"I'm not capable of murder. I'm not like you."
Rogan let go of my hand, but kept walking. He didn't look at me. "You don't know what I'm capable of. You don't know me."
"I don't want to know you." I bit the cruel words off. They sounded worse than I wanted them to.
That earned me a look. "We're running out of choices. Have you got that through your pretty head? There are no choices. We do what they tell us to or we die."
"Maybe I don't care. My family was murdered. I'd never do that to another person's family. I'd rather die first."
"I'm not in the mood to argue with you, Kira. We don't have the time."
I watched as Bernard Jones exited the mall through the swinging doors.
"So you're going to follow him and then what?"
"And then I'm going to kill him." He raised an eyebrow. "But then again, I am a murderer, right?"
"So it's that simple for you?"
His fists clenched at his sides. "You're acting as if I have a choice."
"There's always a choice."
"Not for me," he said grimly. "Not anymore."
And with that he stalked out of the entrance to follow his prey. I raced to keep up with him.
Kill or be killed.
There had to be another way. And if there was, I needed to figure it out. Fast.
CHAPTER SIX
Bernard Jones walked down the sidewalk outside of the mall, completely oblivious to the fact that he was being followed.
"Where'd the camera go?" I looked around the surrounding area, gray and bland, and noticed that we were all alone again.
"It's around, I'm sure."
"You seem awfully sure about a lot in this game."
He raised a dark eyebrow. "Do I?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Yeah. You do. And I'm going to figure out what your real story is, Rogan. Don't think I won't."
He snorted at that. "Ah, so you're actually an intrepid reporter at heart, are you? Going to get to the truth behind the man? Find out what makes me tick, other than the countdown in my head?"
"Don't mock me."
"But you make it so easy." He gave me a sideways glance. "Do you give all the men in your life such a hard time?"
"There are no men in my life."
"What about your boyfriend, Colin?"
I made a face. "He's not my boyfriend."
"And what the announcer said about you using your sexuality to get whatever you want?" His gaze slid down the length of me.
I pressed my lips together. "It's not true. Besides, even if it was, it wouldn't exactly get me what I want right now."
"Which is?"
'To get out of this game."
"So that's all you want? To get out of this game?"
"Yes."
"And then what?"
Bernard Jones slipped behind the corner of a crumbling building ahead.
'Then I want to figure out how to go to Offworld," I said.
He smiled thinly. "Everybody wants to go Offworld. What's so great about that?"
"It's not here. It's a place where somebody can make a fresh start and have the chance at a happy life." I crossed my arms as I trudged along. I didn't like revealing too much of myself to this guy. It made me feel uncomfortable. "And what about you? If you don't want to go to Offworld, what do you want?"
"Revenge." He said it so quickly that it surprised me.
"Against who?"
He smiled cruelly to show his perfect white teeth. "Against those who've done me wrong, sweetheart. And it's a mighty long list."
I swallowed at his cold words. "I'll do my best to stay off that list."
"An excellent idea."
"There are seven minutes left in this level of The Countdown," the disembodied voice announced.
Rogan's shoulders tensed, and he picked up his pace.
"Wait," I said, panic welling in my chest. "There has to be another way."
He met my gaze, and I was surprised to see his was strained. "I have a theory. This guy… this Bernard Jones … he's a plant. Maybe he's not as innocent as you might think. Maybe he knows what's going on and this is just another test."
"Why would you think that?"
He shook his head. "I'm not positive. But the game … they don't bring in outsiders. They don't target civilians who have nothing to do with The Countdown in the first place. It's just not their style."
"You keep talking about the game like you know all about it."
"You're going to have to take my word on this, Kira. Just listen to me for a second. If they start bringing in unassuming civilians, then they run the risk of being exposed. The last thing the subscribers would want is to have their friends and family learn their dirty little secret of spending money to see torture and murder."
I ran it through my mind. It made sense. Even though the cops didn't care what might happen to criminals, they'd care what happened to the regular Joe on the street. The city was a dying, crumbling mess, but it wasn't out-of-control chaos.
"So you think we just need to confront him?" I asked. "Get him to admit who he really is?"
"That's my theory. I'm hoping like hell I'm right."
Before I could say anything else, Rogan stopped walking and shouted, "Bernard Jones!"
The man halted and turned around. We had walked a couple of blocks from the mall and were currently in the middle of a city parking lot-abandoned. No cars. Nobody was even in the pay booth. Dusk had begun to creep in, and the shadows grew longer in front of us.
Even from a distance I could see Bernard's wariness as he saw the six-plus feet of danger who'd just called out his name.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"Just to talk," Rogan said.
"Who are you?"
"Name's Rogan. This here is Kira. We need some help."
He shook his head. "Not from me."
I turned around to look back in the direction of the mall, but it was blocked by other buildings. This part of the city was totally vacant.
No witnesses.
No witnesses except for the cameras, that was. They approached behind us, two of them, parting and moving to either side of the parking lot.
How convenient.
"Who are you, Bernard?" Rogan asked.
"Wh-what do you mean?"
"I mean, who are you? Who sent you here? Tell me what you know, and tell me right now."
Bernard shook his head. "I don't have any idea what you're talking about."
There was a sharp, discarded piece of metal on the ground, and Rogan snatched it up. He moved closer. "You have very little time. Just tell us who you really are."
"There are five minutes remaining in this level of The Countdown."
Bernard's eyes widened, but he said nothing to give any indication that he was a game plant.
Oh, God, I thought. He was just a civilian after all.
"Rogan, what do you think you're doing?" My heart was pounding painfully against my ribs.
He didn't look at me. "I already told you. I'm doing what I have to do."
I shook my head. "You can't. Please, my family-"
"Your family has nothing to do with this." He glanced over his shoulder at me and met my gaze. "I'm doing this whether or not you understand. I'm sorry, Kira. There's no other choice. Not if we want to live."
His eyes held a look of despair, which quickly closed off to blankness. Then he tore the look off and stalked toward Bernard before I could say another word.
Bernard froze in place as the convicted murderer approached, weapon in hand.
"You're Bernard Jones," he said.
"Yes. I already said I was. I don't know what this is about. I… I… don't want any trouble."
"Neither did I."
The man blinked nervously. "Listen, you can have my money. All of it. Just do not hurt me."
"Money doesn't do me any good anymore."