Nightshine: A Novel of the Kyndred Read Online Free PDF Page B

significant?”
    “It could be caused by drug use or psychosis.” She hesitated before she said, “Sometimes these guys go off because they’re sick. Whitman, the guy who shot all those people from that tower in Texas back in the sixties, had an aggressive brain tumor.”
    Taske heard equal parts of frustration and regret in her voice, and saw the way she kept glancing toward the east. “You can’t negotiate with a diseased mind, Charlotte.”
    “I know. Neither can the cops.” She picked up the phone. “Dispatch, Echo one-M-seven, come back.”
    “Go ahead, Echo.”
    “Please advise SFPD and CHP—”
    The high-pitched voice from the tower interrupted her as the sniper shouted at them.
    “Stand by, dispatch.” She listened, frowning.
    “What is he saying?” Taske prompted.
    “I don’t know. Something about white willows.” She turned her head. “‘The time has come for us to go, by day or by night, down into the mysteries of death. I make my tribute,’ or maybe ‘my offering. . . .’ ”
    A shout came from the tower. “¡La Raza Cósmica!”
    Her expression grew alarmed. “Oh, God, he’s going to jump.” She shot to her feet. “Señor, por favor, escú-chame ahora—”
    Charlotte stood too far away for him to pull down, and Taske forgot about the burning, twisting snake wrapped around his own spine as he shot up and staggered forward to shield her with his body. He had his arms around her when she cried out, but not because she had been shot.
    A man’s limp body fell from the tower. At first Taske couldn’t make sense of it, until he saw the blood streaking the slack face. An instant later the body slammed into the walkway railing before it flipped and disappeared over the side.
    It seemed that the gunman had taken one final life—his own.
    Charlotte closed her eyes and turned her face against his chest. She didn’t speak, but her whole body shook violently.
    He stroked her back as he stared at the now-empty tower. Although the pain searing his back and side had yet to abate, he felt a sense of overwhelming relief along with a terrible pity.
    “I need to check the others,” Charlotte said as she stepped away from him, her voice still raw with emotion. “Can you give me a hand and get the gurney from my rig?”
    He wanted to do nothing more than slide to the ground and stay wherever he landed, but he nodded and limped over with her to where her partner and the other victims lay. Every step sent a new jolt of misery along his spine and tore at the edges of the wound in his side. As she pulled her tags from her jacket he hobbled past her to open the back doors of the ambulance. He had to pause for a moment to catch his breath before he unbuckled the strap holding the gurney in place. Pulling it out of the back of the rig almost caused him to fall atop it, and he braced his hands against the side rail as he fought back the pain.
    She has enough to deal with now, Taske thought, staring down at his whitened knuckles. I can wait until more help arrives.
    Years of stringent self-discipline allowed him to move through the pain until it subsided enough for him to breathe again. With some difficulty he reached down to lock in place the wheels on the extending frame.
    Charlotte appeared on the other side of the gurney. If anything, she looked even paler than before. “Sam.”
    “Where do you—” He stopped as he saw the man behind her, and the rifle he held pointed at the back of her head. He was the same man who had been shooting from the tower. Taske was so shocked to see him he said exactly what he thought. “You threw someone else off the bridge.”
    “Shut up.” The man jerked his chin at the open back of the ambulance. “Inside.”
    Before Taske could reply Charlotte said, “Do what he says.”
    He pushed the gurney inside and used the open door to hoist himself into the back of the rig. The effort sent him to his knees, but he recovered quickly.
    Charlotte followed, turning around at