KNIGHT'S REPORTS: 3 Book Set Read Online Free PDF Page A

played along. He nodded at the Taser in his partner’s hand. “How about you subdue him?”
    “Oh yeah,” Frank said glancing at the Taser, “you’re right. That’s what I should do.” He smiled at me. “You heard my partner, Jerry. I guess I’ll have to subdue you. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt me a bit.”
    I watched the muscles in his hand flex and his finger tightened on the trigger.
    *   *   *
    At the same instant I expect the Taser to fire, I twist to the side to try to avoid the tiny, stinging darts.
    I see stars and my ears ring. But it’s not from the Taser. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck — a wrecker truck.
    Through the shattered window on the crushed side door of the police cruiser, I see my friend Booger Rat. I slowly comprehend what’s happened. He’s smiling from the driver’s seat of the wrecker that had been parked at the marina. It’s now smashed into the driver side back door of the cop car.
    I feel arms around me, and I realize Beautiful Johnson is pulling me out from the opposite side of the patrol car.
    The cop with the Taser lies halfway out the open passenger-side door, a deflated side-door airbag over his legs. He’s been stuck in the chest with his own Taser darts, the tiny wires coiling out from the red gun lying on the ground nearby.
    Obviously, Beautiful had gotten to the cop and then pulled me out.
    The driver seems adequately blinded, rubbing his eyes. Booger is trotting over to help Beautiful, jamming a pepper spray dispenser back into his pants pocket.
    I’m hoping my friends will end up in the same prison as me for this little mischief I’ve gotten them into.
    For now, I must focus on something more important — saving an innocent life.
    “I’m okay, guys!” I tell them as they try to get me to Beautiful’s Escalade, parked fifty feet back from the intersection. Beautiful’s very sweet little wife is in the passenger side. I remember that Abby was going to bring Beautiful’s SUV up to meet her husband and Booger, so they could drive it back home to San Diego.
    “You’ve done enough! Get the hell away from me. They’ll ID you — and you’ll all get arrested!”
    “Come on, E Z,” Beautiful says, “you’re hurt. Let’s get you out of here.”
    “No. I have to go back. But do one more thing; you have a knife or scissors? I need my hands free.”
    Booger asks Beautiful, “Maybe something in your car, in a tool box?”
    Beautiful is stumped. He never was much for tools or small weapons — with his huge paws, he’s always been a hands-only sort of guy. “I don’t think so. Sorry, E Z.”
    “Just let me go then,” I tell them.
    “E Z, we can’t leave you behind!”
    “No. Let me go. You guys did good. I’m leaving you behind.”
    “But, E Z,” Booger says, “your hands are zipped together. You won’t get far like that.”
    “I just need to make about three hundred yards, real quick.”
    Booger says, “What kinda shit you in?”
    The cop with the teared eyes takes a blind shot toward our voices, and a low limb snaps off from a tree beyond the curb. He’s rubbing his face with one hand and feeling the side of his wrecked car with the other — the one with the Glock 9mm in it.
    “Get the hell outa here before Officer Asshole gets his sight back.”
    I realize my friends are in it up to their necks, as I scan the stopped traffic and dozens of onlookers around us.
    Yet a little dazed, I jerk loose from their grip. “Thanks guys. I’ll contact you later.”
    I leave them perplexed, but they don’t stand around long. A couple more shots ring out, and as I dodge and dive into some bushes lining the street, my friends are racing toward Beautiful’s SUV.
    I squeeze through the shrubbery and hear the Escalade’s tires squeal as it roars away.
    With my next step, I trip and tumble down an embankment. But after quickly recovering, I’m racing back toward the marina.

 
     
    Chapter 5
    Dead Man's Bluf f?
     
    I make it back to Smokey’s