said. âHow do we even know weâre going in the right direction?â
âBlood,â John said simply, and pointed at the roadway. âThe Sumerian is bleeding.â
I hadnât noticed, but now that I was looking for it, I could spot it on the street. Not a constant trail, but every ten steps or so there was a drop. As we went farther, the drops got bigger, more the size of smallish puddles. And then they turned into small, patterned impressions, like the blood was now on the bottom of his shoe. He would have to stop somewhere soon and wrap the wound, butâ
Maryâs face came back to me, unexpectedly, filling my mindâjust that image of her broken face, a face that I had kissed so many times. A girl who I once thought was mine. Iâd been wrong. Sheâd played me for a fool, but I had still loved her. And now all I could see was her lifeless body, the gaping hole in her cheek.
I looked over at Kat, who glanced back at me and gave a weary smile.
The trail took us out of the Olympic Village and into the streets of downtown Munich.
âLook,â Kat said, pointing down a side street to where an ambulance was parked, surrounded by paramedics and one police officer. There was the Sumerian, sitting up, his back against the stone foundation of an old government building.
âDamn it,â John said. âShit.â
âWhat?â I asked.
âThe trail only leads to him. We donât know where the others are.â
âIs he alive?â Kat asked.
We looked down at him, waiting for some movement. The Sumerian lifted a hand wearily.. He seemed to be desperately signaling for help.
John immediately started walking toward the emergency team, and Kat and I followed.
âWhat are we doing, John?â I asked. âThereâs a cop there.â
âWe have to kill all the Players,â he said, anger in his voice.
âYeah,â I said, âbut wonât it be easier to track him down at the hospital? Besides, look at himâheâs not going to make it much longer anyway. We should go after the others.â
âDonât talk,â he said, and put a finger to his lips.
I exchanged a look with Kat and let go of her hand, getting ready in case I needed to pull the gun from my waistband.
âThe Nabataean and the Harappan canât be far. Theyâre trying to kill the Sumerian too, remember.â
I nodded. The two of them seemed the calmest under pressure. I didnât imagine one of them would run from the other. Theyâd face off, sword versus spear, somewhere nearby. An alley, maybe, or a parking garageâsomewhere out of the way, out of sight.
I didnât know what John expected to do here. Katâs hand was red with blood and the paramedics would likely want to treat her too. And the cop would be suspicious of the three of us.
If there was anything helping us today, it was the hostage crisis with the Palestinians and Israelis. The police probably had a lot of manpower surrounding the Olympiansâ apartments, which would take a lot of cops off the streets. They were overwhelmed and couldnât chase Players across the city.
âWhere are we going after this?â Kat asked.
âWeâre going to find the other two,â I said.
âThatâs not what I meant. I mean when weâre done today. Where arewe going? Not back home.â
âYou speak German,â I said. âWe could stay here.â
âHow about England?â she said. âForge some forms and get student visas.â
âIf weâre going to forge papers anyway, letâs just get our citizenship.â
John again told us to be quiet. âKat, talk in German. Pretend to be tourists.â
We were only twenty yards from the cop, and he turned to look up at us.
âGeh weg,â he said. âDies ist ein Tatort.â
âWir suchen für den Olympic plaza,â Kat replied.
âGehen Sie weg; oder
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