Countdown

ticket to Offworld. Do you understand what I'm telling you?'

I just stared at him. 'I… I think so.'

He nodded and took out a small black remote control from his pocket. It had a series of red and yellow buttons on it. 'I'm very glad to hear it.'

'Wh-what's that?'

His face was set in grim lines. 'This device is connected to your implant. Now that I've determined you have healed enough, I'm afraid we must continue on to the reward level. Are you ready, Kira?'

I shook my head. 'No, I just need a little time. Just a little-'

'I'm sorry,' he said, and pressed a button. 'It's already begun.'

Everything went black.

LEVEL FOUR

CHAPTER EIGHT

I woke but still saw only black. I was wearing a blindfold and my hands were bound behind my back. I stifled a whimper.

Dammit. I hated the darkness. I hated it.

I willed myself to stay as calm as possible and concentrated on the announcer's voice in my head. The one whom I'd come to despise, although it was the only thing at the moment keeping me from freaking out.

'Yesterday in Level Three,' he said, 'Kira received a bullet wound to her upper femur. Without proper medical intervention she would have died from blood loss. She has now recovered enough to continue.

'She has performed to an exceptionally high level, and the producers of The Countdown are thrilled with your reaction to her and realize you are hungry for more information about our first ever female competitor.

'Kira Jordan is twenty-two years old. Some of her interests include long walks on the beach and wearing sexy lingerie. It excites her to know that you, as subscribers, are watching her every move as part of The Countdown, as she and her handsome but deadly partner, Rogan Ellis, fight for their lives in the anticipation of winning the game.

'On the streets since she was fifteen, Kira has survived as best she could using her brain and her body to get what she needed to survive. Desperate and destitute at the age of fifteen, she decided to use that body to aid her survival. This is a path taken by many lost girls, and it's a story that typically ends in tragedy. Prostitutes rarely trick only once, and even if they have a pimp to protect them, they could be beaten or murdered. At the very least they usually succumb to Kerometh addiction.

'The client Kira found on her darkest day was an older man in search of a young girl-a lawyer who was the lead partner at his firm. His wife had already gone to Offworld and he was to join her in the days to follow. Little did Kira know that he planned to kill and dismember her-a hobby that he'd recently developed-after their sexual tryst.

'However, after a few initial gropes, Kira decided that a life of prostitution was not for her. When she rebuked his actions he struck her and she fell to the floor, where he prepared to take her forcibly.

'The lawyer's wife collected priceless antique china. A bowl had fallen to the floor next to Kira's prone form. While the man was distracted by attempting to force her legs apart, she curled her fingers around the bowl and swung it toward his head, an act that succeeded in knocking him unconscious.

'Before Kira fled the scene, she searched the man's body for his wallet and took all the money that was there, which amounted to just under thirty dollars.

'The altercation was recorded by security cameras the wife had installed to catch her husband, whom she suspected to be cheating. She had no idea that she was married to a demented murderer who was to become, four years later, a formidable contestant on The Countdown. He made it all the way to Level Five before being eliminated.

'Through this event, Kira Jordan realized that stealing would help her live to face the next day. To fight for survival in a dying world. It has also led her here, to this very moment, to the next level of… The Countdown.'

The blindfold was ripped from my face and I blinked. The skies were darkening with an approaching storm. A fork of lightning arched across the sky. I felt shaken at hearing one of the lowest points in my life broadcast in a friendly, almost singsong voice. I had no idea until a minute ago that that bastard had wanted to do anything but rape me, as if that wasn't bad enough. He had been ready to kill me, too? I shuddered at the thought.

My wrists burned as the bindings were released, and I felt a shove at my back that made me stagger forward a few feet until I found myself at the edge of a building.

I stifled a scream and struggled to maintain my balance as I saw where I was.

At the top of a skyscraper. On the very edge of the roof. If I'd taken another step I would have dropped at least forty stories to the street far below.

My stomach lurched.

'Kira!'

It was Rogan's voice, and I craned my neck to the left to see that stretched between the tops of two skyscrapers was a small bridge not more than eight inches wide. It went fifty feet across between the two buildings. In the exact middle was Rogan, lying on his back with his arms out above his head. His wrists were bound to the platform.

I looked down at myself. I was fully dressed again in the clothes I'd worn before. The cargo pants were ruined with the bullet hole and dried blood on the thigh. My tank top had seen better days.

'Welcome to Level Four,' the singsong voice continued, 'a reward level in which Kira is to rescue her partner by crossing a narrow and dangerous bridge high above the city streets, and then the two must continue on to the other side to complete this level successfully. There is no safety gear for this, no ropes, no tricks. All Kira has to work with is her sense of balance and self-preservation. Should they finish they will be well rewarded for their efforts. Our competitors have ten minutes to complete this level. Enjoy! '

I didn't move. I stood in place and stared out at Rogan. I always thought that I only had a fear of the dark. Who knew about this nagging little fear of heights I'd just developed in the past two minutes?

My mouth went dry.

Okay. So I had precisely ten minutes to rescue the man whom I'd been told had killed my family and try not to fall dozens of stories to our deaths.

Splat.

I shuddered and looked around the rooftop I was currently standing on. Whoever had removed my blindfold and bindings had disappeared. I was all alone. Nobody to push me to do this. Nobody to force me.

'Nine minutes remain in this level of The Countdown.'

Fuck me.

I made my way to where the platform began-it was even narrower than I'd originally thought. I tried to breathe.

When I was ten years old I took gymnastics. I remember balancing on the beam, trying not to fall off. I'd been pretty good at it then, even been able to do a cartwheel or two. But the floor had been padded in case there were any tumbles.

That had been a long time ago.