Michelle Maddox - Countdown

It would just take a moment. Just one moment of complete concentration to know all I wanted to know about my partner and I'd be certain one way or the other.

I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on using my flex.

"Hey," he suddenly rasped, and I found my hand in his as he pulled it away from his chest. "I'm out for a few minutes and you start to get frisky on me?"

I scowled at him and pulled away. "Hardly."

"Then what were you doing?"

"Just making sure you weren't dead. FYI… you're not."

He gave a short, humorless laugh and glanced around wearily. "So where the hell are we now?"

"We're in the mall."

"The mall," he repeated with a frown. "Why are we in a mall?"

I reached back to feel my incision again. "We need to get these implants out."

Rogan grabbed my wrist. "Don't do that."

"Why not?"

"You can't tamper with it or it will…" He hesitated. "It… it may kill us anyhow."

I frowned. "Why do you think that?"

"It makes sense, doesn't it?" He shakily got to his feet and held out a hand to help me up. I ignored it and got up on my own.

"You have two incisions," I told him. "Does that mean you have two implants?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Do I?"

I nodded.

He reached around to the back of his head to feel. "Maybe they made a mistake when they were digging around. Put it in the wrong spot."

"Maybe." My gaze traveled over to his shoulder wound. "What Jonathan did to you back there. That antidote. How do you feel now?"

He gingerly touched his shoulder and moved it up and down. "It worked. I feel stronger already. It doesn't even hurt much anymore."

"Why did he do that? Save you? Seems kind of risky for him to help somebody he doesn't even know. Just another convict contestant. Are you sure you two don't know each other?"

"Positive." His ocean-colored eyes glimmered, and then a grim smile turned up the right corner of his mouth. "Must be my charm. I've always been able to win people over with it. Make them do whatever I want."

"Yeah, I bet." I glanced around again. I could see the main mall from where we were, but they'd tucked us down a hallway that was roped off for maintenance. I looked at Rogan again. He wasn't hunched over anymore, so it gave me a better judge of his height. And he was tall. If I was five-seven-and I was-then I'd have to guess he was a couple inches over six feet. Also, even with all that dirt and grime he was a very handsome man. I wondered briefly what he'd look like all cleaned up.

Like a cleaned-up rapist and murderer, probably.

Shit. I was just fooling myself if I thought there was more to this guy. Wouldn't matter if he was the best-looking man in the universe. What he'd done made him ugly.

I wish I'd been able to get a full read on him, but there wasn't enough time. All I had to go on was the flash earlier-enough to make me think that there might be another explanation for what he went to prison for.

Or was that just wishful thinking?

He seemed to flinch at my appraisal. "You don't look like you like what you see."

That wasn't necessarily true, actually. But it was better for both of us if he believed that. "Should I like you, Rogan?"

He gave another half laugh that sounded pained. "Absolutely not."

'Then I guess we're in agreement." I turned my back to him and tried to focus. The mall. I hung out here all the time, and so did a good friend of mine. "Come on. I think I know someone who might be able to help us. Got to find him before that camera catches up to us."

I felt his hand on my shoulder to stop me before I got too far. "What are you talking about?"

"I know a guy, he's like a computer genius. At least, that's what he's always telling me. If I find him he might be able to help us get rid of the implants-disarm them, remove them, whatever-and we can end this bullshit once and for all."

"You think it's that easy?"

"I think it could be." I tried to pull away from him.

His grip on my arm increased. "You touch these implants and unless you have the right tools they'll explode. Turn your brain to goo that'll drip out your ears while you finish dying. Is that what you want?"

I grimaced at the thought. "You sound pretty certain. I guess I didn't get the manual when I woke up on the dos and don'ts of implant ownership. Did they give you a quick course in prison?"

He glared at me. "People talk."

I turned away again. "Doesn't mean I have to listen."

Without waiting to find out if he was or wasn't going to follow me, I made my way out of the hallway and into the mall. Finally, somewhere I knew. It felt good, like I'd been returned home. Some sense of control in this crazy situation.

Twenty-five years ago it had been one of the largest malls in the country. Nearly eight hundred stores in a complex that spanned blocks and blocks. Now there were about twenty stores still open. Three places to eat in the food court. Some people said that it had an eerie, ghost-town kind of feeling, but the way it was now was all I'd ever known it to be, so it didn't seem that strange to me. It was a place to hang out indoors; that was about it.

I glanced over my shoulder. Rogan trudged after me. Christ, just looking at him made me realize that we'd better make this quick. I figured we didn't have too much time before we got kicked out of the mall. Security wasn't all that tight, but torn, dirty, and bloodied clothes did not represent your average mall shopper, even these days, when the small selection of stores were thrilled with any potential customer. But I knew where I was going.

The food court. My friend Colin hung out there a lot. If he wasn't there, then he was at his other main haunt, some basement in the city where he disappeared sometimes for days to play networked games with other tech-heads.

I actually gave a small whimper of relief when I saw him sitting there, tapping away on his laptop, an extra-large soda sitting in front of him on the table. Just looking at it made me realize how thirsty I was. Other than Colin there were about ten people in the large food court, scattered at different tables. There was a clock hanging from the ceiling in the center of the court. The glass on it had broken years ago but had never been fixed. It still worked, though. It told me that it was just after five o'clock.

I walked right up to Colin and stood in front of him. He didn't immediately look up from his screen.

"Colin," I said.

He finally looked up. "Kira, hey. I've been looking for you. I wanted to tell you about this awesome job offer I got. You totally disappeared yesterday."

Yesterday? God, how long had I been unconscious before I woke up in that room?

"Colin, I need your help. Badly."

His eyebrows raised. "You look serious."

"You have no idea."

"Are you in some sort of trouble?"

"You could say that."

I felt Rogan's hand on my arm. "Kira, this isn't a good idea."

Colin's gaze shifted to him and his eyes widened. "New friend?"

I looked at Rogan, and then back at Colin. Rogan outweighed him by about eighty pounds of muscle.

'This is Rogan," I said. "We both need your help."

"Rogan …" Colin's eyes widened even further. "Kira, do you have any idea who this guy is?"

"Yes, but you have to listen to me…" I trailed off. I felt something then. Something very strange. A feeling like we were being watched.

I darted a glance over my shoulder and was positive I saw a silver camera slide behind the corner.

"We can't involve him in this," Rogan whispered loud enough for only me to hear. "Unless you want to get your friend killed."

Colin's knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the table. "Look, I don't know what's going on, Kira, but if you need my help, you know I'd do anything for you. But him …" His voice caught a little with fear. "I don't want him anywhere near me."