"He murdered your mother, father, and sister. They were not the first or last of his victims that night. He doesn't know that you were connected to this act at all. He'd never seen you before you met at the beginning of The Countdown. His mind is clear now from spending these past four years in prison. He's drug-free. I'm not even sure if he'd be capable of murder anymore, but it doesn't change the past."
"What?" I was crying now the tears that I'd held inside so long. Sobbing hard and rocking back and forth, feeling just this side of crazy. I felt as if my entire life had just imploded and taken everything I knew with it.
It made sense. It made such horrible sense. Of course that was why they made us partners. Of course.
Rogan, the man with the beautiful ocean-colored eyes, the man my gut told me was innocent, the man I'd wanted to kiss so badly my lips burned, the man I'd believed in heart and soul even after knowing him only such a short time.
He killed my family and took everything from me. He should have killed me, too. I wished he had.
I'm a very bad man, Rogan had told me only minutes ago. If you knew the truth about me, you wouldn't be looking at me like that. You'd hate me. And you'd sure as hell not want to kiss me.
He killed my family.
Still, something deep inside of me refused to believe it. No. It's not true. Jonathan's lying to you. They're all lying to you.
I rocked back and forth for a long time, my knees against my chest, and I hugged them tightly against me.
Jonathan, the man my flex had revealed to be truthful and honest and filled with guilt about the job he had to do, patted my back and gently wiped my tears away.
"I'm sorry, Kira. I probably shouldn't have told you, but I could see you growing closer to him. Too close. I cared for him once myself, but after the Kerometh … the Rogan I knew was gone forever. He may not have killed those girls, but he did deserve to go to Saradone, you see? You don't deserve any of this, and I'm so sorry. All I can tell you is what I told you before…." He trailed off.
I waited for him to continue, but he didn't. I raised my head. "What?"
He cleared his throat before he spoke again. "Only one of you has to live to the end of The Countdown," he told me, stony-faced. "If Rogan dies it won't be held against you. You'll still get your ticket to Offworld. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
I just stared at him. "I… I think so."
He nodded and took out a small black remote control from his pocket. It had a series of red and yellow buttons on it. "I'm very glad to hear it."
"Wh-what's that?"
His face was set in grim lines. "This device is connected to your implant. Now that I've determined you have healed enough, I'm afraid we must continue on to the reward level. Are you ready, Kira?"
I shook my head. "No, I just need a little time. Just a little-"
"I'm sorry," he said, and pressed a button. "It's already begun."
Everything went black.
LEVEL FOUR
CHAPTER EIGHT
I woke but still saw only black. I was wearing a blindfold and my hands were bound behind my back. I stifled a whimper.
Dammit. I hated the darkness. I hated it.
I willed myself to stay as calm as possible and concentrated on the announcer's voice in my head. The one whom I'd come to despise, although it was the only thing at the moment keeping me from freaking out.
"Yesterday in Level Three," he said, "Kira received a bullet wound to her upper femur. Without proper medical intervention she would have died from blood loss. She has now recovered enough to continue.
"She has performed to an exceptionally high level, and the producers of The Countdown are thrilled with your reaction to her and realize you are hungry for more information about our first ever female competitor.
"Kira Jordan is twenty-two years old. Some of her interests include long walks on the beach and wearing sexy lingerie. It excites her to know that you, as subscribers, are watching her every move as part of The Countdown, as she and her handsome but deadly partner, Rogan Ellis, fight for their lives in the anticipation of winning the game.
"On the streets since she was fifteen, Kira has survived as best she could using her brain and her body to get what she needed to survive. Desperate and destitute at the age of fifteen, she decided to use that body to aid her survival. This is a path taken by many lost girls, and it's a story that typically ends in tragedy. Prostitutes rarely trick only once, and even if they have a pimp to protect them, they could be beaten or murdered. At the very least they usually succumb to Kerometh addiction.
"The client Kira found on her darkest day was an older man in search of a young girl-a lawyer who was the lead partner at his firm. His wife had already gone to Offworld and he was to join her in the days to follow. Little did Kira know that he planned to kill and dismember her-a hobby that he'd recently developed-after their sexual tryst.
"However, after a few initial gropes, Kira decided that a life of prostitution was not for her. When she rebuked his actions he struck her and she fell to the floor, where he prepared to take her forcibly.
"The lawyer's wife collected priceless antique china. A bowl had fallen to the floor next to Kira's prone form. While the man was distracted by attempting to force her legs apart, she curled her fingers around the bowl and swung it toward his head, an act that succeeded in knocking him unconscious.
"Before Kira fled the scene, she searched the man's body for his wallet and took all the money that was there, which amounted to just under thirty dollars.
"The altercation was recorded by security cameras the wife had installed to catch her husband, whom she suspected to be cheating. She had no idea that she was married to a demented murderer who was to become, four years later, a formidable contestant on The Countdown. He made it all the way to Level Five before being eliminated.
"Through this event, Kira Jordan realized that stealing would help her live to face the next day. To fight for survival in a dying world. It has also led her here, to this very moment, to the next level of… The Countdown."
The blindfold was ripped from my face and I blinked. The skies were darkening with an approaching storm. A fork of lightning arched across the sky. I felt shaken at hearing one of the lowest points in my life broadcast in a friendly, almost singsong voice. I had no idea until a minute ago that that bastard had wanted to do anything but rape me, as if that wasn't bad enough. He had been ready to kill me, too? I shuddered at the thought.
My wrists burned as the bindings were released, and I felt a shove at my back that made me stagger forward a few feet until I found myself at the edge of a building.
I stifled a scream and struggled to maintain my balance as I saw where I was.
At the top of a skyscraper. On the very edge of the roof. If I'd taken another step I would have dropped at least forty stories to the street far below.
My stomach lurched.
"Kira!"
It was Rogan's voice, and I craned my neck to the left to see that stretched between the tops of two skyscrapers was a small bridge not more than eight inches wide. It went fifty feet across between the two buildings. In the exact middle was Rogan, lying on his back with his arms out above his head. His wrists were bound to the platform.