Read Online Superbia (Book One of the Superbia Series) by Bernard Schaffer - Free Book Online Page A

ripping the skin right off but he did not care.  
    He limped into
the locker room, favoring his knee.   His
tee-shirt was stuck to his body and he pulled it away from his skin and fanned
himself with the fabric.   The locker door
opened behind him as Frank sat down on the bench and rested his leg.   A pill bottle rattled in his ear and Frank
turned around eagerly, frowning when he saw it was just a bottle of
Tylenol.   
    “Did you use the
last of the pills I gave you?” Vic said.  
    “About fifteen
minutes into the detail,” Frank said.
    Vic unscrewed the
cap and dumped two more into Frank’s hand.   “Take these.   It will take the
edge off.”   He watched Frank swallow the
pills with obvious dissatisfaction.   “I’ve got good news.   The Chief is
giving you to me exclusively.   No more
interference from the Staff Infection.”
    “Do I still need
to request the unmarked car?”
    “You’re just like
my wife, you know that?” Vic said.   “I bust
my ass to give her what she bugs me for, and the second I do, she turns around
and asks for the next thing.   It’s like
she has a list and her only job in life is to eliminate the next objective.”
    “Like the
Terminator,” Frank said.
    Vic’s eyes lit
up, “Exactly!   You made your first movie
reference, Frank.   I’m like a proud
dad.   But anyway, I didn’t ask for the
car.   I figure we can just double up in
mine.”   
    Frank shrugged
and slid his arms into his sleeves.   “You
realize I don’t have much faith in anybody’s ability to stick to their word
around here, right?”
    “Does that
include me?” Vic said.
    “That includes
everybody.”
    A loud,
high-pitched tone blared from the overhead speaker.   Both men stopped talking and cocked their
heads toward the ceiling.   “Attention Seventeen cars, be advised
there’s a one-vehicle traffic accident.   Witnesses are reporting entrapment with multiple injuries.   Fire rescue is en route.”
    “Shit,” Frank
said.  
    “Not our
problem,” Vic said.   “We’ve got other
things to do.”
    “County to Seventeen cars, caller is
reporting a Class Five inside the vehicle.   Two juveniles are involved.”
    “Shit!” both men
said.   Vic turned and raced through the
door with Frank at his heels, desperately trying to buckle his pants.   Vic hit the door so hard that it cracked the
cheap stucco wall with its handle.   He
tried digging in his pants pocket for the keys to his car as he ran.   “Where are my keys?”
    “We’ll take my
car,” Frank shouted.   “You don’t have any
lights or siren.   We’ll get there faster.”
    Frank unlocked
the patrol car and Vic leapt into the passenger seat, squeezing against Frank’s
patrol bag and the plastic caddie hooked onto the seat.   “Move that stuff,” Frank said.  
    “Screw it, just
drive,” Vic said.   He fumbled with the
microphone, trying to get it free of the radio.   “County, we’re enroute.   Any
further details?”
    Frank threw on
the lights and sirens, drowning out the radio dispatcher.   Vic frantically pressed the volume button,
trying to make out what was being said.   “Just go,” he said, sinking the radio back into the holder.  
    Main Street was
thick with traffic along all four-lanes.   Frank pushed the cars out of his way with the wail of his siren and threat
of his front bumper.   “Christ, don’t let
it be a kid,” Vic whispered.   “I just had
a dead kid two months ago, and I can’t take another one.”
    Frank looked at
the detective and saw that his face was white.   Vic’s lip was trembling.   “It’ll
be okay, man.   Just calm down.”
    “I just don’t
want it to be a little kid.   Please,
God,” he muttered.   “Please.”
    Frank peeled
around the corner to see a crowd of people standing around a car in the middle
of the road.   A massive tree branch
dropped across the roof, sunk below the door windows.   People parted, except for the ones who