The Last Hot Time Read Free Page A

head back. His face was delicate, even-featured, thin-lipped. His hair was black and combed straight back from his forehead, caught in a silver clip at the back of his neck. "Some first night in the big city, eh, Hallow? What's the time?"
    Danny looked cautiously at his watch. It showed just numbers. "Three-ten."
    "Little late to show you the bright lights, then. But you're still going strong. That's good. Night people are at an advantage on the Levee. Lincoln."
    McCain looked in. He had a broad, rocklike face, all planes and crevices. His eyes were sharp blue. When he looked at Danny they seemed friendly enough; Danny didn't want to see unfriendly on McCain.
    Patrise said, "We'll go by the club; Doc can shake some hands."
    McCain nodded and left. Patrise said, "They always treat your clothes like something dangerous. Find my shirt."
    It was on a hanger nearby. The label said TURNBULL & ASSER. As he helped Patrise put it on, he realized that it was silk. He had never in his life seen a man's silk shirt.
    Patrise fingered the rip in the shirt above the bruise on his chest, touched one of the EKG wires glued to his skin. "Shut that gadget off. I don't want them thinking I've died. Too many people have ideas already."
    Danny switched off the monitor. Patrise peeled the electrodes off, buttoned his shirt.
    "Mr. Patrise, the doctor on duty offered me a job here."
    "I'm not surprised. Lucy can see competence a mile off. I'm

    sorry to disappoint her. Don't worry 7 , Lincoln will make the excuses." He paused. "Perhaps it wasn't clear: you have a job. With me. Personally. There's no room for moonlighting." He pulled on an elastic-sided shoe. "You'll have plenty of your own time, but you work for me. Understand that and you'll have no cause to complain."
    "Mr. Patrise, this is—I mean, I just drove into the city. You don't know me, it was just an accident—"
    "There aren't any accidents." Patrise examined his slim hands, rubbed away a bit of electrode paste. "You have options, of course. You could work here. It's a nice place, if you don't mind the pay and the hours, the homicidals and the positive Wassermanns, all that. And, too, Norma Jean's family is Gold Coast, and they'll probably want to express their gratitude in a concrete way. But you'd regret it." He looked up, smiling. "That isn't a threat: I won't make you regret it. You just will." He stood up, wavered a little; Danny caught his arm.
    Patrise looked up at him, eye to eye. "As for not knowing you . . . ask me again in a month if I know you. Cloud."
    Cloudhunter pulled the curtains open, held Patrise's coat. At the nurse's station, McCain was signing some papers. Dr. Estevez waved as they passed. "Have fun, Doc," she said. "If you ever get tired of the good life, give me a call."
    They got into the car, Patrise and Cloudhunter in back, McCain driving. Through the clear glass in front, Danny could finally see the city. A long building with lit strips of stairwell would be the hospital; beyond it was the hollow concrete shell of a structure just as large. McCain turned into a broad street lined with burnt wood, broken bricks, empty windows, lit only by the car's headlights and the orange sky hovering low above everything.
    "People live out there?"
    "Not so you'd call it that," McCain said. "This is the Boneyard. The Penumbra if you're in a fancy mood. Went in the big shakedown. You saw the first big wreck back there? They blew that as a firebreak, to save the hospital. Now it's too far out of the World and the Shade both for either to care."
    There was more red in the airglou now. "It burns like this all night? Every night?"
    "Nothing's really burning. The light's something from the

    change. Witch stuff, not my department. We'll lose it once we're really inside. We're almost to the river now. Watch."
    The car climbed a bridge approach. Danny could see red light turning water to blood. Suddenly the sky was black, with the fingernail moon descending. Stars came out as Danny's