Michelle Maddox - Countdown

"Oh, well." I tried to sound as bored as I could when my heart was beating so fast I was afraid he'd be able to hear it. He didn't believe that I had my flex. I was surprised Jonathan hadn't confirmed that to him yet.

"So all you have is your ability to compete on The Countdown. You should be thanking me."

I blinked. "Thanking you? You're kidding, right?"

"You dream of going Offworld. With your means and background, winning The Countdown is the only way you'll ever achieve that goal, and my brother's only chance to stay out of prison."

I gripped the side of the table so hard my fingers felt numb. "Why did you frame Rogan for something he didn't even do? Something so horrible. There had to be another way, you heartless bastard."

"We're not talking about Rogan, are we? We're talking about you."

I bit my lip. "Whatever."

"But now that you brought him up, I have a little proposition for you. Something that, now that the two of you are lovers, will make for an interesting side challenge."

I glared up at him.

He drew closer to me and I could smell his expensive aftershave. "There is very little chance of your surviving to the end of The Countdown. In four years we have had nearly eighty pairs compete. Only one of those pairs finished to the very end to receive their ultimate reward. You will die, Kira. And I promise you it won't be pleasant."

"Fuck you."

He grinned and leaned back against the table. 'The subscribers seem to like you a great deal. It may have something to do with that little attitude of yours, maybe that little body that has been bared and exposed now for all to see and enjoy." His gaze slid down my new low-cut black top. "Maybe it's the growing relationship between you and Rogan, I don't know for certain. But they like you. They want you to win."

'Then I'll win."

He shook his head. "No, you won't. You will die. In Level Five or Level Six. It won't matter. The odds are against you." He paused. "But I'm going to give you another option."

He waited until I made eye contact with him again. "Oh, yeah, and what's that?"

He licked his lips and moved closer still until I could feel and smell his breath against my face past the musky scent of his aftershave. "You will kill Rogan on camera. He's strong so he might get the upper hand unless you're sneaky. But I know you can be sneaky when you have to be. The subscribers don't like him. They believe, along with the crimes he was in prison for, that he also murdered your family, and they want you to seek revenge for this."

I frowned hard and shook my head. "But Rogan and I talked. He's innocent of all of those crimes. If the subscribers were watching they would have heard that."

He looked at me smugly. 'The audio portion of some of your little talks may have been temporarily unavailable. Technical difficulties, I'm sure. The subscribers are now wondering why you would let the man who killed your family fuck you on camera like a whore." He smiled. "But to each their own, I suppose."

I could barely control the fury that curled through me like fire. It burned the way my face still did where he'd struck me.

"I'm not killing him," I said evenly, trying like hell to keep my patience.

"If you kill him you will win the game and you will start your new life Offworld."

I steadied myself, trying to breathe normally, in and out, in and out.

This man couldn't be so horrible, could he? He was Rogan's brother. That had to count for something. But I'd never met anyone I hated more on contact, and I hated a whole hell of a lot of people.

He was sitting so close. Could I get a read on him? Could I push past my anger and frustration and concentrate enough to do it quickly?

If I had to, I would. And I did have to.

Breathe. Relax. Focus yourself.

He studied me with a small frown. "Are you certain that you refuse my offer?"

I breathed out and tried to still my mind. "Positive."

"Then we're done here. At your inevitable elimination, don't say I didn't give you a chance."

As he was about to get up, my hand shot out and I grabbed his wrist and squeezed.

Please work, I prayed inwardly.

I closed my eyes and flexed.

Nothing.

I frowned. There was nothing but darkness and silence in his mind.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled, but he didn't pull away.

I flexed deeper, peeling away the layers I found within him like a black, rotting onion. Layer after layer of darkness until finally I could see something down deep. Sense it. Feel it. A small kernel of light hidden under so much black.

:::::::::Fear::::::::::

That was all it was. Just a small piece of fear smothered under a blanket of darkness.

My head began to ache but I ignored it. Gareth's arm was tight and he tried to pull away, but my grip was too strong. I dug my fingers into his flesh and sank deeper into his mind.

There was something else there. Something small and barely discernible.

Help me.. please. … Can you hear me?… You have the gift.. maybe … just maybe.. I don't know…

"I can hear you," I bit the words out past the growing pain and opened my eyes to look into Gareth's cool blue-green gaze.

"Let go of me before I call for my guards." He spoke quietly, but his words were edged with danger.

I felt so confused. "But you were-"

Listen … please listen … please listen to me, Kira…

I stilled myself and strained to understand the thoughts, words, images, projections that slid through my mind. They were very quiet, very distant… but very precise. Each word was like a knife in the soft recesses of my brain, and I steeled myself against the pain, trying to hold on for as long as I could.

Too much money spent on research… development… greed… too much… We created an artificial intelligence program … and it was perfect.. but my brother tried to destroy everything…. There was an energy surge… and a virus…. It got into the program … then into my implant.. my prototype implant…. It took over my mind .. my life.. It feeds on the game… on the brain waves of the subscribers…. It feeds like a leech,… It wants more…. It wants to take the game and the implants wider…. Offworld… It wants everything…. You must escape…. There is a way … a safe house…. You must take Rogan there…. Please … there's no time….

An image appeared in my brain-an address: 358 Paragon Avenue. It was a fleeting thought that I had to grab hold of and pin down before it faded away.

I'm sorry, Kira … so sorry. … There is nothing I can do…. Four years and the virus only grows stronger…. It has me…. It must be destroyed….

And then there were men in white coats in the room pulling me off of Gareth, but my fingernails scored his arm enough to draw blood. I was crying from the pain, shaking so badly that they couldn't keep me on my feet. I sank down to the floor sobbing and clutching my head.

My nose was bleeding, too; the warm thickness of it came away on my hand as I wiped at my face. My head felt as though it had split open right through the middle and my brain was oozing out. I had to reach up and touch it to know that wasn't the case.

The artificial intelligence program tainted with a computer virus that had possessed Gareth Ellis for over four years stood in front of me holding his injured arm, looking down at me. "Perhaps all is not explained by science after all."

I stared up at him. Did he know what had just happened? Did he hear Gareth's plea from deep within him?

He did. I could see it in his cold gaze as he looked down at me. He no longer looked amused with me, just annoyed. He leaned over and grabbed my face in his hand and squeezed hard enough for me to pay attention.