Read Countdown for Free Online Page B

hospital—or, at least, the kind I’d once seen in an old movie.
Jonathan pushed away the material that covered Rogan’s wound. Then with no sound from the murderer other than a pained groan, Jonathan cleaned the wound and sprayed it with some sort of colorless substance. The skin around the cut turned a sick shade of green.
“Ah,” Jonathan breathed, peering closer. “The knife they used on you was tipped with calcine poison.”
“That would explain why I feel like my insides are melting,” Rogan grumbled. “Because they are.”
“What’s happening?” I demanded again. My fists were clenched so tightly at my sides that my fingernails dug painfully into the palms of my hands. Instead of relaxing, I let it happen. The pain helped me stay focused.
“What does it look like?” Jonathan asked, glancing up at me.
“Why are you helping him?”
“Kira,” Rogan growled. “Didn’t you hear the part about my insides melting?”
“But—”
“I can’t play this damn game if I have melting insides. Do you get that?”
“Of course I get that. But why is he helping you? Doesn’t he work for the damn game?”
“I do.” Jonathan nodded. “But that doesn’t mean I always agree with their idea of entertainment.”
With a syringe, he injected a blue-colored solution into Rogan’s shoulder. Rogan clenched his jaw. “That should be enough antidote to halt the damage and hopefully reverse it. You’re not going to feel great, but you’ll feel a lot better than you have.” He peered at the now clean wound. “The antidote will also help the wound knit rapidly. You shouldn’t require any stitches.”
“Thanks.” Rogan pulled away from Jonathan the moment he was finished.
He seemed oddly at ease with the man—as if they’d already met.
Jonathan closed the box. “Are you well, young lady?”
“Am I well? ” I repeated. “No, I am not well. I want out of this game right now.”
“That’s not possible. But you’re doing fine so far. I anticipate that you will last several more levels.” He looked away.
My breath hitched. Could I fight him to escape from this place? If I had to? “I don’t belong here.”
“None of us belong here, Kira,” he said wearily. “Sometimes we need to do the best with what we’re given.”
“I would have to disagree with you there,” Rogan said.
Jonathan looked at him sharply. “Time has a tendency to change many things, Rogan.”
“Not as many as you might think. But time does have a way of making things a lot clearer.”
“If you say so.”
Rogan glowered at him. “I do.”
I watched their exchange with growing certainty. “Do you two know each other?”
Rogan f licked a glance at me. “No.”
Like hell they didn’t. I wasn’t that blind. Before I could ask any more questions, he turned to Jonathan.
“Are you going to get in trouble for fixing me?”
Jonathan didn’t answer the question. “We need to talk about level three.”
“I’d rather have a long nap in a comfortable bed,” Rogan said with a humorless snort.
“I’m sure you would. And you’re partially in luck. Since the broadcast is on a break, you’ve just entered a mandatory rest period.”
Rogan’s throat worked as he swallowed. “That’s not necessary.”
“I thought you said you wanted a nap?”
“On my own terms, yeah.”
Jonathan pressed a button on the wall and another holoscreen appeared in the middle of the room. The image of an average-looking man f lickered into focus. “This is Bernard Jones. He is forty years old, has been married for fifteen years, and has one child. He makes his living as an accountant. He has dreams of moving to the Colony with his family and opening a restaurant there.”
My heart jumped into my throat. Another mention of the Colony. I was starting to believe it really existed—somewhere. Sometimes I wondered if it might just be a rumor.
“Sounds like a fun guy,” I said, trying to shield my interest in the secret city. “So, what are we supposed to do, get