Countdown by Michelle Rowen

Author:Michelle Rowen [Rowen, Michelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction / Dystopian
ISBN: 9780373210909
Google: fLibmgEACAAJ
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-09-24T00:00:00+00:00

HAPPILY, HE DIDN’T ARGUE WITH ME.

We ran past the shifted sewer grate cover, and I snatched the crowbar off the ground. Rogan started toward a door to one of the surrounding buildings.

“They’re all locked,” I told him. My ankle cried in pain with every step I took. My hand was sweating, but Rogan clutched it tightly in his as if he didn’t want to let go of me.

“All of them?”

“I don’t know. I—I thought I checked them all when I was looking for you!”

Because of my twisted ankle, I wasn’t running as quickly as I could, and the other team was gaining on us. Fast. Their heavy boots slapped against the pavement as they ran.

Rogan glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll hold them off. You hide.”

“Bad plan.”

“Why’s that?”

“The ninety-foot rule? You go too far away and our heads will explode, remember?”

He swore under his breath, his expression tense. “You’re right.”

“And besides, I’d rather not stand by and watch them beat the shit out of you.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “I could hold my own for a while.”

“Yeah, a valiant battle before they cut your throat. No way. We’re in this together, no matter what.”

He glared at me. “Give me the crowbar.”

I decided not to argue and handed it to him just as my already injured foot hit a piece of gravel. I stumbled, and Rogan caught my arm before I hit the ground. We didn’t stop moving, but we slowed considerably as we turned the next corner. Another dark street with no cars. All concrete and cold stone and brick.

There was the shadow of something in the middle of the road ahead, though. Something much larger than a piece of gravel. I met Rogan’s gaze before I picked it up, feeling the cold, black metal in my hand.

It was a gun.

The show provided what we needed to finish a level. Just like the crowbar earlier. I stif led a feeling of gratitude toward whomever had left it there for us to find, which helped to manage some of the fear. At least now I wasn’t helpless.

I stood clutching the gun with both hands, Rogan at my back holding the crowbar, as Mac and Kurtis caught up to us. I saw their shadowy faces, the hiss of breath hitting the cold night air. Just like us, they were also wearing the ridiculous new black Countdown uniform—or just like Rogan, anyway. I was the only one of the four of us that looked like a slutty superhero.

“That didn’t take long at all,” the older one, Kurtis, said. He had a shaved head and thick eyebrows that met between his eyes. “Damn, she’s even prettier up close than she is on camera. Almost prettier than you are, Rogan.”

He held a short-bladed knife while the younger one, Mac, had the crowbar. Mac was tall and wiry with sharp features and greasy blond hair tied back in a ponytail. I was surprised that he didn’t look any older than me, but there was a hard edge to his gaze, and a coldness to his grin that chilled me.

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