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

Leaning back in the seat, I looked at the controls. I was going to have to learn how to fly this thing at some point. Now was as good a time as any to start.

I knew the right throttle controlled the speed—I’d twisted it already during my escape. What I didn’t know was how to make it soar higher or lower, or how to steer it.

Rubbing my fingers together, I eyed the console. There were several buttons there, none labeled. The last time I’d triggered an unknown control, the boxes that were fixed in front of and behind the aircraft had flapped open to release four corpses. Hopefully this time when I touched something it wouldn’t be as dramatic.

Nervously, I ran my fingers over the console and pressed the top button. The headlight and dashboard went dark under my hand, causing my breath to hitch. I feared for a second I might have just deactivated the entire aircraft, but no—only the lights. My fingers found the button again and I pressed it, reactivating the bulbs.

I looked tentatively at the next button and clicked it. Nothing seemed to happen. Frowning, I shifted slightly in my seat and held the handlebars. They felt… looser in my hands. Before, when I had slowed it down, they were tight and rigid: the front end not seeming to swing in any one direction. Experimenting, I angled the wheel to the right.

I heard something grind beneath me, and then the aircraft shifted slightly, heading to the left. I jerked it straight, and then angled the wheel to the left. The aircraft shifted right. Looking over my shoulder, I could see a fin extending from the rear of the craft. It looked similar to a rudder on a boat, except instead of going left when the wheel went left, it did the opposite.

Weird. And also unimportant. What was important was that I could finally steer this thing, as long I remembered to turn the wheel in the opposite direction of where I wanted to go. I allowed the aircraft to continue circling left at a slow lazy pace, circling the way I had come. Periodically, I readjusted the circle, allowing it and the wind to carry me a little further back, my eyes searching for that flash of white again.

It was eerie how quiet it was up here. I stared at the canopy below, knowing it was teeming with life. Yet up here, nothing moved.

The Green was toxic. Just like the river that flowed out of it—polluted and dangerous, anyone exposed for too long could suffer serious lesions that resulted in death. It drew my mind back to my brother, when he had fallen in the water on that fateful day I had tried, and failed, to smuggle him into Patrus. I had no way of knowing for sure if he had survived the water, but I still held hope that he was all right.

Lies, lies, lies, my mind whispered to me. It flashed to one of the pictures that sat in the backpack below my seat. Of the words Lee had carved into the windscreen of King Maxen’s gold sedan before the bomb. FOR THE MEN YOU WILL DECEIVE. I scowled. It wasn’t just men who were being deceived. Matrus was clearly doing the same thing with their citizens. Two civilizations were being lied to. I had been used, betrayed, and almost killed over this egg. I wanted the truth. I deserved the truth.

But I had no idea how to find it, short of returning to Matrus or Patrus. Besides, my priority was my brother now.

I looked at my compass, watching the needle swing as I circled the motorcycle in the sky.

Maybe I had imagined the flash of white. Or perhaps it was a reflection of something… maybe a body of water reflecting the moonlight.

I needed to stop looking for things that weren’t there, and focus on what was. I was wasting time. But as I straightened the wheel, fixing it to the north in hope of discovering some clue about my brother, the strange flash of white caught my attention again.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I tilted the aircraft and steered toward it.

The dark canopy whizzed by underneath the carriage. I was too high for it to hit, but it was a bit disconcerting. I saw the white more clearly now as it flashed again, but I couldn’t make out what it was from this distance…

A gust of wind swept up from nowhere, causing the aircraft to shake. My heart in my throat, I gripped the handlebars and adjusted my course, keeping my feet firmly planted on the floor beneath me.

The propellers groaned as the wind continued to assault the motorcycle. For a second, I rose several feet, only to drop down again, the propellers catching the air. Adrenaline flooded my body, my heart pounding in fear. My knuckles had become white from the strain of holding on.

Again the wind buffeted the aircraft, forcing it to rise and drop. I started to angle to one side, the wind pushing me and the aircraft further. My instinct was to turn into the wind—I tilted the tire sharply, and began to bank into it. It howled in my ears as I turned, shifting my hips and body. Beneath me, the motorcycle gave a deep shudder.

I kept turning hard until the wind was at my back again, and I was soaring. The ride instantly smoothed, and I exhaled a breath. It took a concentrated effort, but I relaxed my body, starting with my hands and ending with my feet.

Then something under my left foot clicked. I froze. Gears churned in the motorbike and I looked around for a long moment, my eyes wide. For several long seconds, nothing seemed to happen. I was on the verge of relaxing again, when the aircraft canopy above me snapped closed around me.

For a second, I was suspended