The Gender Game 2 by Bella Forrest (positive books to read txt) 📗

deeply, I took a second to rip off some fabric from my shirt and tie it around my hands. At the rate I was going, I was going to run out of clothes to wear in a matter of days. It struck me again how hopeless it was to even think about surviving out here—everything tried to kill you.

I grabbed the compass and set my direction so that I would hopefully intersect with Viggo. For a second, I considered heading in another direction, away from him. His reluctance to believe me had really hurt, much deeper than I could have imagined. I knew I had hurt him deeply, but his insistence on taking me back to Patrus was only condemning me to death. At least out here, I had a better chance.

Suddenly, something behind me snapped, and I turned. Something shifted in the shadows under the canopy.

I didn’t hesitate—I just started running. Hurt or not, Viggo had all the weapons and supplies, as well as the egg. I would need those before I could even think about escaping him.

My heart sank into my belly at the thought of leaving him again. I pushed it aside, and focused on running.

I loved running. I used to run all the time when I was younger, before everything had happened. Before Tim had failed the test and Mom had died. I had never felt comfortable confined to the track either. The streets of Matrus were my running grounds.

But running through the forest was hard—there are a thousand things that can slow a person down or trip them. I ducked branches and dodged trees that sprang up in my way. I spun and twisted, flying across the mossy ground, my feet and arms pumping, hair flying.

It was difficult at first, learning how to breathe through the mask, but after a few minutes, I got the hang of it, taking care to exhale out of my mouth, and down away from my visor so as not to fog it.

I could hear something chasing me. It crashed through the undergrowth behind me, but I felt confident that once I got up to speed, I could get away. When I ran full out, I felt like I could fly.

Trees began to whiz by as I ramped up my speed. Trickles of sweat ran down my skin, but I kept my breathing even and measured.

I came over a crest, taking measured steps as I plummeted down. I could still hear whatever it was chasing me, but I didn’t look back. I kept my gaze forward, hoping I was still heading in the correct direction. I was not taking any breaks to check. Once I lost this thing, I would have to focus on finding Viggo.

The mist was growing thick, making it harder to see. I was forced to slow my speed to a trot in order to not plow headfirst into a tree. As I slowed, I became aware of the lack of sound coming from the forest. The hair on my neck stood on end, and I felt, rather than heard, something behind me, nearing me again.

I bolted once more. I caught a glimpse of something coming over the opposite side of the ridge, and I cut toward it, hoping that whatever it was would either be helpful or keep whatever was chasing me distracted while I got away.

Several things happened at once, but at the same time, everything seemed to slow to a stop.

I was aware of something brushing past my hair, causing me to jerk my head to one side.

Then my ankle folded under me as I took a misstep and tripped.

As I began to tumble through the air, I heard the distinct sound of gunfire filling the clearing.

Following that, a line of fire suddenly exploded on my ribcage, making breathing extremely difficult.

Then time caught up with me. I had a glimpse of Viggo’s face as I fell, the ground rushing up to greet me. As I fell, I felt a brief moment of confusion at Viggo’s ability to defy gravity and be upside down, and then I hit the dirt, the pain in my chest intensifying unbearably as I skidded across the mossy ground.

17

Viggo

Violet’s name was on my lips as I squeezed the trigger. Red blood erupted from the woman, arcing in the air and splattering on the ground, but I was already racing to Violet’s still form.

My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. Samuel reached her long before I did, his tail wagging, his tongue licking her fingers. I skidded to a stop, dropping to my knees next to her.

She was lying on her stomach, her face toward me. Her limbs were askew, one leg straight down, the other tucked up, both arms over her head. Her eyes were closed, and I couldn’t tell if she was breathing.

I studied her back, and didn’t see any blood. My mind raced, recounting my training. If she was hit from the front, and there was no blood coming from her back, that meant that the bullet was still lodged inside her. I would have to be very careful in turning her over—I didn’t want to accidentally move the bullet and do more damage.

I reached for a shoulder, and then let go in surprise as Violet’s eyes popped open. “Viggo?” she mumbled, her gaze confused.

“Don’t move,” I said. “You’ve been shot.”

She frowned at me. “No I haven’t,” she said, starting to push herself up.

I placed a hand on her upper shoulders, pushing her gently down, cursing the interaction for fear of the bullet still lodged inside her. “Violet!”

Giving a sharp huff, she craned her neck around. “Viggo, I’m fine,” she insisted, pushing against me.

“Stay down!”

She pushed harder, and then managed to turn on her hip, slipping out from under my hand. She pushed me with both her hands, offsetting my balance. I landed hard on my side, staring at Violet as she stood up, dusting off her pants and her