The Gender Lie(25)

It didn’t seem to occur to Solomon that we should notify Owen, but as we moved down the hall, I clicked over to Owen’s channel.

Owen.

There was a pause. Vi? Why—

Never mind that, I interrupted, my eyes on the hall. Listen, another guard found the dead guard and alerted others by radio. I took him down but it’s too late. I paused a moment, and then continued. You also need to know that Solomon and I are pressing forward, even though we know it’s against protocol.

There was an even longer pause and then a click. Vi, I can safely say I am not happy with this, and knowing Solomon, he’s less than pleased as well. But if he’s still with you, then we’ll proceed. If he gets hurt...

Understood, I replied, and then clicked back over to Solomon’s channel as we continued to move down the halls.

Pausing at each door to make sure it was locked or that there wasn’t anyone hiding inside was a slow process which made me feel the passage of time acutely. It felt like hours by the time we reached the correct door, but in reality, it was only a matter of minutes. Luckily, it seemed that the group from the back was taking their time—I still hadn’t heard the faintest whisper of movement from up ahead.

I stood over Solomon, my rifle trained down the hallway, while he used the automatic lock pick to open the door. He gave it a twist once it stopped whirring, and the door swung open. He slid inside and I backed in behind him, keeping my rifle on the hall until I had closed the door.

I let the weapon drop as soon as the door was closed. We were lucky—many of the offices in the building had massive glass windows that allowed people to look into the rooms. This room, however, was completely enclosed. There wasn’t even a window on the door. If we were lucky, they would never know we were inside.

My elation over the room was quickly dampened when I turned around and saw the staggering amount of boxes. Searching every single one would take forever.

Solomon was already sliding his knife through the tape securing the cardboard cartons. I frowned, and examined one of the boxes. They were devoid of writing except for a series of handwritten numbers on the top. Looking around the room, I saw a clipboard dangling from a nail and fetched it.

It was a list of numbers, followed by a description of each item contained within.

Solomon—look at the numbers. There are only a few boxes that have medical supplies listed within the contents.

He stopped and looked at me. Okay. There are a lot of boxes, Violet—can you narrow it down any more?

I scanned the numbers. Most of the first five digits were the same—it was the final four that were different. Look for boxes ending in 4546, 5332, or 8991.

He started sifting through the boxes, and I did the same, humming the numbers in my head to remember them. I found the first box under three other boxes in the second stack.

I got 5332, I conveyed to Solomon. I set it aside and pulled out my knife, cutting through the tape and cardboard. I shuffled around the contents of the box, looking for something, anything, that vaguely resembled the picture that Thomas had supplied of the laser. The box was filled mostly with vials of medicine and boxes of syringes.

I placed it aside just as I heard Solomon’s knife cutting through another box.

Which is that? I subvocalized, turning back to the stacks.

8991, he replied, ripping the box open. I continued to scan the other boxes, looking for box number 4546 in the midst of the chaos. After a moment, Solomon’s voice came through my ear bud. Not here.

I could feel the tension coiling around us. Every second we were in the room was a second too long. I eased myself through two stacks of boxes, being careful not to press against them more than necessary. They were precariously stacked, and swayed under my passage.

Solomon turned to see what I was up to, his expression incredulous. I winced as I finally got through, expelling the breath I had sucked in to make myself thinner.

There were more boxes piled up in front of me, and I scanned them quickly. I found the last box, number 4546, under several boxes. As quietly as I could, I moved the other boxes aside, and pulled out my knife again.

I cut through the tape and felt disgusted as I gazed at the clear plastic tubing for IVs.

It’s not here! I subvocalized, my frustration evident even though the vocalizer.

Then Owen will get it. Pass me your bag. And your gun too. Quickly, Vi! I can hear them coming.

I paused, and then heard what he heard—the distinct sound of boots on the linoleum in the hall. I pushed the bag through the small gap between the boxes. Solomon grabbed it, and then reached for the gun.

The footsteps were growing closer and I hesitated—if I pushed through the gap before they opened the door, there was a chance that they would see the boxes still moving when they opened it.