He looked at me smugly. 'The audio portion of some of your little talks may have been temporarily unavailable. Technical difficulties, I'm sure. The subscribers are now wondering why you would let the man who killed your family fuck you on camera like a whore." He smiled. "But to each their own, I suppose."
I could barely control the fury that curled through me like fire. It burned the way my face still did where he'd struck me.
"I'm not killing him," I said evenly, trying like hell to keep my patience.
"If you kill him you will win the game and you will start your new life Offworld."
I steadied myself, trying to breathe normally, in and out, in and out.
This man couldn't be so horrible, could he? He was Rogan's brother. That had to count for something. But I'd never met anyone I hated more on contact, and I hated a whole hell of a lot of people.
He was sitting so close. Could I get a read on him? Could I push past my anger and frustration and concentrate enough to do it quickly?
If I had to, I would. And I did have to.
Breathe. Relax. Focus yourself.
He studied me with a small frown. "Are you certain that you refuse my offer?"
I breathed out and tried to still my mind. "Positive."
"Then we're done here. At your inevitable elimination, don't say I didn't give you a chance."
As he was about to get up, my hand shot out and I grabbed his wrist and squeezed.
Please work, I prayed inwardly.
I closed my eyes and flexed.
Nothing.
I frowned. There was nothing but darkness and silence in his mind.
"What do you think you're doing?" he growled, but he didn't pull away.
I flexed deeper, peeling away the layers I found within him like a black, rotting onion. Layer after layer of darkness until finally I could see something down deep. Sense it. Feel it. A small kernel of light hidden under so much black.
:::::::::Fear::::::::::
That was all it was. Just a small piece of fear smothered under a blanket of darkness.
My head began to ache but I ignored it. Gareth's arm was tight and he tried to pull away, but my grip was too strong. I dug my fingers into his flesh and sank deeper into his mind.
There was something else there. Something small and barely discernible.
Help me.. please. … Can you hear me?… You have the gift.. maybe … just maybe.. I don't know…
"I can hear you," I bit the words out past the growing pain and opened my eyes to look into Gareth's cool blue-green gaze.
"Let go of me before I call for my guards." He spoke quietly, but his words were edged with danger.
I felt so confused. "But you were-"
Listen … please listen … please listen to me, Kira…
I stilled myself and strained to understand the thoughts, words, images, projections that slid through my mind. They were very quiet, very distant… but very precise. Each word was like a knife in the soft recesses of my brain, and I steeled myself against the pain, trying to hold on for as long as I could.
Too much money spent on research… development… greed… too much… We created an artificial intelligence program… and it was perfect.. but my brother tried to destroy everything…. There was an energy surge… and a virus…. It got into the program … then into my implant.. my prototype implant…. It took over my mind.. my life.. It feeds on the game… on the brain waves of the subscribers…. It feeds like a leech,… It wants more…. It wants to take the game and the implants wider…. Offworld… It wants everything…. You must escape…. There is a way… a safe house…. You must take Rogan there…. Please … there's no time….
An image appeared in my brain-an address: 358 Paragon Avenue. It was a fleeting thought that I had to grab hold of and pin down before it faded away.
I'm sorry, Kira … so sorry. … There is nothing I can do…. Four years and the virus only grows stronger…. It has me…. It must be destroyed….
And then there were men in white coats in the room pulling me off of Gareth, but my fingernails scored his arm enough to draw blood. I was crying from the pain, shaking so badly that they couldn't keep me on my feet. I sank down to the floor sobbing and clutching my head.
My nose was bleeding, too; the warm thickness of it came away on my hand as I wiped at my face. My head felt as though it had split open right through the middle and my brain was oozing out. I had to reach up and touch it to know that wasn't the case.
The artificial intelligence program tainted with a computer virus that had possessed Gareth Ellis for over four years stood in front of me holding his injured arm, looking down at me. "Perhaps all is not explained by science after all."
I stared up at him. Did he know what had just happened? Did he hear Gareth's plea from deep within him?
He did. I could see it in his cold gaze as he looked down at me. He no longer looked amused with me, just annoyed. He leaned over and grabbed my face in his hand and squeezed hard enough for me to pay attention.
"If you know what's good for you, you won't share any of what you've learned with Rogan."
He let go of me and wiped his hand on his black pants as if to remove any trace of me from his stolen skin.
And then I was half dragged, half carried out of the white room.
LEVEL FIVE
CHAPTER TWELVE
Another blindfold. More darkness.
You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but unfortunately phobias don't work that way. You don't simply get used to what you fear. It gets worse and worse and harder to deal with every single time. Even if you tell yourself it's irrational to be afraid.
The darkness made me hear my sister's cries and my mother's screams again, replaying like a horrific song, over and over and over.
But suddenly something made the darkness even harder to deal with.
My implant began to beep, and a sweep of pain brushed through my brain.
The rules replayed in my mind: To separate more than ninety feet from your partner will lead to immediate disqualification.
Where was Rogan?
"Rogan? Where are you?" I said aloud. There was a man at my back who had my arms pinned behind me as he pushed me ahead of him. He was big and strong, and I'd given up fighting against him several minutes ago when they led me out of the building I'd been in and into a car. I couldn't see anything, but we drove for about ten minutes before stopping again. I didn't know where I was, but I knew it had stopped raining. The wind was cool on my face.
I felt something else move past my face with a metallic whirring sound. A camera.
And so it begins again, I thought.
I felt a deep weariness then. Was Gareth right? Was I doomed to die in this game? Was my only chance to try to kill Rogan?
He'd offered me everything or nothing at all. A privileged life or certain death. That was my choice to make.
Knowing what I did now about him, it would be like selling my soul to the devil.
I was still hoping beyond hope for a third option to present itself.
Soon would be good.
I heard something heavy and metallic clang against the ground close by, then felt a shove at my back and I staggered forward, going over on my ankle as I tripped on something. My right ankle twisted and pain shot up my leg as I fell, hitting the ground hard. Instead of shouting out in pain, I yelled with anger, almost a war cry, and I forced myself to get back up on my feet.
The beeping from my implant was disorienting me, and I had to take a moment to steady myself, hands out at my sides.