Countdown

"Shut up." Rogan's voice quaked. "Leave her alone."

The men's taunts were making my hands shake even more than they already were, but I tried to focus. I raised the gun a little and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the wall just over Mac's right shoulder. His eyes widened and he took a step backward.

"Didn't think I'd do it?" I snapped at him. "I'll do it. I'll shoot the both of you. I'm thinking it's no big loss for humanity."

"There are fifteen minutes remaining for this level of The Countdown."

"She's got some spirit to her," Kurtis commented. "That why you like her, Rogan? Does she remind you of the women you killed?"

'That was a lie," I said. "He's innocent."

"Is that why you spread your legs for him? Did he convince you he was wrongfully convicted?" Kurtis snorted. "Yeah, we're all innocent here, aren't we? That's why we're playing this game."

"Go to hell," Rogan growled.

"We're glad to be here," he said. "And we love to watch you, Kira. We were watching when Jonathan told you that Rogan killed your family."

I went cold inside. Of course there were cameras in the room with us then. There was no privacy in this game. Everything was fair game as entertainment for the subscribers. After all, if they tuned out, Gareth wouldn't be able to get his juice, would he?

Dammit. I needed to tell Rogan about that. He had to know his brother was trapped somewhere inside that thing and wasn't responsible for betraying him four years ago.

Kurtis lightly rubbed his blade along his chest, as if the act gave him pleasure. "See, the funny thing is that your convo with Jonathan made me remember something."

I looked at him. "Oh, yeah? And what's that?"

He had a grin on his ugly face. "Just before I went to prison seven years ago I'd been hired to kill a little girl with psi abilities."

My stomach turned at his words, but I kept my face blank. "Fascinating."

He laughed. "My employers hated psi freaks. So do I. They're a dark stain on humanity-a product of the plague. They singled out those they thought were of special interest and hired guys like me to take care of the problem." His expression darkened. "Your daddy put up a good fight trying to protect you. He knew it was only a matter of time before somebody came to get you-he knew what you were. He had tickets for your whole happy little family to go to Offworld later that week. Did you know that? He managed to take a hunk out of my leg with a big butcher knife. I wasn't going to kill him or your mother and sister, but I shot them all. Unfortunately your mama was still slightly alive after I'd finished with her, and she managed to call the police before she finally croaked. I had to bolt before I got to you, but I've remembered you all this time." He took a step closer and peered at me. "So, I'm curious. Can you read my mind, you psi bitch? Can you see into my soul like they said you could?"

I squeezed the trigger, and he jerked backward. Blood flowed from his shoulder wound, although it was barely noticeable against the black fabric that covered it in the darkness of night. But he was standing just under a street lamp and I could see I'd gotten him. Not good aim, though. I'd been shooting for his heart.

He yelled and clamped a hand to his shoulder, his face contorted in anger and pain.

Pure red rage filled my vision and pushed all other thoughts out of my head. "You're the one? You killed my family?"

"Kira …" Rogan said, still pressed up behind me. He was breathing hard. I felt the muscles in his back tense tighter than they were before.

"I'm going to kill you!" I yelled, and I aimed and squeezed off another shot at the murderer.

The chamber clicked empty. I pulled the trigger again and again, but there was nothing.

Only two men.

Only two bullets.

The show had given us just enough to kill them and nothing more.

"Dammit!" I threw the gun at Kurtis, who had slumped down to his knees, staring at the blood that gushed out from between his fingers. I heard Rogan's crowbar make contact with Mac's, a crash of metal against metal, and then a grunt of pain as Rogan managed to clobber Mac. He dragged me behind him as we began to run again as fast as we could, trying to put distance between us and the two injured murderers.

I was shaking with fury. He'd admitted what he'd done so freely, as if he were proud of it.

"I'm sorry that had to happen," Rogan said, his words pinched.

"Stop apologizing for everything," I yelled, directing my anger at him instead of the man behind us.

"Here." He stopped running in front of a door, and I skidded to a halt next to him. The streetlight was angled like a spotlight showing us the way. There was a chain across it, and he whacked it a few times with the crowbar until it broke. He tried the handle and it swung open. "Let's go inside."

"I'm sorry I yelled at you." My cheeks were wet with tears of frustration and rage. I wasn't sad; there was no time for that. I'd finished being sad a long time ago, and now there was only anger left behind.

"How about neither one of us apologizes anymore." He squeezed my hand. "At least not to each other, okay?"

I nodded shakily. "It's a deal."

We went into the building and he shut the door behind us. Then I felt his arms around me, hugging me against him while I sobbed against his shoulder. He slid his hands through my hair.

"I'm right here with you. I'm not going anywhere."

I finally stopped crying and nodded against his shoulder. There wasn't much light inside, only some from a bare bulb dangling from the ceiling, but it was enough to see we were in a small foyer that led to a staircase. Rogan moved toward the door and slid the lock across about two seconds before there was a loud, resounding bang on it from the other side.

"We know you're in there!" Mac yelled.

Bang.

"Come out, you little bitch!" Kurtis bellowed louder, but there was a tense, pained quality to his voice. Getting a bullet in the shoulder would do that.

I exchanged a look with Rogan.

"He doesn't sound too happy," Rogan said.

I swallowed and tried to force myself to calm down, to breathe slower, or I was going to hyperventilate. "He killed my family."

Rogan nodded grimly. "I'm so sorry, Kira." He closed the distance between us again and touched my face gently. "I wish I could take your pain away."

I looked up into his eyes. "Right back at you."

There was a creak as the door gave a little with the last pounding.

"We'd better move," Rogan suggested firmly.

"And where do you suggest we go?"

He eyed the stairs. "Looks like we only have two options: through those assholes out there, or up the stairs."

"Not much of a choice."

"I know."

I swallowed. "I vote stairs."

"Good choice."

Rogan started taking the stairs two at a time until he remembered that I was hobbling around on an injured ankle and he thundered back down to my side. He put an arm around my waist and helped support me as we went up flight after flight of stairs. I was in pretty good shape, but by the time we got to the top of twenty-five flights, I was panting, my heart slamming inside my chest.

Rogan pushed open the door at the top and we burst out onto the roof. I sucked in fresh air until I got my breath back. He ran over to the side and looked over.

"There's a fire escape over here. I think we can climb down."

"Seven minutes remain in this level of The Countdown," the announcer said loud and clear in my head.

"What are we going to do then?" I asked him. "We can run, but isn't the whole point of this level for only one team to survive?"

"That's true," Rogan said. "But you did shoot Kurtis already. And I hit Mac really hard. You don't suppose that counts, do you?"