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

to the glass. I needed to know, even if I didn’t want to know.

Water began to pour down from the ceiling, the force of it splashing water everywhere.

Tim’s head lolled under the torrential waterfall in the middle of the room, his hair already wet. The room was filling up fast.

He picked himself up, his movements relaying the state of exhaustion he was in.

I watched as he leapt up and grabbed on to a pipe on the ceiling. He hung there, looking down and waiting. He looked so resigned, like he had been through this thousands of times before.

It bothered me that he never looked out the window. It was like he knew it wouldn’t do any good to try and plead with whoever was on the other side. I could imagine him trying many times, only to be met with blank stares of indifference.

The water was now at his ankles. Tim didn’t panic—he didn’t waste any energy fighting what was happening. He merely hung there, watching the water patiently as it rapidly rose. It reached his neck in a minute. I watched him expel a long breath and then suck in a lungful of air just before the water reached the ceiling.

He didn’t move after that. His eyes were closed, his black hair floating all around his face. I watched a timer click on, counting up from zero.

I held my breath as I watched the numbers climb. First a minute, then two. At two and half, my nervousness increased. How long was this going to last?

When it hit three and a half minutes, I began to pound on the glass, determined to break it. “Help me,” I said to Ms. Dale.

She looked up at me from the wires, her face reflecting her own frustration. “I can’t,” she said, helplessly.

“He’s dying!”

She stood up and placed a hand on my shoulder. “He won’t die,” she insisted. “There will be safe guards to prevent it.”

I jerked out of her grasp, tears dripping down my cheeks. “You don’t know that.”

Ms. Dale nodded, her face melting back into the impassive mask. “Yes, I do. Whatever they were doing down here, they wouldn’t let him die so easily. Test subjects aren’t that easily replaced.”

I flinched at the harshness of her words, but in a strange way, they comforted me. She was right, but it didn’t make what was happening okay. My gaze flicked over to Tim and the timer, holding my breath as the numbers climbed up to the four-minute mark.

At four minutes, I saw Tim open his eyes. He slowly pushed air from his lungs, little bubbles running past his face.

He seemed so calm. I, however, started screaming, tears running down my face as I began beating against the window in earnest. Ms. Dale tried to hold me back, but I shrugged her off, my hand fumbling for the gun in my pants.

A bio-monitor came online. I watched as his heart beat slowed, and then stopped.

My brother was dead.

“No,” I shouted, pulling the gun free of my pants, and unloading it into the glass.

Ms. Dale’s fists swept up and knocked the gun out of my hands. I stared at her in disbelief.

“How could you?” I hissed, stooping to retrieve the gun.

She took a careful step back, lifting her cuffed hands up, palms out.

“You could compromise the cube, Violet, which might make it disconnect from the beam above.”

I glanced up at the beam, anger writhing in my stomach. I opened my mouth, intent on shouting that it didn’t matter, when there was a whirring sound coming from the box. I turned, and watched as the water immediately drained from the room. Tim’s body landed heavily on the floor, his eyes wide and vacant. My hands were shaking as I covered my mouth.

There was a zapping sound, and Tim’s body gave a little jerk. Then, he blinked. Immediately, he began expelling the water from his lungs onto the floor, sucking in deep breaths of air.

That was enough for me. I staggered back a few steps and vomited, bracing myself on the handrail.

I was disgusted beyond rational thought. And I wasn’t letting Ms. Dale pull any more wires. I was going to rip that cube apart rather than subject my brother through one more of those hideous test.

Looking over at the wires, I felt the white hot rage from earlier filling me. Before Ms. Dale could stop me, I reached over and grabbed a handful of the wires and yanked, pulling as many of them out as I could.

Sparks flew and I jumped back. The key pad went dark, and there was a humming sound coming from the box. Heart in my throat, I looked up to make sure Tim was okay, and I noticed more words flashing on the screen.

System malfunction—Test Subject 55 B in danger from faulty equipment—Initiate relocation protocol? Y/N?

My eyes grew wide. Whatever I had done had triggered something, but the panel was broken. How was I going to initiate the relocation protocol?

Ms. Dale came up from behind me and reached out to touch the ‘Y’ button on the screen. It went green under her finger, and there was a hissing sound.

I took a step back, and watched, wide-eyed, as the glass pane got sucked up into the concrete. There was a grating sound, of stone on stone, and a small gap appeared just under the window, creating a narrow door.

Without hesitating, I stepped through.

“Tim?” I gasped, looking at where my brother was still laying on the floor, water still streaming off him.

He didn’t react, not even a flicker of movement from his eyes or body.

I bit my lower lip and moved closer to him. “Timothy? It’s me. It’s Violet.”

Nothing. Licking my lips, I settled myself on the floor in front of him. “I’m your sister. We’ve been apart for a long time, but I’m here now.”

Still nothing. I fought the urge to cry, but tears still slipped from my eyes as I looked down at my brother.

“It’s my fault you’re here,” I whispered.