Countdown

'When we were out there with that robot thing … you looked at me and asked if I believed everything I saw on the news.'

He looked away, his mouth forming a thin line. 'Yeah.'

'What was that supposed to mean?'

'Nothing. I was stalling for time. Didn't work. The bastard shot you anyhow.' He moved away as if he were going to stand up from the bed. 'You said no, right? That you didn't believe everything the news says.'

'That's right. I don't.'

I reached up and grabbed his shirt to force him to look at me. Being the messed-up mass of emotions I currently was embodying, there were now tears on my cheeks again.

Smile, cry, smile, cry.

Pick one.

'I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to tell me the truth. You hear me? The truth. And I want to hear it from you.' I sounded surprisingly strong for somebody stuck on her back with a bullet just pulled from her leg.

'What?'

'Did you do it?'

His eyes narrowed. 'Do what?'

'What they said you did.'

His jaw clenched and he looked away. 'I'm going to check on what the hell is taking them so long-'

I grabbed for a tighter hold of his shirt. If he was getting up, he was taking me with him. 'Those nine girls. Did you murder them like they said you did? And the three counts of rape? Is that true? I don't believe you did it, but I want you to tell me. God damn it, Rogan. Tell me the truth.'

He blinked. 'You … you don't believe it?'

I shook my head. 'No.'

His face was so tense it looked like it might shatter. 'No one's ever questioned whether or not it's the truth before. Everyone just assumes I'm guilty as sin. Why wouldn't you?'

'Because they're the scumbags who plucked me out of my normal life and are trying to kill me in their stupid game. Why would I believe anything they tell me?'

He was silent for a long time, and then: 'I'm a very bad man, Kira.'

I slid my fingers into his dark hair. 'Just being a bad man doesn't necessarily mean that you did what they said.'

He licked his lips and wouldn't meet my eyes.

'Just tell me,' I said. 'It's simple, really. You either did it or you didn't.'

He shook his head. 'Nothing's simple. Nothing in my life has ever been simple.'

'Did you rape them? Three of those girls?' I said it so softly I was surprised he heard me.

I watched a tear slip from his left eye, tracing the line of his scar. 'No. I've never raped anybody. Ever. I swear to you.'

'Did you kill them?'

'No.' He shook his head as he met my gaze-his filled with so many conflicting emotions I couldn't even begin to pinpoint them all.

But it didn't matter. I felt a huge weight lift off my chest. Even without using my flex, I trusted my ability to read people's faces. Some liars managed to still get past me, but they were few and far between.

Rogan wasn't lying. I would bet my life on it. In fact, I think I already had.

'You believe me,' he said very softly. 'You don't know how much this means to me, Kira.'

'Why would they say that if it wasn't true?' I asked. 'Why would you let them?'

'It's complicated.'

My gaze softened, and I touched his face, tracing my index finger gently along his scar. 'So you went to prison for something you didn't even do?'

He swallowed hard and took my hand in his. 'I told you already. I'm a very bad man. 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.'

I shook my head and twisted my fingers into his hair to draw him closer to me. 'Tell me, Rogan. I promise I won't hate you.'

Just then the door opened to my right and Jonathan walked in. Two men dressed all in white accompanied him but stayed by the door while he approached my bed. I tensed and Rogan straightened up. My hand fell to my side.

'You're awake,' he said, and then adjusted his wireframe glasses.

I glanced at Rogan, then back at Jonathan. 'You're very observant.'

He smiled. 'I'm to tell you that your next level is a reward level. Should you complete it successfully, you will receive something very special.'

We both looked at him blankly.

He cleared his throat. 'Rogan, would you mind giving us a few moments alone?'

Rogan's expression tensed. 'I'd rather stay here.'

Jonathan's smile grew. 'To protect her from me?'

'Maybe.'

'Trust me, that won't be necessary.' He paused. 'I really would prefer you leave of your own free will because I asked nicely, Rogan. If not, then there are other methods I can use to remove you from the room.'

The silent white-clad men stood at the doorway with their arms crossed.

'It's okay.' I touched his arm to find that it was tensely corded muscle.

He met my gaze and nodded once, then rose from the side of the bed and, with a last look at Jonathan, one edged with warning, he brushed past the men.

With a nod from Jonathan, they, too, left the room, closing the door behind them.

We were alone.

'Who are you?' I asked after a moment had gone by.

'We already met earlier. Jonathan, remember?'

I rolled my eyes. 'I remember vividly everything that's happened. Consider it all burned into my brain forever, but it still doesn't explain a damn thing.'

The smile still played on his lips, and I was finding it annoying, to say the least.

'What's so funny?' I demanded.

'You are, Kira.'

'Is that so?' I straightened up in the bed, my fists unconsciously curling tightly beside me.

'Don't take it as an insult. I mean it as a compliment.' The smile faded around the edges and I noticed that it didn't include his eyes. They were very serious. 'Most normal women would not have lasted as long as you have in The Countdown. When you were chosen to play I had my doubts, but they are dissipating with every passing level.'

'Normal women?'

He spread his hands. 'We've had men play, exclusively. Criminals who are accustomed to a life of struggle and violence, whom no one would miss should they be … unsuccessful. Some rise to the challenge and others crumble under the pressure to perform or face the consequences of failure. We've never had a female competitor before.'

'Why was I the lucky chosen one? I'm sure there're a lot of women in prison who would have jumped at the chance to come on this reality TV show from hell.'

'Is that what you think this is? A reality TV show?'

'Isn't it?'

'This competition may bear a slight resemblance to the television programs available decades ago, but that was then and this is now. The Countdown is nothing like those innocent survival games.'

I glared at him. 'Yeah, Rogan was telling me something about 'elimination' meaning death. And that robot guy put a bullet in my leg to prove it.'