Michelle Maddox - Countdown

"Who?"

"Colin. The guy from the mall, remember? I've been friends with him for years. He's totally into computers. This.. this place … I know it because he wears the logo on a T-shirt. It's an underground computer gaming network. He hangs out there for hours, sometimes days."

Rogan didn't look convinced. In fact, he looked rather disappointed as he stared at the business card. "A computer gaming network? How in the hell is that supposed to help us?"

I shook my head. "No idea."

"Maybe it's a mistake. Maybe Jonathan gave me the wrong card to throw me off so I wouldn't get in his way. Hell, maybe he didn't have a plan to stop Gareth in the first place."

I touched his arm to stop him from walking. "We can check it out. Maybe Colin will know something."

He looked grim. "Yeah, maybe."

"Considering that your other option at the moment is storming into one of the biggest office buildings in the city and trying to take out the CEO by force, I'd say this is something that we look into. I don't suppose you're on the VIP list at Ellis Enterprises anymore, are you?"

'To say the very least. In fact, they'd probably shoot me on sight."

I nodded firmly. 'Then let's go to this place and hope like hell that Colin's there. If anything seems off then we're out of there."

He didn't say anything for so long I was sure he was going to argue with me some more. "Fine." His forehead creased. "I still think it was a bad move for you to jump off that shuttle, Kira. But… but thank you."

I nodded and ran my hand down his tense, muscled arm. "Oh, and just for the record, Rogan?"

"Yeah?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I really don't think we should have gotten out of bed so soon." I moved my fingers up to his hair and pushed it off his worried face. "I'd say that things were pretty great up until then."

He let out a small bark of a laugh. "Yeah, I have to agree with you there."

I put my arms around him and pulled him close to me in a tight hug. His heart beat fast and loud, keeping pace with my own. He kissed me, and for just a moment I was very glad I jumped off that shuttle.

Then suddenly we were jostled and I had to break my hold on him.

"Watch where you're walking," an old man snapped as he gave us the evil eye. "Get off the sidewalk and get a room. Damn useless kids."

Rogan raised an eyebrow. "See, he doesn't think I'm old."

'The man has to be over a hundred."

"Still." He leaned over and kissed me again lightly on the lips, and it burned right through me.

After a moment I pulled back and felt the reality of the situation settle over me. "We need to get going. I know the place is right around the corner from here."

He nodded. "Then lead the way."

Years ago, kids used to get together and play networked video games in secret underground locations, staying for hours and hours working their way through the levels- fighting against one another or working in teams to accomplish their digitized goals.

Not that much had changed, really. Ever since the plague, new technology available to the general public had come to a virtual standstill, so the same sort of games were as popular as they were two and a half decades ago.

Colin was one of those kids, bringing his laptop computer to his secret gaming headquarters to get plugged in. He always bragged to me about how amazing he was and how nobody could beat him. He was a god among gods when it came to kicking ass and taking names in the digital jungle. At least, according to Colin himself.

I never listened too much to him. I never liked or hated computers. To me they were freaking boring.

That was before a walking, talking computer put a bullet in my leg.

I was ready to take a stand and say that I didn't like them too much anymore.

"Here." I nodded when we got to the location on the business card almost an hour after leaving the safe house. The front door had no marking other than the H logo on the door. I remembered now. According to Colin, who wore a T-shirt with the same thing, it was the Hagalaz, a rune symbol for "controlled chaos."

Welcome to the Secret Society of Computer Geeks, I thought.

Rogan nodded, pushed the door open, and we went inside.

I still had hope, but it was waning a bit with every passing minute. How in the hell was a place like this supposed to help us? What was Jonathan's purpose for giving us that business card? It didn't make any damn sense. I was hoping it would start to make sense soon or we were going to be shit out of luck.

I didn't want Rogan to get killed trying to assassinate Gareth.

Hell, I didn't want to get killed.

But Gareth had to be stopped. Some way, somehow. There was no other choice.

And the nerdy guy playing the video game on his laptop in the corner of a dark basement at the bottom of a skanky flight of stairs might just be the person to help us stop him.

However, I could be very wrong.

The only light in the basement came from the flickering screens of ten computers. All of the guys-a quick scan told me that they were all of the male persuasion- faced the four walls spread along a jutting table that spanned the circumference.

Any socializing was on-screen. Each monitor showed a different piece of the digitized action. Each player was fitted with a visor that hooked into his computer. Colin told me once that he owed a small fortune to the owner of the place for the extra equipment, but it made everything seem more real-like he was really playing a game of life and death.

Having experienced the real deal, I had to say that playing for your life wasn't all that much fun.

There was a stale smell in the basement of sweat, along with something sweet and a little sickening, and a very faint odor of urine.

Lovely.

I didn't always stay in the nicest, cleanest places, but this was definitely not even up to my low standards. In fact, I would rather never see what might be crawling around in here if they ever turned on the overhead lights.

"Nice place," Rogan whispered to me, and I felt his hand at my waist as he surveyed the room. "You come here often?"

I gave him a look over my shoulder. "Oh, yeah. This is really my kind of place."

"There's your friend." He nodded in the direction of a hunched-over Colin with his back to the stairwell.

"Wait here," I said to him. "Or somebody might recognize you."

"No, wouldn't want that."

I thought he might be insulted by what I'd said, but instead he sounded vaguely amused. I felt his fingers tighten at my waist and then he released me. The floor was carpeted and seemed a little squishy as I walked across it in my boots. I glanced back at Rogan while I moved through the dark room-but not dark enough to trigger my phobia. As long as I could see what was going on around me, then I was fine.

Colin was completely focused on his computer screen. His hands, encased in cybergloves, moved as he worked his way through the game. I could see it on the screen. His computer persona was walking through a darkened hallway with dirty walls. Doors appeared to either side as he moved along. I could see the tip of a weapon at the bottom of the screen. A big gun, maybe even a flamethrower. I wasn't sure.

Despite my disinterest in the gaming world, I recognized the game as one called "Anarchy." Apparently everybody played it. It had something to do with the bad guys trying to take over the world and the good guys trying to stop them.

But first you had to decide which side you wanted to play for.

I wondered what Colin would think about The Countdown.

"Colin." I reached forward and closed my hand over his shoulder and shook him lightly.

He shot up in the seat and let out a hoarse scream. Onscreen, the door in front of the computer-Colin burst open and I could see the outline of a figure who immediately opened fire. Digital blood trickled down from the top of the game screen.