The Gender Lie(78)

“Well, I can’t tell you what to do,” she replied. There was a slight pause before her next sentence stopped me cold. “But I can tell you what I plan to do. If you’d like to know.”

A chorus of shouts encouraged her to tell them, and her warm chuckle filled the air. “All right, calm down. Imagine you’re a mouse,” she started and I squeezed my eyes closed and grimaced.

I listened to her give the exact same scenario she had pitched to me to the boys. But instead of being appalled and thoughtful like I had been, the boys reacted to it very differently.

“Wow, Des,” chimed in Cody’s voice. “You’re really smart!”

There were loud sounds of agreements and I exhaled, resting my forehead against the rope. Of course the boys liked her scenario, they had no concept of what war meant in terms of human life.

I felt the rope jerk under my hands and panicked for a moment, thinking that the line was about to snap. I pulled back my sleeve and checked my watch. Had twenty minutes flown by so fast? I was shocked to see that it had.

The rope vibrated with tension and I clamped my teeth shut to keep from making a noise. Not that I thought Desmond could hear me through all this concrete. I just didn’t want to take the risk of alerting someone else.

The line jerked again and then I felt myself begin to rise in the air. I kept myself focused on Desmond’s voice answering questions and reminding the boys that if they wanted to help her, all they had to do was ask, and felt a roil of nausea that wasn’t exclusively related to my fear of heights. As I neared the top, I risked a peek and saw Viggo already leaning over the edge, his right hand outstretched.

I knew better than to reach for it—it could make me start to swing—and just held on tight. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt as I reached the top, hauling me up a few inches so I could grab the top bar of the handrail. I slowly climbed up and over, his hand on my arm to prevent me from falling.

Once my feet were firmly planted on the other side, I looked up at him and shook my head while his hands were fast at work, unclipping the rope from the carabiners.

“It’s bad, Viggo,” I breathed. “She’s carefully eliminating all hope of them having somewhere to go, then graciously allowing them to join the Liberators, if they ‘choose’ to. Except that it’s no choice at all, given the way she’s talking about Matrus and Patrus.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Viggo said as he carefully coiled up the rope. “Why would they fall for that so easily?”

I opened my mouth to respond that they were children who didn’t know better, and then stopped, reminded of the fact that they weren’t all children. Most of them were traumatized young adults, betrayed by the system. So why were they being so agreeable with Desmond?

“I don’t know,” I finally said. “But all she did was ask if they all got some candy and then got right down to discussion.”

Viggo threw the rope over his shoulder. “All right… I’m going to get this back to supply and see if I can’t check out one of those suits,” he whispered. “You get to your brother and wait for me there.”

I stared at the door a few feet away. “What are you going to do?” I asked.

“I’m going to go into Desmond’s office and see if I can find proof.”

“Proof of what? She’s just talking to them.”

He nodded. “And giving them candy. All of them. Has your brother been eating it?”

My jaw slackened. “I-I don’t know. I don’t think so—he doesn’t like her.”

“Good. I think she might be drugging them.”

“With what?”

Viggo shook his head. “I don’t know. Something that makes them more compliant. Willing to listen and accept.”

“Viggo…” I said, feeling extremely doubtful.

He set his hands on my shoulders and gazed deep into my eyes, his own glowing intensely. “Violet, I know these boys. They question everything. Aggressively.”

“Okay,” I said. “But then what’s your play?”

Viggo picked up the handle to the wagon and started walking, and I followed. “If I can find tangible proof, I’ll bring it to the rest of the Liberators,” he said. “If we can get them on our side, they’ll oust her as the leader.”

I gulped, but felt a faint glimmer of hope. “Then I hope you find it,” I whispered. I moved up next to him and pressed my lips against his rough cheek. “Good luck,” I said as I moved down one the aisles, heading for my brother’s cell.





33





Viggo