead of destroying it, if her goal was a cover-up?”

  The group exchanged a series of looks. “That’s astute,” Solomon commented after a pause. “And a good point—although I’m sure Desmond’s considered it.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure she has,” I muttered.

  After another span of quiet, Owen stretched out. “All right, enough c
hitchat. We can continue the conversation tomorrow, but for now, we rest. Amber, you’re up on guard duty, followed by Solomon, me, Quinn, and Violet, you’re last.”

  The next morning dawned too soon in my mind. My muscles were sore from the previous day, but I used the two-hour morning shift to stretch them out. Everything was quiet and there was an eerie sense of calm in The Green, but nothing that stood out.

  I woke Owen when it was time, and he helped me wake the others. We quickly ate, packed up camp, and started trudging along again. I had figured out yesterday that we were cutting a clear path toward Veil River, the toxic body of water that served as a natural boundary between Matrus and Patrus.

  I wondered if Owen planned for us to cross there and head directly south afterward. It made sense, but the glaring exception was that there were no bridges, and the river was wide. It was also turbulent, so taking anything smaller than a barge was risky. If we capsized on the river, we might die within minutes of exposure.

  I reminded myself again that I had to trust Owen—this was what it meant to work in a team. He knew what he was doing. After all, the Liberators operated from The Green, which meant they knew how to get in and out of it safely.

  We walked for several hours before Owen stopped us abruptly. Immediately, a flurry of motion exploded from everyone as they began redistributing stuff from their packs and removing their weapons, placing them inside the bags. Curious, I stepped through the trees and gaped at the massive crack in the earth before us.

  The two jagged pieces of earth were at least a hundred paces apart, and the crevice ran deep. The earth was red underneath—a violent, unnatural crimson that looked bloody and raw. The opposite facing wall jutted out at least twenty feet overhead.

  Instinctively, I took a step back before I could look down to see how deeply it ran.

  “We’re not going to climb that, are we?” I asked, my heart leaping into my throat.

  Owen chuckled and shook his head. “No,” he said. “We’re going to climb a tree, and then swing across.”

  A wave of dizziness hit me and I took another step back. “Oh God,” I breathed.

  Owen looked past my shoulder and I whirled—directly into Solomon’s arms. He scooped me up and slung me over his shoulders almost casually, fitting me over his back like a human backpack. I gripped him tightly, my muscles tensed in preparation to leap off of him, when he started climbing.

  I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing as a wave of panic slammed into me. I could hear the others grunting as they climbed, and a small whimper escaped my throat.

  “It’s okay, Violet,” Solomon whispered, low enough so only I could hear. “It will be over in about forty-five seconds. Count for me.”

  I considered ignoring his request, but it seemed reasonable, all things considered. I started counting, focusing on the numbers.

  At twenty, I clenched him tighter as the wind began to whistle past my ears. Amber shouted in joy and exhilaration, and in that moment, I envied her ability to enjoy heights.

  I felt the impact as we hit the ground just as I reached thirty-seven seconds and opened my eyes to make sure we had landed.

  I leapt off Solomon’s back and moved a few more feet away, putting as much distance as I could between myself and the cliff face. We had made it to the other side effortlessly, but I was not exactly okay with how.

  “I hate you,” I said to Owen, who laughed.

  The others laughed too, but it didn’t feel like they were laughing at me. Quinn and Amber patted me on the shoulder, and Solomon shot me a grin. I crossed my arms and glared, but the truth was, it was nice having a team to work with. They made up for my shortcomings, namely the intense fear of heights I had developed recently, and I was truly enjoying being around them.

  It had been so long since I had worked with a group of individuals like this that it actually felt like I had friends. It was a nice feeling after being on the run and in prison for so long—yet I knew I had to keep my eyes on the goal.

  Viggo was my only reason for being out here with them.

  The group quickly reorganized their packs, pulling out their handheld weapons. I kept a look out, as I was the only one with a weapon available, until they were ready. Once they were, Owen took point again and led us deeper into the trees.

  About an hour later, I became aware of the sound of the river. Perking up, I went on my tiptoes to see if I could catch a glimpse of it. I was excited to see what Owen had in store.

  We broke through another copse of trees and suddenly, the river was there. We lined up next to it, and I stared at the massive body of water churning in front of us. The water was an unnaturally brilliant blue—a hue so deep and bright that it almost matched Owen’s eyes. Like the earth of the cliff face that we had swung over, the shade looked artificial, and vibrantly different than further downriver by Matrus. There, it was a deep brown, almost muddy.

  “It looks so different,” I said.

  “That’s because it’s ten times as potent here,” Owen replied. “It becomes more diluted as it moves downstream.”

  “What really makes it so toxic here?” I asked.

  “The Green,” replied Amber, moving closer. “Whatever is in The Green gets flushed into the river and is carried downstream for miles and miles.”

  I nodded, absorbing the information. “So, what if one of us falls in?”

  “Don’t,” replied Owen, pulling a lantern out of his bag. He clicked a button and a red light began to shine from it. He slid the lantern’s hoop over a tree branch and then leaned against the connecting tree trunk, his arms crossed.

  I watched him curiously. “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Ordering a taxi,” he replied blithely.

  Just then, a shout came from the water. I turned, my hand sliding to my gun. Owen placed his hand over mine and shook his head. “Don’t shoot our ride, Violet.”

  I relaxed my hand and he let go. I narrowed my eyes, gazing out at the river. The mist over the water hung thick and glowed a slight blue, illuminated by the liquid flowing beneath it. I watched the mist as it roiled and writhed, when suddenly the bow of a ship slipped out of it.

  The ship wasn’t big—maybe thirty to forty feet long—and there was one lone man standing at the helm, his white hair sticking out from under a cap which was precariously perched on his head. Owen held up a hand in greeting, and the man raised one in return.

  Quinn waved an arm and gave a small yell as the ship drifted closer, cutting a path through the churning water. The man on the boat was swinging something over his head, and I had just begun to realize it was a rope when he released it, angling it toward Quinn. Quinn caught it and quickly tied it to the tree next to him, wrapping it around the trunk. Amber was in the process of catching the other line, about twenty feet upstream from Quinn. She too, tied the rope to a tree.

  The water behind the engine churned as the man on the boat revved the engine, bringing the vessel closer to the bank.

  “Violet, why don’t you come on board—I’ll introduce you to Alejandro,” Owen chirped.

  Dazed at the coordination and planning—as well as a large boat appearing in The Green—I followed Owen down to the shore, eager to meet the man crazy enough to travel so far up Veil River.

  4

  Violet

  The boat churned downriver at a frightful pace, but nobody seemed concerned about the speed we were moving at, especially not Alejandro, the elderly man who owned and piloted the boat.

  We had been cruising for several hours, and Owen had said that it would take many hours more to reach our extraction point. I had spent more than a few of those hours repacking my bag, but after a while, boredom set in, and I found myself wanting to talk to Alejandro.

  Before we boarded the boat, Owen had pulled me aside and told me that Alejandro was not a part of the cause, so we had to be cautious about what we said to him. As far as Alejandro knew, the five of us were a research team, collecting specimens for study.

/>   Now that we were on the boat, I found that I liked Alejandro. The rest of the group seemed perfectly content to ignore him, but I was fascinated by the old man. For one thing, he loved to talk—his voice constantly filled the air. Whether it was a narration of what he was doing or holding one-sided conversations with us, he was constantly chatting.

  For another thing, there was a fierce intelligence burning behind his eyes. Maybe the others picked up on it as well, but I could tell that he knew we weren’t what we said we were. However, he didn’t say anything to the contrary, he just continued talking and watching, all while he navigated the boat through the bubbling waters.

  I looked over to where the group was sitting, toward the bow of the ship, and realized Amber and Quinn were asleep. Owen and Solomon had their heads bent toward each other and were whispering. A part of me wanted to go over and interject myself in the conversation.

  Owen’s tight-lipped attitude toward the mission was still a bone of contention with me. I didn’t like being left out of the loop when it came to missions, but then again, it wasn’t a surprise. Lee had left a lot of details out of his plan to bomb the lab and retrieve the egg. However, he had told me the plan in general, with several glaring exceptions. I understood the need for operational security, but not at the expense of leaving everyone blind.

  I also wondered how much Amber, Quinn, and Solomon knew compared to me. This was Amber and Quinn’s first mission, but they had done far more training with Owen and Solomon than I had.

  In all likelihood, this wasn’t the first time Owen had infiltrated Patrus, and he probably used Alejandro to help move his team up and down the river all the time.

  The boat dipped sharply, breaking my train of thought, and I grabbed the edge of the boat to steady myself. Quinn and Amber jerked awake and grabbed the bench they were sleeping on, while Solomon and Owen simultaneously gripped each other’s forearms and turned their heads toward the stern of the boat.