The Gender Game 5 by Bella Forrest (top 5 books to read .TXT) 📗

He was standing, staring out at the screen, his eyes drinking in the images. “All those images of Tabitha… they’re from the video Violet made?” He turned, looking at me, and I nodded. His mouth flattened, his grip on his pistol tightening. “Right. Let’s go.”

Towing Cruz behind me with a firm grip under his arm, I followed Cad to the door. He pulled it open for me, and I cleared it out of habit before stepping out into the dimly lit hallway—apparently it was only dark inside the actual stadium. The security checkpoint nearest us was still eerily empty, although there was an ominous buzzing coming from a left-behind handheld, no doubt someone frantically trying to get a hold of the guards.

Ms. Dale and Amber were waiting, waving me forward. Jeff stood on the opposite side of the hall, his handgun sighted down it. I pulled Cruz farther into the hall, glancing back over my shoulder just in time to see Amber and Cad following us. When the room’s door was closed, Ms. Dale stepped forward, slamming the butt of her gun into the black security clearance lock until it popped off the wall. Then she grabbed the box, jerking it away from the wires with an electric pop.

“That’ll slow ‘em down,” she said with a satisfied little smirk, tucking the box into her pocket. She looked over at where Cruz stood, still stunned, but now staring at her as though he’d never seen a woman in his life.

“Mr. Cruz?” I asked, disabling the subvocalizer. A part of me wanted to take a moment to bask in his shock, but we didn’t have time.

“Y-Yes?”

“Here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going to walk us out with our armed escort here.” I pointed to Ms. Dale and Amber. “If we run into security, you’ll do your best to convince them we are running behind schedule, hence why we are being escorted out. Once we get to our vehicle, you will be free to go. Do you understand?”

His eyes sought out mine, and I raised an eyebrow at him. He nodded. “I understand.”

I let him go, taking a step back. Popping the collar of my shirt up to try to disguise the subvocalizer, I slid my gun back into the hidden holster and tugged my jacket down, straightening it. Within moments, we were moving back toward the last checkpoint we’d passed. I could no longer hear King Maxen’s voice through the concrete that separated us from the main part of the stadium, but a quick glance at my watch told me it had been playing for over a minute. That left another two minutes before the message repeated. Why hadn’t anyone thought to check the projector box yet?

We were moving quickly, but within moments, I heard the distinctive sound of footsteps coming up behind us at an alarming speed, probably guards coming to find out what had happened at the checkpoint we had gone through only minutes before. I pressed everyone forward, knowing they would be distracted by the control box for a minute or two.

“Are there any checkpoints between here and the next set of stairs?” demanded Ms. Dale, her eyes narrowed at Cruz.

The man gave her a confused look and then nodded. “One more,” he replied.

“New plan,” she announced, pulling her gun. “Vivian and I are taking you downstairs after discovering you tied up.”

We’re on our way, Thomas, I subvocalized. Meet us at the access road that goes around the back of the stadium, off the main road. Be prepared to drive around looking for us—I don’t know which exit we’ll be coming out of yet, but it will be one of the farther ones.

Ms. Dale took point, Cad, Cruz, Jeff, and I holding down the middle of the party, with Amber bringing up the rear. The checkpoint was clear as we approached it, only a cursory guard standing there. She drew down on us as we approached, but Ms. Dale held up a hand and quietly explained the situation.

“We have to get them downstairs and out of the building to question,” she said in a hushed and urgent tone. “We have no idea their role in all this.”

“Our role is that we were taken by surprise!” Jeff cried primly, and Ms. Dale shot him a withering glance, disgust on her face.

“Shut your mouth, you Patrian pig!” she snapped, before turning back to the warden. “Whoever is responsible is still in the control room. Radio the captain and inform her I will be taking these suspects downstairs.”

Without waiting for the flummoxed woman to respond, she raised her hand and waved us forward. The woman’s mouth worked up and down a few times, as though part of her wanted to object, but she didn’t stop us as we moved past her, heading past the main stairs that would get us to the second level.

As we reached the landing, I pulled off the subvocalizer. “How many checkpoints are between here and the stairs leading to exit C?”

“Three,” Cruz replied. “But wouldn’t it be easier to keep heading down these stairs, and then—?”

I shook my head. “Once the Patrians finish the video, this place is going to explode into mayhem. They’re all on the lower levels, so it’ll be better to move on this one to avoid the panic.”

He nodded, his forehead crinkled, and then pointed down the hall. “This way,” he urged. “We’ve got about eighty feet to the next checkpoint.”

We started moving, silence stretching between us. After a moment, I leaned in toward him. “Start talking. Like you have no idea what’s going on and you’re angry about this.”

Cruz hesitated, and then began speaking. I didn’t hear a word of it; my heart was beating so hard against my ribcage that it seemed to drown out his voice. I shot a glance over my shoulder, just to make sure we were all still together, and then turned my focus on the approaching checkpoint.

A guard was waiting at the narrow gap in the