Rogan pushed open the door at the top and we burst out onto the roof. I sucked in fresh air until I got my breath back. He ran over to the side and looked over.
"There's a fire escape over here. I think we can climb down."
"Seven minutes remain in this level of The Countdown," the announcer said loud and clear in my head.
"What are we going to do then?" I asked him. "We can run, but isn't the whole point of this level for only one team to survive?"
"That's true," Rogan said. "But you did shoot Kurtis already. And I hit Mac really hard. You don't suppose that counts, do you?"
"No." Mac emerged from the roof door. Kurtis limped behind him, still holding his hand against his shoulder. He glared at me from a very pale face. "It sure as hell doesn't."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Mac was bleeding from his temple, but he still held the crowbar in his right hand.
"Five minutes remain in this level of The Countdown," the announcer said loud and clear in my head.
"How time flies when you're having fun," Kurtis said, although the sound of his voice, raspy and out of breath, didn't really fit the words. He clutched his left shoulder, dark red and shiny with blood from the bullet wound.
He noticed where I was looking. "You got me good, bitch. Are you proud of yourself?" He took a few steps closer to me. Rogan cut him off and stepped in front of me.
"Back off." He raised the crowbar defensively.
Kurtis managed a shallow laugh. "Never pegged you for the knight-in-shining-armor type, Rogan. Is she that good in bed?"
"I'm warning you."
"You're dead, rich boy."
Rogan's eyes narrowed. "You first."
Kurtis smirked at him through his obvious pain. "Nah. You first."
I saw the swing of the crowbar out of the corner of my eye as it came toward Rogan's head. He saw it at the last moment and was able to turn away from Kurtis, blocking the death blow from Mac with his own crowbar. The metal crashed together with a deafening sound.
Mac's fist made full contact with Rogan's jaw, and he went sprawling to the other side of the roof, the makeshift weapon knocked out of his hand. He got to his feet quickly and stormed at Mac, grabbing hold of the other man's black shirt.
My attention was now on Kurtis, who moved toward me slowly, his eyes never leaving my face.
"Hey, bitch," he snarled. "You don't have any weapons now, do you?"
I hadn't even realized I was backing away from him until my legs hit the side of the roof.
"Three minutes remain in this level of The Countdown."
He pulled his hand away from his shoulder long enough to crack his knuckles. "I've killed many people with my bare hands. I'll even tell you how I'll do you. I'm going to put my hands around your neck and I'm going to squeeze until I hear something pop. And then I'll keep squeezing until your tongue rolls out of your mouth, until your eyes bug out from your face and you go limp. Then I'm going to throw you off this roof and watch as your pretty red guts smear the pavement down there."
I felt the cold brick against my hands. The edge came up to the backs of my thighs. "Were you serious when you said that you killed my parents?" I blinked back tears. "Or were you told to tell me that to get a reaction for the cameras?"
He smirked. "Don't you believe me?"
"I don't know what to believe anymore."
He grabbed my hand in his. "I'll do you a favor before I kill you, bitch." He thrust my hand against his neck. "If you're really a psi, why don't you give me a read?" He laughed. 'Take a look at my soul and you tell me if I did it or not."
I searched his face for something that would indicate that he was lying. That he wasn't a horrible man who'd ruined my life. I wanted to see a glimmer of hope in his gnarled, scarred face.
I glanced over at Rogan and Mac, fighting hand to hand on the other side of the roof. Rogan looked over at me and shouted my name when he saw I'd been cornered by a man twice my size. He tried to move toward me, but Mac stopped him, pushing him back, and swung the crowbar like a baseball bat. I heard Rogan yell out in pain.
"Two minutes remain in this level of The Countdown."
My hand was still against Kurtis's neck. He was smiling at me, but it wasn't friendly or warm. It was amused, as if he were daring me to try something violent. My despair and confusion amused him.
"Can't do it after all, can you?" he said.
"Oh, yes, I can."
I closed my eyes, flexed my mind, and ripped into his.
::::::::::Filth
Disgust::::::::::
:::::::::::Anger
Betrayal:::::::::
:::::::::Rage
Certainty::::::
… and I'd do it again…. Love to take her now… no time left…. I'll win this fucking game…. So easy… bitch shot me… Want to kill her… like I killed her family. … Watched them bleed…. What a laugh…. I'll kill them all again…. Give me the chance…. Go to Offworld and do the same there….
The pain tore through my brain and I let go of him. It was even worse than before. Even worse than with Gareth. I couldn't see anything but white for a moment; I was blind from entering this bastard's mind. He was everything he appeared to be-scum of the earth.
And I knew for sure that he was the murderer who'd stolen my life seven years ago.
When my vision cleared and I was able to focus again, I saw him staring at me with widened eyes.
"It's true," he said. "You can do it. I felt it. You saw into my soul."
I cast a fearful look over at Rogan and Mac. I could see that Rogan was bleeding, but he was still fighting hard.
"Yeah," I said. "I saw your soul."
He pulled his knife out of his front pocket. "All the more reason for me to slice you open and watch you bleed."
"Kira!" Rogan yelled.
Without thinking twice about it, I lashed out and punched Kurtis in his injured shoulder. He screamed in pain and dropped his knife, but before I could twist away from him he grabbed my shoulders so hard I thought he was going to snap bone. I fought back against him as hard as I'd ever fought before: nails, teeth, fists, slashing and pounding anything I could reach. I tried to trip him, winding myself around his legs, and I felt him fall.
He still had ahold of me as he crashed against the side of the roof, and we rolled across it, and then suddenly there was nothing under my feet. I screamed and scrambled to grab hold of the building as we fell off the side.
My already short fingernails broke. My hands were sweating, slippery, but I clung to the building, trying to get a foothold below me.
The countdown began to thunder in my brain.
"Forty-five … forty-four … forty-three … forty-two …"
"Kira!" Rogan yelled again. "Kira!"
Hand over hand, scraping roughly over brick, I tried to pull myself back up to the roof. Just before I got a firm hold on the siding, I felt a hand on my ankle and then a heavy weight. I looked down. Kurtis was dangling off the side of the building, a few feet lower than I was, and he had hold of my left boot. He stared up at me, his expression frantic.
My hand slipped a little, and I struggled to hold on.
"Help me!" Kurtis pleaded. "Please don't let me fall!"
"Twenty-one … twenty.. nineteen …"
I forced the words from a throat that felt more like screaming at the moment. "I read you, Kurtis, with my tainted psi ability. And do you want to know what I saw deep inside of you? Deep inside your soul?"
"What? What?"
"Not a whole hell of a lot."
His hand slipped off my boot, and he was hanging on to the side of the building for a few seconds by only a couple of fingers. And then, with a terrified scream, he fell twenty-five stories to the street below.
Just before he hit I heard a loud bang from the roof. It scared me so much I almost lost my remaining grip.
What the hell was that?
"Rogan?" I managed. "Rogan, are you still there? Are you okay?"
It felt like an eternity, but it was only a few seconds until I felt hands gripping my arms, pulling me back up to the roof. Rogan, bloodied and beaten but still alive, crushed me against him.
"Congratulations, Rogan and Kira, for completing Level Five successfully."
"What happened?" I asked after a moment, pulling back enough to look at his face. I touched it gently.
"Ninety-foot implant rule," he said. "When Kurtis fell he went farther than that from Mac."
I braved a quick look to the other side of the roof. A large body lay there very still, a dark stain where its head should have been.
I rested my head against Rogan's chest. "The song 'Pop Goes the Weasel' is playing in my head right now for some strange reason."
"I think that's very appropriate." He managed to give me a very small grin.
I sighed heavily, feeling bone-weary. "Kurtis begged for his life at the end. I couldn't help him, but even if I could have, I don't think I would have. I'm glad he's dead; is that wrong?"
"Not in my book. The bastard had it coming."
"Rogan and Kira have only one more level to complete before they are considered the second set of winners ever in the history of The Countdown. Will they be successful? Or will the last level finally pull them apart forever? Stay tuned, subscribers. This game isn't over yet! "
I refrained from rolling my eyes. That freak seriously sounded like he was introducing a baseball team. Or doing an infomercial. Not hosting a game where death was the consolation prize.
This whole thing was sickening.
I frowned. "Rogan, I really need to talk to you."
He met my eyes, and his lost their warmth. "Is it about Gareth?"
"Yeah. I talked to him face-to-face."
His forehead creased. "What is it?"
"I was able to read him. I know what's actually going on, Rogan. He's not really-"
Just then Rogan clutched his head and roared in pain right before his eyes rolled back into their sockets and he slumped forward. I caught him in my arms and brought him down to the ground as gently as I could.
Breathing hard, my gaze darting everywhere, I waited for them to trigger my own implant to knock me unconscious, but nothing happened. I knelt there on the top of the roof for a moment, then got to my feet, looking around at the three silver cameras that circled the area.
"What now?" I yelled at them. "What do you want from me now?"
The announcer's voice boomed through the darkness. "Kira Jordan was told that certain information was not to be shared with her partner. If she doesn't comply with this rule then she will face severe penalties."
I gave the cameras a good shot of my middle finger.
"She was also given a choice earlier by the producers of The Countdown. If Kira eliminates her partner on camera she will automatically win the game. Her reward will he a first-class ticket to Offworld and enough money to start her wonderful new life."
One of the cameras hovered closer. A small spotlight shone down on the roof, highlighting the knife that Kurtis had dropped there earlier before he, well… dropped.
"Pick it up, Kira," the cheerful voice urged.
I resisted, but then felt a jolt of electricity zap through my implant. I stooped down and snatched up the knife, glaring up at the camera.
"Kill Rogan, Kira. Kill him now."
Rogan lay on the ground, his face bloodied but peaceful in sleep. His arm was sprawled across his chest as if he were lying in a comfortable bed.
And if I killed him I could have everything I ever wanted.
"The subscribers want you to kill him, Kira. They want you to win."
I swallowed hard and let a long breath hiss out between my clenched teeth. "The subscribers can go fuck themselves."
I threw the knife over the side of the building.
There was deadly silence for a full ten seconds.
Then pain ripped through my brain, and everything went black.
LEVEL SIX
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"Kira," I heard Rogan say loudly. "Wake up."
I woke slowly. Extremely slowly. I lay somewhere soft. Rogan was next to me. His hand was on my forehead, stroking the hair off of it. I blinked slowly until he came into focus.
"Good morning," he said.
"What…" My voice sounded thick with sleep. "What's going on? Where are we?"
"Not entirely sure about that."
"How long have we been here?"
"Not sure about that either, but it's light outside now." He nodded toward a window to the left.
I saw that we were in a small bedroom. It looked like a motel, one of the cheaper ones. But everything seemed clean enough at first glance. A small amount of light shone through the window through gray clouds overhead.
A quick check under the sheets told me that I was still fully dressed, even wearing my boots. Rogan was also dressed.
"We must have been asleep for hours." I tried to sit up, feeling my muscles tense, but my body ached from head to foot, so I settled back down on the comfortable bed. "I still feel like hell."
"Me too."
I touched his face then, studying it for the first time up close since yesterday. He was covered in bruises and small cuts. I frowned as I softly ran my finger over them.
"I know," he said, flinching. "I'm a wreck. As if this damn scar wasn't bad enough."
He reached to touch the scar that bisected his eyebrow and ran down to the center of his left cheek.
I grabbed his hand. "You must have been really vain when you were a rich pretty boy. I hate to even tell you this, in case it swells your ego any further, but scars are hot. I wouldn't even look twice at a guy who didn't have scars."
He raised an eyebrow. "Is that right?"
I nodded solemnly. "In fact, I don't think you have enough scars. This game has obviously not been difficult enough for you."
"Yeah, it's been great. I can hardly contain how much fun it's been so far." His grin faded and he looked around the room. "Listen, we didn't have a chance to talk about what happened between us yesterday in the reward room. I… I know you probably regret it."
I frowned. "Why, because of the cameras?"
His expression shadowed. "Yeah, that. And … the fact that I couldn't control myself with you. I'm sorry. It's … it's just been so long … since I…"
"Are you trying to say that I was just a postprison piece of ass?" I said it jokingly, but inside I felt a twinge of something. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear his reply to that.
But my response didn't get the answer I thought it would. Instead of a hurried assurance, or another apology, I got a huge, deep belly laugh that made him roll onto his back.
I punched his shoulder. "It's not funny, you jerk."
He stopped laughing long enough to say, "Kira, you are definitely not just a … how did you put it? A postprison piece of ass?"
"So glad I amuse you." I forced myself to sit up and crossed my arms. "And just for the record, I don't regret it at all. Or at least, I didn't until now."
He reached for my hands again and brought them up to his lips. "God, even in this terrible situation-which quite honestly has capped off the worst years of my entire life- you have been one of the best things that's ever happened to me."
I felt something stir deep inside of me, and felt tears prick at my eyes, but it wasn't from sadness this time.
"Kira, I need to tell you something," he said, and when he raised his gaze to meet mine he wasn't amused anymore; he was deadly serious.
My stomach sank. "What?"
"I don't know how much time we have before they interrupt us." He scanned the room. "When you were meeting with my brother, Jonathan stopped by to talk to me." His jaw tensed. "He told me that if I killed you on camera that I could win the game. That I'd be free."
I blinked slowly and looked up at him. "And what did you say to that?"
"What did I say? I told him to go to hell."
I felt cold. "Gareth told me the same thing."
/> "That if you killed me you'd win."
I nodded.
He cleared his throat. "Well, since I'm still breathing, then I'm going to assume that you disagreed with that plan."
"I did."
A small grin elevated his mouth. "Is it wrong that I'm really touched that you don't want to kill me?"
I glanced around the room. "It's a little strange. But this entire situation is strange to start with."
"For over four years I've lived a life where everybody wanted me dead or tortured. Even Gareth, my own brother." His expression darkened. "Dammit. Why would he turn his back on me like that? I would have been there for him. If the situation had been reversed, even if I thought he was guilty …" He shook his head. "I can't see myself abandoning him like he did me."
God, I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him the truth so badly that it was like a huge, painful lump in my chest. But they couldn't know. They couldn't hear me.
"Where do you think the cameras are right now?" I asked.
"I don't know. They could be anywhere. As far as we know they're taping us right now." He pressed back into the bed and stared at the ceiling. "When I was in charge they were still handhelds. Now they're remote-controlled. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they had a bit of artificial intelligence programming in them; they move like they have minds of their own, don't they?"
My mouth felt dry. "You really think so? Like the robot?"
Like Gareth's implant? I thought.
"No, not exactly like that. Just enough that they can fly about on their own, keeping us as their focus. I got a good look at them last time, too. They have receivers on them. I'd be willing to bet that our implants are connected to the cameras somehow. And the cameras are connected to the game's network at Ellis Enterprises."
I pulled him closer so I could whisper into his ear, "Why can't we just run?"
He tensed. 'They'd know."
"So there's no way of getting away?" I was saying it so softly. If there were cameras hidden in the room I didn't want them to hear me.
"Not with those damn cameras around."
"Rogan," I whispered, quieter, "I need to tell you something. It's important."
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