Michelle Maddox - Countdown

"Twit," Gareth said, and it was directed at me. He laughed and, if you asked me, looked somewhat relieved. "I told you that you couldn't stop me with some ridiculous progra-"

He stopped talking and frowned. Then he cleared his throat.

I glanced back at the screen. The image of Joe was gone again and was replaced with more of the scrolling computer code.

Gareth brought a hand to his head.

"Not feeling so hot all of a sudden?" I asked.

"I… I'm not-not… sure."

I studied him. "I think maybe an antivirus is a lot like the chicken soup my mom used to make for me when I was sick with a cold. Sometimes you're so stuffed up that you can't taste it right away. Takes a minute."

His hand that was holding the gun was shaking.

The code raced on the screen.

"A big black hole," I said to him, the fear I'd been feeling slowly being replaced by a line of rage so hot that it began to burn through my pores. 'That's all I saw when I read you. You have no soul. You're nothing but a fucked-up computer program. I can't even feel sorry for the fact that you're being deleted right now, because you don't even really exist."

"Bitch!" He lurched the gun up and shot at me. "I'm going to kill you!"

I leaped out of the way, and the bullet smashed through the display screen behind me. It sputtered and smoked and the screen went black, but a small green light pulsed in the corner where the disk was. The antivirus was still working even without the display, sinking further into the Ellis Enterprises network.

There was silence for a few solid moments.

Then Gareth screamed and dropped to his knees.

"Rogan!" I called, staring across the room to where he still stood in place.

But Rogan clutched his head and his eyes went wide. He yelled out in pain, and the sound of it pierced through me like an arrow to my heart. Then the sound of the Ellis security alarm started up, so loud that I felt it like a slap shuddering through my entire body.

'The disk!" Rogan shouted. "Kira, you have to remove it from the server! It's doing too much damage. My… my implant-"

His eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed to the floor.

Then every light in the room went off as the power in the entire building shut down and the alarm stopped ringing.

I dropped to my knees. I moved my gaze around, but I couldn't see anything. Nothing. Everything was black.

"Rogan?" I whispered. "Are you … are you still there?"

I was answered only by complete silence.

Total darkness and total silence. It was like being dead. Maybe I'd died. Maybe we were dead and this was what it was like. Maybe there was no heaven. Maybe this darkness was all there was.

I couldn't save my family in the darkness. I was a coward, and I'd crawled under my bed to hide while I listened to them die.

And now it was the same. I was petrified. Unable to move. And I couldn't do anything to save Rogan. I'd killed him. It was my fault.

I was shaking, and I grabbed my knees and drew them closer to me.

There's still hope. We 're not dead yet.

I shook my head. No. It was over. I couldn't do anything. I was too afraid.

Just pretend there's a countdown, a small part of me thought weakly.

I had to get the antivirus disk out of the display screen. It was in the server. The server must still have energy and it was frying the implants.

It was killing Rogan, but he might still be alive.

He's dead.

No, I thought firmly. He might still be alive. There's still hope.

Countdown. Come on, I prompted myself. The darkness was nothing. It doesn't mean anything. It has no power over me anymore. I'd been through too much with Rogan to give up now over something like a little darkness.

I began to count down in my head.

Fifteen.. fourteen… thirteen…

I squeezed my eyes together and breathed out in a great huff. And then I pushed myself halfway up and began crawling. I wasn't sure which way was which anymore. I felt along the floor until I found the leather sofa. Until my hands passed over the gold Buddha.

Then the wall, smooth and cold. I smelled smoke, acrid in my nostrils.

Up farther and farther.

Nine… eight… seven…

I could hear my sister screaming.

I pushed the memory away.

Think of Rogan. Rogan is here. He's here right now.

Five… four… three…

The edge of the display screen. I felt the sharp edge of the broken glass of the screen cut my finger. Along the side. Yes, there. The green light pulsed dimly next to the slot I'd shoved the disk into. There was a little release button. I pressed it and the minidisk slipped out and into my hand.

I slid it into my pocket and got back down to the floor, moving quicker now. I was searching for him. Searching for Rogan through the darkness.

"Where are you?" I whispered, my voice catching on the words.

There was no answer.

I tried to picture the room in my mind. Pretend that it was still light in there. I saw where Rogan fell to the ground holding his head, and crawled toward him.

Hand over hand I felt my way along until finally I touched something. A boot. A big boot that seemed familiar. Up a calf and a leg to a hard-muscled stomach. Yes. Collarbone. Throat. Whisker-stubbled chin. Cheekbones. Nose. Lips.

My hands slipped into his hair and I pulled him up and against me. He wasn't moving.

"Rogan," I murmured. "Don't leave me. Not after everything we've been through."

I touched his neck, pressed my fingers against it. Tears of relief streaked down my face when I felt a pulse. Then through the darkness I found his lips and pressed mine against them.

A distant, fleeting memory came to me of a fairy tale my mother once had told me. "Sleeping Beauty." The handsome prince woke the beautiful princess up with the perfect kiss.

This is one fucked-up fairy tale I'm in, I thought absently.

Rogan gasped against my lips. I felt his eyelashes flicker against my face as he opened his eyes.

"Kira?" he said.

Happiness flooded through me. "Well, who else would molest you in the middle of a dark room?"

"I'll… I'll take that as a yes."

"You're alive."

"Is that a question?"

"I'm going to kick your ass." I said it sternly, but I couldn't keep the smile out of my voice.

"Take a number. I have a fucking bullet in my already injured shoulder. And my head is killing me."

"Mine too."

"What about Gareth?" he asked tentatively.

I rested my head against his chest. "He's gone. I'm sorry."

"I see." He was quiet for a long moment. "It's dark in here."

"Yeah, it really is."

"Aren't you afraid of the dark?"

"Petrified," I said.

"Just checking." Another pause, and I felt his arms come around my waist. "I'm surprised that the backup generator hasn't kicked in yet."

"Yeah. I'm thinking that Joe had a few more surprises on that disk than just the antivirus. The guy's a genius."

His fingers slid through my hair. "Maybe I should have hired him when I had the chance."

"If you had to go back and change one thing in your history, I'd say that you really should have hired him. Yes."

There was another pause. "But then I never would have met you."

My heart swelled and I kissed him again. After a moment I frowned and pulled away. "Okay, Rogan, are you double-jointed or something?"

"What do you mean?"

"How are you touching my sprained ankle right now?"

"I'm not touching your ankle."

A hand clamped down on my ankle and I screamed.

The lights flickered and then came on fully with a sick whirring sound.

Gareth was holding on to my ankle with an iron grip. He looked up at me, his eyes bloodshot, his face drenched with sweat.