Reap by James Frey Read Free Book Online Page B

trace.”
    â€œWe’ll go to the plaza,” Kat said. “See if we can find them.”
    â€œJohn told me to send the next group after the Nabataean.”
    â€œDon’t you think the Players are going to be at the plaza?” Kat asked. “That’s where the invitations told them to go. It’s a little late in the morning for them to be still waiting in their hotel rooms.”
    â€œYou can go for it,” Mary said. “But be aware that there will likely be a heavy police presence there.”
    There was more static, and then we heard John’s voice. “Just off the plaza is a café called Siegfried’s. Come here, Mike, Kat.”
    â€œTen-four,” Kat said.
    She handed the walkie-talkie back to me, and I collapsed the antenna and turned it off.
    â€œIf we’re just going to the plaza to wait for Players to show up, this is going to get violent and dangerous. I don’t even know where thesniper rifles are—probably back at the safe house.”
    â€œI left my gun there,” Kat said.
    â€œHere.”
    I looked around to see if there was anyone watching us. No one was. I took out the Colt revolver I swiped from the agent and handed the gun to her.
    â€œI haven’t ever practiced shooting with my left hand,” she said.
    â€œNeither have I,” I said. “But this is just in case. Don’t plan on being the one who needs to shoot.”
    She put the gun in the large pocket of her jacket. It wasn’t a great option—the gun was heavy, and it was obvious that she was carrying something in there—but at least it was concealed.
    Kat stopped someone on the street and asked the fastest route to the plaza. We followed the directions to a bus stop and waited about fifteen minutes. By noon we were being dropped off at the Olympic center. It was eerily quiet, and a sign posted at an information kiosk said that the games were being delayed due to the ongoing crisis.
    There were still a couple dozen tourists walking around, and some were even sitting at the concrete sunburst.
    â€œWho’s that?” I asked Kat, taking her good hand in mine. “The kid in the red hat.”
    â€œIt could be the Harappan,” she said.
    He was just sitting there. Not moving. Not reading. Just observing. Our eyes met for a minute, and it was all I could do not to look away. But I kept my eyes on him for a few lingering seconds, trying not to appear suspicious.
    â€œWhat do we know about the Harappan?” I asked.
    â€œThat’s where Molly, Henry, and Phyllis went. I haven’t read his dossier. He killed Henry and Phyllis.”
    There was another possible Player sitting on a patch of grass beneath a large pine. She didn’t appear to be paying any attention to us, or to the Harappan. She was just reading a book casually and calmly.
    â€œWho’s left?” I asked.
    â€œWell,” Kat said, thinking. “The Harappan. The Donghu. Nabataean. Sumerian. John was supposed to take the Olmec and Walter was going after the Shang. Agatha didn’t spot the Aksumite at all yesterday; Rodney, Jim, and Julia are likely dead. They never came back. Who am I forgetting?”
    â€œWe got the Minoan, and we know the Mu, Cahokian, Koori, and La Tène are dead. That’s everybody.”
    â€œAnd we’re cut in half. We don’t know where most of our group is.”
    A door to a café—a café that was closed—opened and we saw John. He waved to us, and we turned and went toward him, leaving the possible Players in the plaza.
    â€œHey, guys,” he said as we got close. He looked awful. Exhausted, sweating, and covered with little droplets of blood.
    â€œWhat’s going on?”
    â€œWe tried to get you on the radio. We have the Aksumite.”
    I frowned. “I thought the Aksumite didn’t come.”
    â€œThat’s what we thought,” he said, closing the door behind us. He was out of