Countdown

I kept my weight on my left leg now and braced myself lor the next horrible thing to happen, but nothing did. It was silent then. Too silent.

"Rogan?" I said aloud. "Where are you?"

I felt for the back of the blindfold, hurriedly untied it, and let it fall to the ground. I blinked around. It was dark outside. Night. I could see a dim glimmer of the moon hidden behind the clouds and layers of pollution. Only one star could be seen, and not very well at all. The North Star.

I wished on it.

Please help me. Give me strength.

Perhaps not so much a wish as a prayer.

I looked down at what I'd tripped over. A long, thin piece of metal with a hook on the end of it. A crowbar.

Terrific. Just what I needed. So much for praying.

"Welcome to Level Five! Rogan and Kira are all rested up after their sexcapades, and raring to go on to the next level. The question is this… will Kira find Rogan before time runs out? Or will she go in the wrong direction and find nothing but death by straying outside of her ninety-foot boundary? The ties that Rogan and Kira have developed in their strange relationship-the murderer and the thief-are now more tangible as the farther apart they go, the closer to death they are. Kira has five minutes to locate her partner. The first part of Level Five commences now. Enjoy! "

The first part? I thought, my heart sinking. That wasn't fair. Now they were doing sublevels?

Cheating. Totally cheating.

Yeah, like Gareth cared about fairness. He didn't even care about the game, after all, did he? All he wanted was the subscribers using their implants as much as possible so he could feed off their brain waves.

The thought made me sick.

The sharp pain in my ankle helped me to focus.

I scanned the empty street. The darkness was oppressive, but at least I could see. The streetlights hadn't been properly maintained, and every third or fourth one along the street was dark, either broken or simply burned out.

"Four minutes remain in this level of The Countdown," the announcer said merrily.

"Is this fun for you?" I asked aloud, speaking directly to that bodiless voice that tormented me with its inane cheerfulness. "Do you enjoy your job?"

There was no reply.

Big surprise.

"Rogan!" I yelled as loud as I could, and began to limp along the street. After a few feet the beeping in my head got louder, the pain so acute that I couldn't think straight, so I stopped and changed my direction.

It was like that old children's game my sister and I played once upon a time, where we'd hide something and the other would try to find it. Warmer, warmer… colder… very cold. The warmer you were the closer you were.

Okay. Well, in this version of the game, warmer meant no beeping and I was close to Rogan; colder meant that my implant beeped and hurt; very cold meant that it was moments away from exploding.

Not as much fun as the game was in the good old days.

I tried not to think about how many ways Rogan could be hurt or injured or worse that would make him unable to respond to me. If what I'd been told about the implants was true-the ninety-foot rule-then he couldn't be very far away.

But where the hell was he?

I remembered his hands on my body. Warm hands, so gentle yet so passionate. Dammit. That shouldn't have happened. Even though it had felt so right, so perfect being in his arms, it just complicated things. This situation was complicated enough without bringing sex into it.

All contrived, too. Everything about this game was a setup-especially the reward level. I mean, I didn't know how I hadn't seen it. Food, wine, all spread out in a beautiful room with a big bed? And the huge bath just waiting for me to slide into it to relax. Put me in the mood. The whole thing had we want you to have sex with Rogan so the subscribers can watch written all over it.

And, stupidly, I'd done just what they wanted me to.

I wished I felt worse about it, but I didn't. Just the thought of him touching me, kissing me … it had been worth it. And the look on his face when he realized how much I wanted him? Just a little bit of pain and sadness had left his eyes.

My heart twisted. "Rogan! Dammit, where the hell are you?"

I'm not falling in love with him, I thought.

I'd steeled myself against that useless emotion years ago. Too dangerous. My heart was still mending from losing my family. I couldn't lose anyone else I cared about. So I wouldn't care about anyone else. It was as simple as that.

So simple.

"Three minutes remain in this level of The Countdown."

Dammit, where was he?

I slowed down and stood in the middle of the street.

Think, Kira, I told myself sternly. You've made it through four levels of this stupid game. Think.

I ran as quickly as I could, my ankle shooting with pain as I went, and pounded on every door I could. All locked. I called Rogan's name out again and again.

Nothing.

I turned around and around but there was no clue. No cars. No trees. No high wires. No platforms. All the doors were locked. I couldn't see any sign of him.

And yet my implant had stopped beeping.

That meant he was close.

My ankle throbbed. Did that guy mean to shove me so I'd twist it? The bastard. I glanced down at it, thinking I might be able to see the swelling through my new black lace-up combat boots, when I saw something a few feet away on the ground.

A sewer grate.

"Two minutes remain in this level of The Countdown."

I hobbled over to it and crouched down, pressing my fingers against the edges of it. It was awkward and heavy. There was no way I'd be able to lift it.

"Rogan," I called, trying to peer through the narrow openings. "Are you in there?"

There was no answer, but I knew he was. I just knew it. I'd never been more positive about anything in my life. If I had money, I'd bet it all.

But it was hopeless. How was I supposed to remove the cover to check?

Then I gasped.

The game had rules, after all. Structure. It wasn't a free-for-all chaos session. Gareth was controlled by a computer now-one that believed in science and logic. Science had rules.

In the beginning, we'd been given the keys to our locks; we simply needed to figure out how to use them properly. The Dumpster had the bell to ring that opened the door into Jonathan's office. The man we were supposed to kill in Level Three wasn't an innocent; he was a robot.

The game gave us the tools and clues to help us get through the level. We just needed to figure out when and where to use them.

I hobbled back to where I'd tripped and grabbed the crowbar, and then hurried over to the sewer grate.

"Forty-five … forty-four… forty-three … forty-two.. "

It took me only a few seconds to pry up the cover. After it was partially removed, I could get my fingers under it and move it to the side. It made a heavy, scraping sound against the cold, hard pavement.

I peered down into the darkness and it gave me chills.

"Rogan?" I asked, but was still met with silence.

I felt a wave of fear come over me. Would I have to crawl down into the darkness? What if I was wrong? What if I was wasting time I didn't have right now?

I forced myself to reach down inside and felt about for something to hold on to. It was warm and moist in there. My hand brushed the underside of the opening, and it felt slimy.

"Twelve … eleven … ten …"

Oh, God. There was no time. I had to hurry….