Much took his bike, hoping it would be quicker to weave through traffic than nicking off with Alan’s car (and also, less of a harrowing déjà vu for Alan) and because he didn’t want to risk getting stuck on the subway if something broke down. And on his bike he could be practically in disguise, face completely hidden underneath the motorcycle helmet that made him look ridiculous on a pushbike but was also impenetrable by tranquiliser darts.
By the time Much was halfway to Marcie’s, Tragos was climbing out of the subway and back into the cold, hard light of day. His phone buzzed as it reconnected to the network and he checked his screen as he was walking, frowning a little in surprise as he saw Marcie had tried to ring him. Without slowing down he started to listen to her message and by the end of it he’d stopped dead. Apollo is dead and it’s my fault…
He’d only just left her!
He still had a couple of city blocks to cover before he got to the gym. Tragos rang her back, asking “What’s going on?” the moment she picked up.