Countdown

"No," he murmured. "Not possible."

"Mac Zebowitz and Kurtis Grimm were both convicted of first degree murder, as well as a laundry list of other crimes, including mob enforcement and Kerometh trafficking. They were the two men injured during Rogan's prison rampage, and it was their cellmates whom he murdered. They have sworn revenge against Rogan, and today they will have their chance.

"Level Five is an official death match. Only one pair shall go on to Level Six, the final level. Competitors, your countdown begins at twenty minutes. Kill or be killed. And to our subscribers … enjoy!"

At last it was silent except for the sound of my heart thudding loudly in my ears and the crowbar hitting the ground in the distance.

"Those men," I managed. "They're the ones who gave you that scar?"

He nodded. "I fought for my life against them and almost lost. I was damned lucky. I never thought I'd see them again."

I stared at the dark silhouettes. "So what do we do now?"

"I'm thinking."

"Think fast."

"Rogan!" one called out from a block away. "You're ours now. And you know what? Twenty minutes is a long time. We can play with you and your girlfriend lots before we cut your throats to win this level."

I didn't want to know the details of what he planned to do that would fill that time. I was willing to bet that it wasn't reminiscing about the good old days over a beer and a plate of nachos.

"How's that plan coming along?" I asked.

"Slower than I'd like." His voice shook. "Sorry, I… I'm not sure what to do."

I moved closer to him so I could feel the warmth of his body. I touched his face. "We're going to be okay, Rogan. We're going to make it."

He shook his head. "I don't know. I… I don't know if I can kill again."

I swallowed. "What are they waiting for?"

The crowbar tapped a steady tattoo on the street ahead, every five seconds without fail.

His hand closed around mine and squeezed tightly. "I won't let them hurt you, Kira."

I didn't hear the tap anymore. I watched the shadowy figures warily.

Suddenly, with a yell, both of the murderers started running toward us as fast as they could.

"Shit," Rogan breathed, and grabbed hold of my arm, spinning around. "Come on, we have to run. We have to run now!"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

We ran past the shifted sewer grate cover and I snatched the crowbar off the ground. Rogan started toward a door to one of the surrounding buildings.

"They're all locked," I told him. My ankle cried in pain with every step. My hand was sweating, but Rogan clutched it tightly in his as if he didn't want to let go of me.

"I'm sorry for all of this, Kira," he said.

"I don't blame you."

"Yeah, well, you should. If I hadn't created the game in the first place-"

"Then I never would have met you."

He looked at me sideways and his lips actually quirked. "And that's a good thing?"

"Ask me again when we're finished running for our lives."

Because of my twisted ankle I wasn't running as fast as I could, and the men were gaining on us. Fast. I could hear them shouting from behind us, their heavy boots slapping against the road as they ran.

Rogan glanced over his shoulder at them. "I'll try to hold them off. You just hide."

"Bad plan."

"Why's that?"

'The ninety-foot rule? You go too far away and our heads will explode, remember?"

"Dammit."

"And besides, I'd rather not stand by and watch them beat the shit out of you."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "You assume they'd have the upper hand? I did kick their asses in prison."

"That was then and this is now. Besides, wouldn't want to tear your new outfit."

"Give me the crowbar," he said.

I decided not to argue, and handed it to him just as my already injured foot hit a piece of gravel. I stumbled, and Rogan caught me before I hit the ground. We didn't stop moving, but we slowed considerably as we turned the next corner. Another dark street with no cars. All concrete and cold stone and brick.

There was the shadow of something in the middle of the road ahead, though. Something much larger than a piece of gravel.

I picked it up, feeling the cold black metal in my hand.

A gun.

The show provided what we needed to finish a level. Just like the crowbar earlier. I stifled a feeling of gratitude toward whomever had left it there for us to find.

So, as I clutched the gun with both hands, Rogan at my back holding the crowbar, the men were on us. I saw their shadowy faces, the hiss of breath hitting the cold night air. They were also wearing the new black Countdown uniform. It looked much better on Rogan's tall, muscular frame than on their thick, oxlike bodies. They were grinning.

"That didn't take long at all," one of them said. He had a shaved head and thick eyebrows that met between his eyes. "Damn, Rogan, she's even prettier up close. Almost prettier than you are."

I noticed that one held the crowbar while the other had a short-bladed knife. They walked in a slow circle around us, six feet away. Rogan and I were back-to-back as we turned, keeping an eye on the two murderers.

"Mac, I don't think he has anything to say to us," the other guy, Kurtis, said. His dark, stringy hair was long, practically to his ass, and only emphasized his receding hairline. He smiled, showing off a mouth that was missing a few teeth. "Is that right, Rogan? You got nothing to say?"

"Nothing immediately comes to mind," Rogan growled.

"Did you miss us?"

"No."

"We missed you the last eight months you were in solitary. We had big plans for when you got out."

"Yeah, I bet you did."

"Okay," I said out loud, trying to keep my teeth from chattering. My arms already ached from trying to hold the heavy gun steady. "Look, guys. We're all in this together. We don't have to fight one another. Maybe we can get out of this if we work together."

Mac laughed hard at that. So hard that he had to stop walking and put his hands on his knees to support himself. "That's priceless. Where did they find this bitch? I thought Sesame Street went off the air decades ago."

My jaw clenched. Okay, so much for trying to make friends with the enemy.

Kurtis eyed me slowly, from the toes of my combat boots, up my thigh-high black stockings, to the bare skin the ridiculous skirt showed off. It barely covered the thong underneath. He licked his lips.

"Long time since I had me a woman," he murmured. "I miss how they screamed for mercy while I fucked them."

Mac laughed. "How about I let you have her first? We got time."

"Lay one finger on her and you'll be spending the rest of the level searching the city for your severed cock." Rogan's voice held no humor.

"Don't be jealous, Rogan. We'll get to you, too."

To say this was a bad situation would be an understatement. The food I'd eaten in the reward room churned unpleasantly in the pit of my stomach.

"I don't mean to interrupt," I said. "But I do have a gun. See?" I waved it. "Why don't I shoot the both of you and we end this level right now?"

Kurtis was staring at me and absently rubbing the crotch of his pants. "Kira, right? Yeah, during a rest period the show let us tune in to you and Rogan getting to know each other a bit better earlier. You give great head, honey. Made me hard as a rock just watching."

I felt bile rise in the back of my throat at the thought of him watching us.

Mac's grin widened. "And your skin's so perfect. I can just imagine this knife sliding over your neck while I take you from behind."