Michelle Maddox - Countdown

That meant he was close.

My ankle throbbed. Did that guy mean to shove me so I'd twist it? The bastard. I glanced down at it, thinking I might be able to see the swelling through my new black lace-up combat boots, when I saw something a few feet away on the ground.

A sewer grate.

"Two minutes remain in this level of The Countdown."

I hobbled over to it and crouched down, pressing my fingers against the edges of it. It was awkward and heavy. There was no way I'd be able to lift it.

"Rogan," I called, trying to peer through the narrow openings. "Are you in there?"

There was no answer, but I knew he was. I just knew it. I'd never been more positive about anything in my life. If I had money, I'd bet it all.

But it was hopeless. How was I supposed to remove the cover to check?

Then I gasped.

The game had rules, after all. Structure. It wasn't a free-for-all chaos session. Gareth was controlled by a computer now-one that believed in science and logic. Science had rules.

In the beginning, we'd been given the keys to our locks; we simply needed to figure out how to use them properly. The Dumpster had the bell to ring that opened the door into Jonathan's office. The man we were supposed to kill in Level Three wasn't an innocent; he was a robot.

The game gave us the tools and clues to help us get through the level. We just needed to figure out when and where to use them.

I hobbled back to where I'd tripped and grabbed the crowbar, and then hurried over to the sewer grate.

"Forty-five … forty-four… forty-three … forty-two.. "

It took me only a few seconds to pry up the cover. After it was partially removed, I could get my fingers under it and move it to the side. It made a heavy, scraping sound against the cold, hard pavement.

I peered down into the darkness and it gave me chills.

"Rogan?" I asked, but was still met with silence.

I felt a wave of fear come over me. Would I have to crawl down into the darkness? What if I was wrong? What if I was wasting time I didn't have right now?

I forced myself to reach down inside and felt about for something to hold on to. It was warm and moist in there. My hand brushed the underside of the opening, and it felt slimy.

"Twelve … eleven … ten …"

Oh, God. There was no time. I had to hurry….

I plunged my hand farther into the darkness and touched the metal bars of the ladder.

"Rogan…" A tear slipped down my cheek. "I'm sorry … I'm sorry I'm too slow…."

Suddenly something grabbed hold of my wrist and I screamed. It was something firm and like an iron vise. It squeezed tightly. I tried to pull away but couldn't.

"Five.. four… three… two…"

Rogan's face appeared through the darkness. He held my wrist tightly in his hand as he climbed up the ladder and flung himself onto the pavement.

"Congratulations, Rogan and Kira, for completing Part A of Level Five successfully."

I collapsed to the ground next to him and started beating on his chest with my fists.

"You asshole!" I yelled. "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me it was you down there? Goddammit, Rogan!"

He stilled my hands and pulled me into a rough hug until I finally relaxed against him.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into my hair. "When you were meeting with Gareth they had me in another room. They told me that if I said a word to help you locate me they would kill you on the spot. I wasn't willing to take that chance. It nearly destroyed me trying to remain silent waiting down here. I couldn't reveal where I was until you touched the ladder." He pushed me back from him so he could look into my eyes. He brushed the hair off my face. "Are you all right? Did Gareth hurt you?"

I shook my head, then touched his cheek. "Did they do that to you?"

His face bore a red mark that ringed his left eye. Before too long it would darken to a bruise. His bottom lip was cut and slightly swollen.

He grinned, but then grimaced from the pain it caused. "Let's just say that when they make a point they try to make it a memorable one."

I cupped his face in my hands and kissed his forehead gently, then lightly kissed his lips until he responded, parting them. After another moment I pulled back a couple of inches. "On the bright side, you weren't down there long enough to smell like a sewer."

"Good. I'd rather not be subjected to another hosing down in the near future."

He kissed me again, quickly, and then got back to his feet, holding out a hand to help me up. I took it.

He frowned as he watched me limp a few feet away. "What happened?"

I shrugged. "Went over on my ankle. I'll be fine."

"They did that, didn't they?"

"Maybe I'm just clumsy." I scanned the street. It was still vacant, still very dark. The shadows and light from the street lamps slid across the road like ghosts. "Rogan, I need to talk to you about Gareth-"

I heard a sound then. A hard, metallic sound like the crowbar hitting the pavement earlier. I turned in the direction of the sound and looked down the street. In the distance I could see the shapes of two figures standing a block away. I couldn't see much except for the fact that they were large and male. The metal sound was indeed another crowbar that one of the men tapped against the ground. They stared at us, but didn't say anything.

I got the strange feeling that I shouldn't wave my hand and try to be friendly.

"Who are they?" I whispered.

He shook his head, not taking his attention from the silent figures. "Not sure."

I felt a line of perspiration drip down my spine, and my heart pounded hard against my chest.

"Welcome back to The Countdown," the announcer piped up finally, and I jumped at the sound of his voice cutting through the inky silence. "Rogan and Kira continue to make a terrific team as they work their way through every level with ease.

"We've met Kira already. Now let's give you some insight into the mind of convicted rapist/murderer Rogan Ellis.

"Born into a life of privilege and leisure, Rogan grew up attending only the best private schools in the country. His father, Bertrand Ellis, the CEO of Ellis Enterprises, built his company to be a forerunner of all things technical, including the creation of the Ellipsis computer that, just before the plague, had taken over sales of both Microsoft and Apple. His two sons, Gareth, now thirty-two, and Rogan, twenty-nine, were the pride and joy of a loveless marriage to socialite Lissa Bartholomew Ellis.

"But before too long it was evident that the eldest son was the favorite and was being groomed to take over the family business. Rogan, still a teenager at the time, didn't seem to care. His interests lay in areas of a more base nature. He spent several years in San Carolinas, an exclusive mental hospital for the very rich, for schizophrenia and drug abuse, and his family feared he would never recover enough to properly function in society."

"Lies," Rogan hissed between clenched teeth.

I squeezed his arm.

"The day he was released, his parents picked him up from the hospital to bring him back to the Ellis mansion. Rogan was reportedly irate and acting erratically, and tried to take control of the car, which spun out of control and careened off the side of a cliff. His parents were killed instantly. Rogan's back was broken in three places, and he came very close to being a paraplegic from the accident."

My throat constricted, and I looked at him.

He blinked hard. "That's how they died. But it was a slippery road. They picked me up from private school that day." His eyes glimmered under the street lamp. "My father said the whole time that he should have just sent a driver, but my mother insisted they come and get me together." His Adam's apple jumped as he swallowed hard. 'Took me a year in the hospital to fully recover from that accident."