The Gender Game 5: The Gender Fall(79)

“The heloship just landed,” he announced. “There were no signs of hostile forces. The vehicles should be back shortly.”

I somehow managed not to exhale loudly or choke in relief, and channeled it all into a nod. “Good,” I said. “But we’re not out of the woods yet. We still might have to proceed with the evacuation, depending on what they report. Have your men on standby—if the news is bad, I want first shift to head to the barn to help pack the vehicles, while second shift maintains the guard duties.”

Gregory nodded and placed his hand to his throat, a switch clicking and his lips moving. I grabbed the box I had filled with wires and slid it to the end of the table, my ribs stinging at the effort. Picking up full boxes was still impossible for me, but I could at least push them if they weren’t too heavy.

A few minutes later, Gregory gave me a look and then headed outside, and I dropped what I was doing, immediately heading for the door to the porch. I watched the lights of the guard’s car approach and then pull around to the front of the house. The night air was cool, causing my skin to pebble.

The car’s engine shut off, and I heard the doors slamming as the returning patrol got out. I nearly went weak in the knees as Viggo came around the vehicle, and my first urge was to go to him and make sure he was all right. But as he stepped into the dim light of the lanterns, I froze. His handsome face was bruised down the side, and he was favoring one leg. Worst of all, though, I could see even from this distance that his eyes were flat and hard, but it wasn’t the hardness of anger. No, this was a look I knew all too well… from Ashabee’s manor.

I looked around at the rest of the crew, watching as Amber, Ms. Dale, and Dr. Arlan came into view. Dr. Arlan was carrying a small boy, a red-stained bandage wrapped tightly around his thigh, in his arms. Thomas plodded into view, and my heartbeat quickened as I saw the same forlorn look all the others wore even on his face.

“Where’s Owen?” I asked.

Viggo’s brows drew together, and he opened his mouth, only to slam it shut so hard I swore I could hear his teeth clack together.

I heard another door slam and took a step off the porch as Owen came into view. He was holding another boy, probably around nine or ten, with blond hair. His eyes were closed, his cheek pressed to Owen’s shoulder.

In the gray, wan pre-dawn light, Owen’s eyes were swollen and red. He held the boy tightly in his arms, as if he would never let go. It would’ve been sweet if there weren’t an air of deep sorrow radiating off him like a winter storm.

My eyes flicked again over the boy Owen was carrying, this time noting the similarities between the two. My heart plunged into my stomach as I met Owen’s bloodshot gaze. Tears were swimming there.

“Ian,” I gasped, and Owen swallowed, his face breaking as he sagged to the ground, clutching his little brother’s lifeless body tightly to his chest.





27





Violet





I moved over to Owen, kneeling next to him. He was sobbing, each breath heaving as though torn from him, as though his heart had been ripped out and cut in two before his eyes. In a way, it had.

I threw my arm around him, holding him close as his body shook under the force of his cries. Each one was like a knife to my own heart, and I tasted his pain—it was so close, too close, to my own. But this was… this was agony. It was cruel and unjust and wrong. I didn’t have any words to make it right, because there were none. Nothing would ever make this right.

So I didn’t say anything. I let Owen cry for a few minutes, then gently coaxed him up. I didn’t ask him if he wanted someone to help him with his brother. I knew if it were me in his shoes… I stopped that train of thought before it could even reach its conclusion. Owen needed me right now, and I couldn’t, wouldn’t let my worry over Tim affect me. Later, when I was alone, I would cry for Owen, Ian, and Tim. But right now, I had to focus.

“C’mon, Owen,” I said softly, urging him forward. “Let’s get him inside.”

He took a shuddering breath as he plodded forward, and I stayed beside him, pressing him onward. Amber held open the front door for us, her eyes shimmering with tears, and I reached out and pressed my left hand into hers, squeezing it.

As we passed Gregory, I nodded at him. “Tell Ms. Dale what we’ve been doing and why, and she’ll tell you how to proceed.” He nodded and disappeared through the front door.

I coaxed Owen down the hall toward the room I had been sleeping in. I opened the door and let him in first, then closed it behind us. Owen moved over to the bed, his movements wooden and robotic as he laid Ian down on the blanket, resting his head on the pillow. Then he sank down to his knees and rested his arms on the mattress, taking Ian’s small hand into his own.