Michelle Maddox - Countdown

The grim expression on Jonathan's face was not setting my mind at ease.

"I see." He rubbed his fingers against his small black goatee, his forehead furrowing into a deep frown.

"You see what?" I looked over at the door. Was Rogan still waiting outside? Had those men taken him away? He couldn't have gone too far, since my implant wasn't giving off a signal.

Jonathan didn't say anything for so long that my anxiety grew into a tight, dark ball in my stomach.

"You see what?" I said again, louder this time.

"It is not my place to say. In fact, I've stayed with you too long already. I was to check your leg and inform you that the next level is a reward level."

"I don't care about any reward unless it's a shuttle to Offworld and out of this game." My voice had gone shrill and harsh. "What are you keeping from me? What do you know about Rogan?"

He shook his head. "I should say nothing else, Kira. Time is running out. I must leave soon."

I touched his arm and forced my gaze to soften. I commanded myself not to cry. "I got a read on you, Jonathan. I know you're a good man inside, no matter what this Gareth guy is making you do. But if there's something I need to know about Rogan … He's … he's not really guilty of those horrible crimes, is he?"

I was afraid to ask the question and open myself up to the potential that I'd been an idiot to trust him, to trust my heart, which told me that he wasn't evil or capable of such terrible things. I felt something for him. I knew it was fast, but I felt a … a softness for Rogan. My heart, which had been closed up tight ever since my family had been murdered, had opened up just a little. I believed in him. I wouldn't believe in an evil man.

"I knew Rogan," Jonathan began, "before any of this insanity began. We were friends once."

"I knew you knew each other," I said. "I could tell earlier, when you helped him with his wound."

He nodded curtly and began pacing the sterile white room, wringing his hands in front of him. "We were both only children when his parents died and he was sent to live with an uncle. The uncle … he wasn't a good man. His cruelty led Rogan to experiment with Kerometh as an escape from the abuse."

I inhaled sharply. Kerometh had been the drug of choice ever since the plague. Expensive, but easy to acquire, easy to take. I'd never personally experimented with it, but I'd heard that it put you into a state of disorientation. A deep, mindless bliss. But it lasted only a short time-a few hours, tops. After that you immediately plunged into the painful withdrawal that could last weeks unless you got another hit. If you didn't, then violence and anger- they called it Kerometh fury-took over.

"There's a reason you were chosen to be Rogan's partner, Kira," Jonathan said, his expression twisting into one of pain.

I shook my head. "He didn't kill those girls. He couldn't have." I swallowed hard past the thick lump in my throat. "Please don't tell me he was lying to me."

Jonathan shook his head. "No … he was telling you the truth. The murder of those nine poor girls was not his doing. He was charged and convicted of it, but he didn't do it."

I let out the breath I hadn't even known I'd been holding, and a great sense of relief flooded over me. "He's innocent?"

Jonathan was so still I thought that somebody might have hit his pause button. "He's innocent of those murders, Kira, but he is a murderer."

Something in his tone made me tense up. 'The … the robot said that he'd killed two inmates. But it was in self-defense."

Jonathan shook his head. "There are more."

I shook my head. I didn't want to hear what he was going to say next.

"Kira," Jonathan continued, his face a study in despair, "I know you've grown to care for him. That's why it's vital that I tell you this now, before it's too late. You have the right to know." He hesitated, as if summoning something inside of himself to speak the words that followed. "While he was in the throes of Kerometh fury seven years ago, Rogan … Rogan is the man responsible for murdering your family."

The silence that followed that statement was deafening.

"What?" I managed. My heart pounded, a thundering sound in my own ears.

"He murdered your mother, father, and sister. They were not the first or last of his victims that night. He doesn't know that you were connected to this act at all. He'd never seen you before you met at the beginning of The Countdown. His mind is clear now from spending these past four years in prison. He's drug-free. I'm not even sure if he'd be capable of murder anymore, but it doesn't change the past."

"What?" I was crying now the tears that I'd held inside so long. Sobbing hard and rocking back and forth, feeling just this side of crazy. I felt as if my entire life had just imploded and taken everything I knew with it.

It made sense. It made such horrible sense. Of course that was why they made us partners. Of course.

Rogan, the man with the beautiful ocean-colored eyes, the man my gut told me was innocent, the man I'd wanted to kiss so badly my lips burned, the man I'd believed in heart and soul even after knowing him only such a short time.

He killed my family and took everything from me. He should have killed me, too. I wished he had.

I'm a very bad man, Rogan had told me only minutes ago. If you knew the truth about me, you wouldn't be looking at me like that. You'd hate me. And you'd sure as hell not want to kiss me.

He killed my family.

Still, something deep inside of me refused to believe it. No. It's not true. Jonathan's lying to you. They're all lying to you.

I rocked back and forth for a long time, my knees against my chest, and I hugged them tightly against me.

Jonathan, the man my flex had revealed to be truthful and honest and filled with guilt about the job he had to do, patted my back and gently wiped my tears away.

"I'm sorry, Kira. I probably shouldn't have told you, but I could see you growing closer to him. Too close. I cared for him once myself, but after the Kerometh … the Rogan I knew was gone forever. He may not have killed those girls, but he did deserve to go to Saradone, you see? You don't deserve any of this, and I'm so sorry. All I can tell you is what I told you before…." He trailed off.

I waited for him to continue, but he didn't. I raised my head. "What?"

He cleared his throat before he spoke again. "Only one of you has to live to the end of The Countdown," he told me, stony-faced. "If Rogan dies it won't be held against you. You'll still get your ticket to Offworld. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

I just stared at him. "I… I think so."

He nodded and took out a small black remote control from his pocket. It had a series of red and yellow buttons on it. "I'm very glad to hear it."

"Wh-what's that?"

His face was set in grim lines. "This device is connected to your implant. Now that I've determined you have healed enough, I'm afraid we must continue on to the reward level. Are you ready, Kira?"

I shook my head. "No, I just need a little time. Just a little-"

"I'm sorry," he said, and pressed a button. "It's already begun."

Everything went black.

I woke but still saw only black. I was wearing a blindfold and my hands were bound behind my back. I stifled a whimper.

Dammit. I hated the darkness. I hated it.

I willed myself to stay as calm as possible and concentrated on the announcer's voice in my head. The one whom I'd come to despise, although it was the only thing at the moment keeping me from freaking out.

"Yesterday in Level Three," he said, "Kira received a bullet wound to her upper femur. Without proper medical intervention she would have died from blood loss. She has now recovered enough to continue.