97
Thorun and I come across Vasiliki’s body, and Silke, about mid-morning, with only two keys left to collect.
“Shit,” I shake my head, “I didn’t expect anyone to target her. Did you do this?”
Silke snorts.
“With what, my pistol hands? Stupid Italian.”
I smirk and shake my head.
“Who did it?”
“The redhead.”
“The twin?”
“There’s only one redhead left,” she scowls, “The Scot has already reached the finish line.”
“Huh. Strange.”
“What difference does it make?” Thorun asks morosely. “You said we all have to die in this Game. Why should you care if Vasiliki died today?”
I consider not answering, but do anyway. Thorun has been in a strange mood ever since we left Sona, and I’m beginning to think it’s only just dawning on her now what this Game is all about, even though I’ve been telling her constantly since night one.
“It makes no real difference that she’s dead now,” I shrug, “except I think perhaps the twin made a mistake. She must have thought I was riding, and she shot Vasiliki accidentally.”
“What makes you say that?”
‘Because if I was hell-bent on vengeance, I wouldn’t waste a bullet.’
“Just a hunch.”
“You didn’t like her, though,” Thorun murmurs, “the Greek contestant.”
“No, but I’d hoped she’d be in the final challenge.”
“Why?”
“Because she’d be an easy mark.”
“My God, Cat,” Thorun wails, “is that all everyone is to you? A mark?”
‘If that was the case life would be a lot easier. It WAS a lot easier when I thought this way.’
Ignoring her, I focus again on the German.
“Why are you still here?”
“The engine needs to cool,” Silke snaps.
I walk over and open the fuel cap, closing it without saying anything.
There’s still some fuel, so she could be right.
I’ve ridden bikes for years, ever since I went on the run, and this brand can be temperamental.
But I immediately notice the rubber boot on the spark plug has come loose, perhaps due to the bike being thrown around so much. Still, I don’t tell her this.
“Was there black smoke coming out of it?”
“I don’t know,” she snaps, “it was on the ground when I got here.”
“If it cools and still doesn’t start, it’s probably dust in the air filter,” I sigh before turning to look up at a nearby building. It’s tall and will afford a good view of the surrounding township, but it’s not the tallest on the block, so its rooftop is in shade.
“We need to rest,” I shrug, heading off.
Thorun follows without comment, but Silke stays by the bike, presumably hoping it will start soon and taking no chances that someone might steal it.
Walking through dark, cramped corridors and up crumbling stairs, we finally make it to the roof. As Thorun leans on the thigh-high wall and looks around, I sit down heavily, my back against the wall, eyes heavy.
“You rest,” Thorun murmurs, “I’m going to explore this place a little and stand guard.”
Closing my eyes, I lean my head against the wall and try to take a quick nap. I can usually sleep anywhere if I’m exhausted, and today is no different, only it feels like I’ve just dropped off when I’m woken by the sound of a gun being cocked.
Opening my eyes slowly, I find I’m looking down the barrel of a rifle, and at the end of it stands judgment, with flaming red hair, framed by the bright noon sun.
‘Shit, how long had I slept?’
“You killed my sister,” Amadea says quietly, calmly. Too calmly. “And now you’re going to die.”
I swallow hard as she pushes the muzzle right against my forehead. I know there’s no point begging for my life. She has every right to kill me. If it were me I wouldn’t even bother with the conversation; I would have shot her while she slept.
‘I let my guard down and trusted others to keep me safe. I deserve no less.’
I close my eyes and nod, expecting to die at any moment, but instead of a shot there’s a loud grunt. The muzzle slides off my forehead and down my cheek, the gun clattering to the stones beneath me and firing; the noise deafening and frightening at such close range.
Almost automatically, I hurl my body to the left away from the noise and look up to see Thorun, a brick in her hands, staring down at the prostrate twin.
“Fuck,” I shake my head as Thorun drops the brick and leans down to help me to my feet. “I thought that was the end.”
“I knocked her out,” she says, her voice shaking.
“No,” I shake my head as I reach for the handgun still stashed in my cleavage and, placing it to the unconscious twin’s forehead, perfunctorily blow a neat hole in her head. “Now she’s out.”
Thorun gasps, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.
“C’mon.”
Taking her by the arm I pull her downstairs. She moves like a broken robot, always looking backwards. When we’ve finally navigated all the corridors and stairs we step back out onto the street to find Silke still sitting by the bike.
Without bothering to acknowledge her I lean down and slip the rubber boot back onto the spark plug and kick the bike into life.
‘NO!”
Rising, Silke hobbles towards me, but I shake my head and pull out my other gun, levelling it at her.
“Silke, you saw the twin enter the building and didn’t warn me. I have every reason now to blow your motherfucking brains out.”
“Oh, God,” Thorun groans, “please no. Please don’t, Cat.”
“I’m not going to,” I shrug, placing the gun back inside my suit. “But I’m taking the bike.”
Silke screams.
“You said that once we found your friend, you’d give me the bike!”
“And I did give you the bike,” I shrug, nodding for Thorun to hop on behind me.
I don’t give Silke a second glance as we take off.
“Friend?” Thorun murmurs into my ear. “So, you don’t consider me just a mark.”
“I never said I did,” I grunt as I accelerate.