50
Within moments of leaping the fence at John Stone’s apartment, the Raven crossed the road and jumped onto a city bus. He made his way to a seat at the rear. His escape had been lucky, and he knew it. And the fact that the bus was almost empty worked to his advantage as well. Yet now that he’d gotten away, his real trouble was just beginning.
He applied pressure to his left shoulder. The entrance wound from the .9 mm round that struck him wasn’t so bad, but the exit wound was another story. Blood pulsed from the back of his shoulder with impunity—the bullet had apparently clipped an artery. He knew time was short. If he didn’t find medical help fast, he would bleed out.
The fact that he was wearing such a dark colored shirt played to his advantage. It served to hide the blood fairly w
