Dick by Law (22 page)

Chapter 4
4

130 Million Years Later

Horseshoe Bay, Bermuda

Simon Bellerophon fell back on the wet sand of the cave floor, chest burning from the impact of
Horne Shaw
's kick.

As soon as Simon landed, he scrambled to his feet. "What are you
doing
?"

"
Saving my ass
." Horne's pockmarked, bearded face was twisted in a sneer. "You're my ticket out of this!"

"Working together's our only chance!" Simon backed away, getting ready to bolt. "Otherwise they'll kill you!"

"
Or
," said Horne, "maybe they'll leave
me
alone if I leave
you
as a peace offering."

"They want
both
of us." Simon tried to sound convincing, though he wasn't convinced himself.

Horne
shrugged. "We'll see." Snarling, he charged forward, eyes glinting in the shadows of the cave.

Simon turned and ran as hard as he could.
Horne
was just a few steps behind.

The two sprinted along the curved wall of the cave, footsteps smacking the wet sand.
Their
labored breathing echoed in the space, first alternating, then synchronizing.

As they ran,
two
voices burst in from the mouth of the cave. Familiar voices, shouting in local accents.

The gunmen had arrived.

Before Simon could react, Horne closed the gap and tackled him. The hard-packed sand felt like concrete as Simon crashed down, his body pinned under Horne's greater weight.

Seconds later, the weight shifted. Horne got to his knees, keeping one planted in the middle of Simon's back.
He kept
Simon
's left arm twisted behind him, too,
and cranked it till it hurt when Simon
tried to buck him off.

"Hey!" Horne hollered in the direction of the gunmen. "I'll give you
him
if you'll let me go!"

The gunmen shouted something, then fell silent.

"Does that mean it's a deal?" Horne said it like he
was talking to himself
. "I don't understand."

At that exact moment,
the gunmen opened fire.
From
his position underneath
Horne, Simon saw muzzle flashes pop in the mouth of the cave. The sharp cracks of gunfire echoed like thunderbolts, and bullets zinged wildly off the walls.

"So much for your deal!" said Simon. "Now get off me!"

Horne got off
and got up
but didn't let go. He hauled Simon to his feet by one arm
,t
hen swung him
around
and clamped an arm a
cross
his throat.

"How's this for irony?" Horne backed up, keeping Simon tight against him. "
You
get to be my
human shield
."

"Won't...work." Even as Simon said it, he saw more muzzle flashes at the mouth of the cave.

As the gunshots boomed, Simon snapped his eyes shut. He couldn't believe he was going to die like this, in a cave in Bermuda
, p
rotecting the dick who'd ruined his life.

 

*****

Chapter 4
5

130 Million Years Ago

China

Bleeding and
bone-tired
, Grip limped
out of the
forest
, plodding into a
field of reeds
in the icy moonlight
. He'd been running
hard since
killing the two dinos back at the brook and leading the third to slaughter by the king of the dinosaurs.

Another full day had passed with no rest
since then
.
Exhaustion and his wounds had worn him down, slowing him from an all-out run to a
hobble
.

But he'd never lost the trail. He'd followed the scent of the last killer
dinosaur
through
the riot of smells and danger in the
forest
, dodging
and
fighting his way
past
every obstacle.

The trail had taken many turns,
fading and intensifying and fading again, disappearing in the fragrant cacophony of life
in the forest
...but Grip had always picked it up again. He had never let go.

And now, at last, the scent was at its strongest. The creature he hunted was near.

Grip sniffed the night air and plodded forward through the crackling reeds.
The
s
cent pulled him onward, reeling him in...talking to him. Telling him with all its myriad characteristics and fluctuations that it belonged to the exact enemy he sought. Telling him, because it smelled like his family, that he had found the last of the murderers.

It was telling him something else, too, but he didn't understand. The killer's scent was mixed with something
other than the scent of Grip's family
, something oily and putrid that he didn't recognize...yet.

Grip's heart pounded as he wound forward. He was tired and hurt, so he might not be a match for the enemy. He couldn't see over the high reeds, couldn't see what lay ahead, so he might be walking into a trap.

But he kept going anyway.
He d
idn't think about the odds or consequences,
and he
did
n't care.
He b
ecame one with the scent of his
dead family, let it carry him like a feather down a stream.

But
it wasn't the scent of his family
clinging to the killer dino
.
When
Grip pushed through a thicket of reeds
, he saw the
true source of the scent
,
staring him right in the face.

Dog-things like himself. Pups like his own.

They blinked back at him, three sets of glittering eyes in the moonlight. Three pups, shivering and whimpering, clustered around a bloody, fur-covered body.

It was the body of a dead female
. From the interplay of scents, Grip could tell it was
their mother.
He also
smelled another dog-thi
ng nearby--their
father.

And the scent of the killer dinosaur
billowed
all around them
, entw
ined with the oily, putrid smell
of something unknown
.
It was so strong now, it burned Grip's nose.

Grip looked around
for the killer
, saw nothing but the pups and a long, curving slope of banked earth behind them.
Was the killer dino hiding behind that slope, waiting to leap out at him?

The pups whined and snuffled as
Grip
limped past them and climbed the low slope
. The
killer
dinosaur's scent grew stronger along the way, and so did the pups' father's. He'd left a trail of blood and fur all the way to the top of the slope.

Grip
reached the top and
gazed
out at the scene
on the other side
.
His heart went wild, shooting white-hot adrenaline through his bloodstream.

The dinosaur he'd been tracking was there, barely ten feet away.
Ebon-skinned, bigger than any of the others in his pack, h
e roared with awesome fury when he spotted Grip,
raking the air with his deadly claws
.

Grip barked defiantly, forgetting his wounds and weariness, instantly ready for battle. He hopped back and forth on the
rim of the slope, taunting the killer, waiting for his first strike.

But the killer didn't
strike
at all
. He roared again, raked his claws through the air again, but he didn't come after Grip.

Grip stopped hopping around and took a closer look. The killer lunged toward him and stopped
,
then lunged and stopped again.

He was stuck. Sunk up to his waist in glistening darkness.

In fact, there was a whole pit of the stuff, black as the killer
's obsidian hide
.
At first glance, Grip had thought the substance was water,
its surface gleaming in the moonlight
. Now,
after the way it had held back the lunging dino,
he knew better.

The black substance
was
giving off
the oily, putrid smell that had mixed with the killer's scent. The substance
clung to the dinosaur's arms and elbows, holding him in place.
He was ten feet from the bank, and he couldn't get out.

Something else was in the pit with him
,
something covered in brown and white fur and sinking fast. All that remained above the surface was the
head
, with its
pointed white ears and lolling pink tongue.

Grip caught its scent and knew it was the pups' father. He must have led the dinosaur away from his children and into the sticky pit, sacrificing himself to save his family.

The pups' father
sank a little farther as Grip watched, almost up to his eyes. But he didn't make a sound.
He wouldn't die whining or wailing.

Grip sat
down
on the bank
, unsure what to do next.
He had a decision to make, a choice between two futures.
And whichever he picked, he would have to make a sacrifice.

 

*****

Chapter 4
6

 130 Million Years Later

Horseshoe Bay, Bermuda

Human shield Simon thrashed
crazily
in Horne's grip as bullets flew around them
in the rocky cave
. "
Let go!
" His panic
had already passed
the point of hysteria.
"
I
told
you this wouldn't
work
!"

Horne
wound
his arm tighter around Simon's throat and crank
ed
Simon's arm
even more
painfully behind his back. "Don't shoot!" H
orne
was still calling out to the gunmen as if they might cooperate. "We
surrender
!"

But the gunmen kept firing
into the cave
. One shot after another slashed past on either side of Simon and Horne. Simon knew it would be only a matter of time until a bullet finally made contact...and he, as human shield, would
be the one to
take the hit.

"Let go of me!" said Simon. "We've got to
run
!
You
know
they're not going to let
either
of us go
!
"

"Shut up, pussy!"
Horne
tightened his grip on Simon's throat. "I'm
sick
of your
whining
."

Another shot whizzed by, coming so close that Simon felt the vibration of its passing. He saw the two gunmen continue to advance with weapons raised, the whites of their eyes standing out against the backdrop of their dark skins.

The end was in sight
,
the end of Simon and
Horne
's lives. This was what everything had been leading up to since
the delivery of the wrecked pedestal for the front-loader washing machine from Strayer-Roland. Since
the court case and Judge Bartlebaugh's ruling
that Horne Shaw was legally a dick
.

Death in Bermuda.

"
Let go
!" Simon clawed at
Horne
's arm around his throat. "We have to
go
!"

"Fuck
that
and fuck
you
," said
Horne
.

Just then t
here were more gunshots. Simon fought harder, fueled by fear of death...and anger that
Horne
had fooled him.
For a
little while
,
Horne
had shown signs of not being a total dick...but he'd reverted so fully that now he was willing to sacrifice Simon's life for his own survival.

The only question now was, how much longer did Simon have to live? The gunmen were getting closer; they weren't great shots, or they would have hit him by now, but it was only a matter of time until they reached point blank range and tagged him.

Preferring to take his chances on the run rather than stand there waiting for a bullet, Simon struggled against
Horne
with everything he had.
Horne
only tightened his grip, choking Simon until he felt lightheaded.

Then, suddenly,
Horne
let go.

Simon stumbled away from him, coughing and gasping for air. He guessed
Horne
had released him to make a run for it, and he whipped around to see how far he'd go
tten
.

That was when he realized how screwed he was.
Running was no longer an option. Simon's escape route away from the gunmen was blocked.

A monster of a man
lumbered out of
the shadows
, dressed in an orange, red, and black dashiki and a leopard-skin hat and cape.
He hoisted
Horne
--big, muscular
Horne
--off the ground with one hand and shook him like a rag doll.

Simon's heart hammered
as if it were
about to explode. He was standing less than ten feet away from the very monster who had sent him and
Horne
running for their lives. The man whose soul was as dark as his skin was
unnaturally
pale. The man who'd
strangled a man to death in front of Simon and Horne and
ordered
the
both
of them
dead.

General Mobai had caught up with them.

"Hullo, Simon, old pa
l!" Mobai's voice rumbled like thunder
over the crashing of the surf outside
. "Thank you for the merry chase!"

When Simon realized the gunmen had stopped firing, he looked in their direction...but they were still marching toward him. No escape that way, either.

He
was trapped. Once again, he and
Horne
were at Mobai's mercy.

"So now I make my bones for sure, eh?" Mobai dropped
Horne
to his knees
and cracked his knuckles with a sound like
he was
breaking
a rack of
billiards. "Now I
take
the crown."

As usual, Mobai's fractured English belied his true level of menace. No one dared laugh or correct him.
Not even the big mouth who stepped out
of
the shadows behind him--
Poppa Free.

Poppa Free
, in his black button-down
shirt
with the sleeves torn off and black denim jeans,
shouted at the two gunmen. "Don't let 'em outta your sight
s, my soldiers!
Shoot 'em down dead if they try to run, y'hear?"

"I dream
ed of this moment in my head
." Mobai smiled beatifically as he reached down to stroke
Horne
's pharaoh beard with his fat thumb. "Setting the stake for my ride to power."

"This is where it starts." Poppa Free tugged a machete from his belt and handed it over
to Mobai
. "You the newest god on Earth, hey?"

The blade of the machete flashed in the dim moonlight as Mobai
took
it.
"Bringer of glory,"
he
said. "Bringer of freedom to the heartlanders of Africa."

"Freedom for us, too." Pop
pa Free grinned at the gunmen.
"Freedom for the poor downtrodden Bermudians."

"Freedom for
all
my pals
," said Mobai. "And how do I
make
that
happen
? I
need big
respect
."

"Got to have respect, General." Poppa Free
nodded
and chuckled. "There's
no
other road to freedom."

"Which is why
you
must
die
." Mobai pointed the tip of the machete at
Horne
. "If I
kill
the biggest dick, I will
become
the biggest dick."

"Please, no
.
"
Horne
's voice was on the verge of a whimper
.
Simon could hear the fear in it loud and clear.
"You don't
have
to kill me."

"You know I do." Mobai laid the flat of the machete's blade atop
Horne
's head.
"Then
you
get
yours
." Mobai winked at Simon. "You're the man who started it all. You're the
face
, the
heart
, the
judge
. You'll declare me the biggest dick in the
world
, and then I'll turn out the lights on you
forever.
"

Simon took a step to one side, considering a last, desperate dash. His plan died when he felt the muzzle of a rifle jab his back. Looking over his shoulder, he saw
one of the gunmen
grinn
ing back at him
.

"You'd better pray, children." Mobai slid the machete off the top of
Horne
's head and ran it
down
over his cheek. "Pray to
all
the gods, but mostly pray to
me
, who will be
carving
you.

"Pray there is no
Mobai
in
Hell
."

Then, Mobai grabbed a fistful of
Horne
's curly black hair.
Horne
howled as Mobai yanked him up
to his feet
by his hair, stretching out his bare neck for the blade.

Simon shouted, too. "
Stop
!" And then he did what Mobai had told him. He prayed.

He prayed
that he would
wake up from this nightmare.

 

*****