The Gender Game 5: The Gender Fall(72)

I fished the earbud out of my pocket and held it out to the group. “By the way, he was wearing this.”

At the sight of the thing, Thomas cursed. Marching over, he plucked the earbud from my hand with two fingers and rushed over to the car he’d come in. Curious, I followed, watching as he opened the back and pulled out a black box, about the size of a jewelry box, but considerably heavier, from the way he was handling it. He grunted as he pulled the lid open, and then dropped the earbud in and slammed it shut with a thunk, flipping down the top and locking it.

Silence followed, and I felt a keen sense that something was wrong. Everyone else seemed to feel it as well, because, almost as one, we turned to look behind us, as if something had managed to sneak up on us. The headlights from both cars illuminated the small clearing, but shadows pressed in relentlessly beyond their reach. I searched them, finding nothing, and after a moment, released a tightly held breath.

I turned back to look at the others, and then felt a chuckle slip from me. “Well, that was anticlimactic,” I quipped, and I saw Ms. Dale roll her eyes, while Owen grinned nervously.

While Dr. Arlan efficiently set out his tools and began preparing to make an incision in Cody’s thigh, sanitizing and marking the skin while wearing a deep frown of concentration, Thomas stepped toward us, away from his heavy box, dusting his hands. “The box is lead-lined. They won’t be able to track that earpiece through the frequency they were utilizing anymore.”

“I’m glad you brought that,” I said. “I had completely forgotten to mention that earbud earlier, but I figured it might be something you could use.”

“Maybe,” Thomas hedged. “But it’ll be useless taking the tracker out of that kid if they can track us through their earbud. I don’t know if it was worth the risk. Won’t know until I get it back—and even then, I recommend taking it far away from the camp before we try.”

Ms. Dale cleared her throat, and we turned, looking at her. “The boy,” she said. “Tell us more about how he acted when you were fighting him.”

“Right,” I said, shaking my head. “His eyes were… blank. Like there was nothing behind them. He wouldn’t talk except to whomever was on the other side of the earbud. It was like he’d been programmed or something.”

As I spoke, even I noticed the emotions beginning to vacate my voice as I tried to distance myself from the anger still surging hot and deep in the pit of my belly. I needed to focus right now, and that anger would only make the situation worse. But God—he was just a boy.

There was a rustling sound, and I craned my neck over the top of Ms. Dale’s head in time to see Dr. Arlan gesturing with a free hand, the other holding a set of small, intricate tools. “I need a little help,” he announced.

“I got it,” Thomas replied, heading over to Dr. Arlan. I watched him go, and then turned back to Ms. Dale and Owen.

“How could they do that to those kids?” I asked after a moment. “How could they train them to be so obedient?”

Ms. Dale licked her lips. “There are methods, but to be honest, it takes longer than a few weeks. The process could take months, even years.”

“It must be the Benuxupane?” Owen asked, crossing his arms. “Violet mentioned that when she took it, she felt more compliant?”

“She said she was able to resist a bit,” I replied. “It didn’t seem to have a very strong effect on her. But to make those kids into emotionless drones... They must have really made some changes to the formula.”

“Desmond has access to the whole Matrian government’s top scientists and funding,” Ms. Dale said. “If anyone could isolate the component that had that effect, I would imagine she’d have the resources to do it. And once they isolated it…”

“They would have enhanced it,” I spat.

Ms. Dale nodded, her jaw clenched. “I really hate that woman,” she said under her breath.

“You and me both,” I muttered.

“Guys, you better not leave me off the list—plus Amber, Henrik, all the Liberators, Jay…”

I chuckled as Owen began ticking off the names on his fingers, waving a hand in front of him.

“All right,” I said. “We all agree that Desmond is a vile witch. But that doesn’t get us anywhere.”

We fell into silence, mulling over the seriousness of the problem. Finally, Owen sighed. “We really need to find a way to destroy the Benuxupane. Something that does this to people… it shouldn’t even be allowed to exist.”

Heads nodded all around the group. I agreed too—once again, we’d been so caught up in responding to one crisis after another that we’d lost sight of the bigger picture. We had to find a way to strike back.