Michelle Maddox - Countdown

I pressed my lips together. "It's not true. Besides, even if it was, it wouldn't exactly get me what I want right now."

"Which is?"

'To get out of this game."

"So that's all you want? To get out of this game?"

"Yes."

"And then what?"

Bernard Jones slipped behind the corner of a crumbling building ahead.

'Then I want to figure out how to go to Offworld," I said.

He smiled thinly. "Everybody wants to go Offworld. What's so great about that?"

"It's not here. It's a place where somebody can make a fresh start and have the chance at a happy life." I crossed my arms as I trudged along. I didn't like revealing too much of myself to this guy. It made me feel uncomfortable. "And what about you? If you don't want to go to Offworld, what do you want?"

"Revenge." He said it so quickly that it surprised me.

"Against who?"

He smiled cruelly to show his perfect white teeth. "Against those who've done me wrong, sweetheart. And it's a mighty long list."

I swallowed at his cold words. "I'll do my best to stay off that list."

"An excellent idea."

"There are seven minutes left in this level of The Countdown," the disembodied voice announced.

Rogan's shoulders tensed, and he picked up his pace.

"Wait," I said, panic welling in my chest. "There has to be another way."

He met my gaze, and I was surprised to see his was strained. "I have a theory. This guy… this Bernard Jones … he's a plant. Maybe he's not as innocent as you might think. Maybe he knows what's going on and this is just another test."

"Why would you think that?"

He shook his head. "I'm not positive. But the game … they don't bring in outsiders. They don't target civilians who have nothing to do with The Countdown in the first place. It's just not their style."

"You keep talking about the game like you know all about it."

"You're going to have to take my word on this, Kira. Just listen to me for a second. If they start bringing in unassuming civilians, then they run the risk of being exposed. The last thing the subscribers would want is to have their friends and family learn their dirty little secret of spending money to see torture and murder."

I ran it through my mind. It made sense. Even though the cops didn't care what might happen to criminals, they'd care what happened to the regular Joe on the street. The city was a dying, crumbling mess, but it wasn't out-of-control chaos.

"So you think we just need to confront him?" I asked. "Get him to admit who he really is?"

"That's my theory. I'm hoping like hell I'm right."

Before I could say anything else, Rogan stopped walking and shouted, "Bernard Jones!"

The man halted and turned around. We had walked a couple of blocks from the mall and were currently in the middle of a city parking lot-abandoned. No cars. Nobody was even in the pay booth. Dusk had begun to creep in, and the shadows grew longer in front of us.

Even from a distance I could see Bernard's wariness as he saw the six-plus feet of danger who'd just called out his name.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Just to talk," Rogan said.

"Who are you?"

"Name's Rogan. This here is Kira. We need some help."

He shook his head. "Not from me."

I turned around to look back in the direction of the mall, but it was blocked by other buildings. This part of the city was totally vacant.

No witnesses.

No witnesses except for the cameras, that was. They approached behind us, two of them, parting and moving to either side of the parking lot.

How convenient.

"Who are you, Bernard?" Rogan asked.

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"I mean, who are you? Who sent you here? Tell me what you know, and tell me right now."

Bernard shook his head. "I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

There was a sharp, discarded piece of metal on the ground, and Rogan snatched it up. He moved closer. "You have very little time. Just tell us who you really are."

"There are five minutes remaining in this level of The Countdown."

Bernard's eyes widened, but he said nothing to give any indication that he was a game plant.

Oh, God, I thought. He was just a civilian after all.

"Rogan, what do you think you're doing?" My heart was pounding painfully against my ribs.

He didn't look at me. "I already told you. I'm doing what I have to do."

I shook my head. "You can't. Please, my family-"

"Your family has nothing to do with this." He glanced over his shoulder at me and met my gaze. "I'm doing this whether or not you understand. I'm sorry, Kira. There's no other choice. Not if we want to live."

His eyes held a look of despair, which quickly closed off to blankness. Then he tore the look off and stalked toward Bernard before I could say another word.

Bernard froze in place as the convicted murderer approached, weapon in hand.

"You're Bernard Jones," he said.

"Yes. I already said I was. I don't know what this is about. I… I… don't want any trouble."

"Neither did I."

The man blinked nervously. "Listen, you can have my money. All of it. Just do not hurt me."

"Money doesn't do me any good anymore."

I'd approached on Rogan's left side, and I touched his arm. It felt as hard as I'd imagine the metal bar would.

"Rogan …" I was crying now. He was going to kill the man in cold blood like it meant nothing. I could see the determination in his eyes. I felt as helpless as I did the night my family was killed and all I could do was hide in the dark and wait for the silence.

"Please!" Bernard's voice shook as he eyed the shiny weapon. "I have a family who needs me."

"Do I look like I care?" Rogan's voice caught on the last word.

"I recognize you," Bernard babbled. "You … you're Rogan Ellis. You killed people. Women. Killed them brutally. Some while they were asleep in their beds. Lots of them. I remember seeing it on the news."

I felt a tremor go through Rogan at his words. "Do you always believe everything you see on the news?"

"Yes! You're going to kill me, aren't you? Aren't you?" He fell to his knees and shielded his face with his hands.

"Rogan, please don't do this," I managed. "Please!"

Rogan's chest heaved in and out with labored breathing. Then he raised the piece of metal above his head as if he would bring it down in a death blow, but something stopped him. His jaw twitched and he slowly lowered the weapon back down to his side.

He looked at me, his eyes glistening. "Do you believe everything you see on the news, too?"

I shook my head. "No. I make my own decisions. And you … I don't believe you're a bad man. I don't. You're better than this. I know you are."

A tear slipped down his face. "I can't do it. Fuck, Kira. I can't do it. I can't kill him. Even to save us." He was shaking. He dropped the piece of metal and it hit the ground.

"There are four minutes remaining in this level of The Countdown."

I pulled Rogan to me and hugged him tight, feeling his chest go in and out, his entire body tense.

I nodded and pulled back, rubbing my thumb along his cheek to wipe the tear away. "I know. It's okay."

Bernard was fumbling around in his pockets. He let go of his shopping bag and it hit the cement with a thud. Pieces of paper and old tissues fell out of his jacket pockets.

What was he looking for? His wallet? His ID? A piece of gum?

But then he found it.

My eyes widened as I watched him pull out a gun and aim it at Rogan's head.

He smiled, and there was something very unnatural about it.

"Other contestants have taken me out very easily in less than ten minutes," he said.

Rogan tensed even more under my touch. "I knew it. I knew there had to be a catch to this."