Dick by Law

by Robert T. Jeschonek

  He had to sink his teeth into one future or the other and not let go.

  *****

  Chapter 48

  130 Million Years Later

  Horseshoe Bay, Bermuda

  "You know what?" said Mobai. "I changed my mind."

  With that, he lowered the machete blade from Horne's throat. He released his handful of Horne's curly hair, and Horne slumped.

  "There's a better way, isn't there?" Mobai winked at Simon. "More than one way to skin a dick, eh?"

  Simon didn't respond or move a muscle. He felt like he was standing on a tiny ledge over a lake of bubbling lava; any way he moved would send him plunging to his death.

  "I was so wrongly, going to murder-kill him like that." Mobai shook his head. "What a huge mistake I almost made just now."

  "Would you rather I kill 'im?" Poppa Free stepped forward, grinning wickedly. "Or my soldiers can do it, if you like."

  "That wouldn't be right either," said Mobai. "Don't you see? We're only hurting ourselves."

  "All right then." Poppa Free shrugged and folded his arms over his skeletal chest. "Express your testimony, and we'll sing along."

  "This man has shown me the light." Mobai threw a massive arm around Simon's shoulders. "I can never thank him enough."

  Simon stiffened as Mobai tousled his hair. Then came the kiss on the cheek. Mobai planted one square on Simon's face, wet and sloppy as the lick of a cow. Simon shuddered; the last time he'd seen Mobai kiss someone, that person had ended up dead.

  "I love you for being right," said Mobai. "Turning over a new leaf is just what the doctor ordained."

  Simon stood stock-still, waiting for the death blow that had to be coming. Mobai's strong cologne and stronger body odor hung in a cloud around him, making him gag.

  Simon looked at Horne, who was standing stock still. His eyes met Horne's, but there was no compassion to be found there...just animal fear shining straight from the back-brain, the same shameless terror pulsing on his sweaty face.

  "I understand now, old pal." Mobai squeezed Simon's shoulder. "If this Dick Lord is killed by me, I take his place as World's Greatest Dick. That was my original thinking."

  Mobai raised the machete, and Simon's eyes locked on the blade. He saw his reflection in its polished surface as it drifted toward him, then away, then toward him again.

  "But you made me realize something." Suddenly, Mobai took hold of Simon's right hand and forced the handle of the machete into it. With crushing force, he wrapped Simon's fingers around the handle and clamped both his massive paws around the fingers to hold them in place. "If the Dick Lord is killed by the World's Biggest Fucking Pussy, I will humiliate him completely and forever."

  Mobai effortlessly steered Simon's hand and the machete, swinging the blade up to point at Horne.

  Horne's eyes widened, and he took a step back...right into the chest of one of Poppa Free's soldiers. The soldier chuckled as he caught and held Horne's arms.

  "Put that dick on his knees, my child," said Mobai. "And does somebody have a fucking camera phone?"

  Poppa Free whipped a cell phone out of the front pocket of his jeans and waved it overhead. "Ready for anything in the name of Free Bermuda!"

  "Film this historic event, my stallion." Mobai reached up and adjusted the leopard-skin fez atop his enormous head. "All the world will want this playing twenty-four seven on their interwebs and satellites."

  "Consider me your Hitchcock Spielberg, you Emperor you." Poppa Free held up the cell phone and aimed the camera lens on the back of its slim black body at Simon.

  "How does it feel?" Mobai made Simon sweep the machete through the air in a figure eight. "What's it like being the sword of a god?"

  Simon closed his eyes and didn't answer.

  Suddenly, Horne spoke up. "Emperor!" His voice shook. "I have a better way! Let me kill him."

  Mobai clucked in Simon's ear. "How do you like that, buckaroo?"

  "Please!" said Horne. "It will prove to the world you're my master! They'll all see you're the biggest dick!"

  "Now doesn't that make you want to kill him?" Mobai whispered in Simon's ear. "He'd do the same to you, wouldn't he?"

  Simon opened his eyes and looked at Horne. Horne looked away.

  "Let me do it," said Horne. "Let me kill that fucking pussy."

  Mobai chuckled, then shouted at the soldiers. "Let me see that pretty neck of his!"

  One of the soldiers grabbed Horne by the hair and yanked his head back. When Horne struggled, the other soldier jammed a rifle barrel against his left temple.

  "You have never done this before, have you?" Mobai's voice was soft in Simon's ear.

  "No." Simon's own voice sounded strange to him. He felt leaden and light-headed all at once.

  "I love a good baptism." Mobai laughed. "Don't worry. I will be gentle."

  Mobai pushed Simon forward and drove the machete toward Horne. Simon resisted, focusing all his strength on keeping his right arm from moving any further. He barely succeeded.

  "Don't fight me, my precious pal," said Mobai. "I know you can do this. I know your secret."

  Simon gritted his teeth and continued to resist. The machete held steady, but he had a feeling Mobai was holding back. He had a feeling Mobai could overwhelm him and finish the job any time he chose.

  "Here's the secret: I know you're as big a dick as anyone." Mobai half-whispered the words. "How else could you do all the things you've done?"

  The machete shook as Simon fought to pull it back...and then, suddenly, Mobai pressed it forward again. Simon was right to think he'd been holding back; it seemed to take no effort at all for Mobai to ease it toward Horne.

  Simon kept fighting, but it made no difference. The machete moved as if it had a mind of its own, gliding irresistibly through the dim moonlight.

  It stopped a hair's breadth from the flesh of Horne's neck.

  "There now." Mobai whispered so only Simon could hear. "Time for you to do your part, snowflake."

  Mobai let up the pressure on the machete. He kept his hands wrapped around Simon's fingers on the handle, but he let the weapon float freely.

  "I can't do all the work," whispered Mobai. "Now make me proud, pal. Cut the cake."

  Simon tried to pull the machete back, but he couldn't. Mobai would let him make the next move, as long as it was forward.

  "Do it," whispered Mobai. "This is your big chance."

  Simon took slow, shallow breaths and tried to hold still. He didn't want to risk letting the blade cross that final hair's breadth to Horne's throat.

  "No one will blame you," said Mobai. "They will see that I'm forcing you. They will think they see that.

  "Only you and I will know the truth."

  Simon trembled, and the machete twitched forward. As he flicked it back, he saw the blade had nicked Horne's throat. A single drop of blood ran toward Horne's shoulder, leaving a trail like a crimson tear.

  "This is a gift," said Mobai. "I'm doing you a favor. You can kill your enemy without any consequences."

  Simon watched the drop of blood trickle down Horne's neck. He wished Mobai would shut up and get it over with, just kill them both and be done with it.

  And yet, at the same time, part of him considered the offer. The crazy idea. Considered it as idly as the human mind considers all possibilities.

  And not so idly.

  After all, the hated Horne Shaw was at his mercy. The dick who'd ruined everything--and offered to kill Simon, don't forget--could be easily done away with, free of complications. So much for P.U.D. and the Dicklympics and The Dick Life.

  Who could blame Simon, if Mobai was caught on camera forcing him to do it? If no one knew any better?

  The truth was, Simon did want to do it, deep down. Part of him had wanted to do it since Horne had first denied his damage claim. Everything Simon had done since--the lawsuit, the book, the legislation, the Dicklympics sabotage--had been a poor substitute. All that society allowed. Everything he could do without go
ing to prison or worse.

  He'd never expected to have this chance. The chance to get away with it. He had to at least consider it, didn't he?

  "Come on, cupcake." Mobai's B.O./cologne combination wrapped around him like a boa constrictor. "Cut that dead weight loose. Set yourself free."

  Simon tried again to pull back, but Mobai wouldn't let him. The crazy idea wouldn't let go of him, either. If anything, it grew stronger.

  "Make it look good for the camera," said Mobai. "I'll give you a cue, like in Hollywoods."

  Simon actually started to think he could live with himself if he did it. After all, wasn't it self-defense in a way? If he refused to kill Horne, and Mobai gave Horne the machete, would Horne hesitate to use it?

  There was also the fact that killing Horne would be a public service. The world could stand to have one less dick, especially one so influential.

  The more Simon thought it over, the more reasonable it seemed.

  But he couldn't do it, could he? Killing Horne would go against everything he believed in. It would make him worse than Horne, make him as bad as his...

  "Here comes your cue, you big star," whispered Mobai...and then, suddenly, he yelled in Simon's ear. "Pussy! You are in my power! I'm going to make you kill the World's Biggest Dick now!"

  A week ago--a day ago, even--if someone had told Simon he would have to face this decision, he wouldn't have believed it. If someone had told him he would struggle with this decision, that he would even consider killing someone, he would've believed it even less.

  But he was struggling.

  "I'm going to do it now!" bellowed Mobai. "Enjoy the show, powerless Pussy pawn!"

  For all Mobai's shouting, he put no pressure on the machete. It was up to Simon to move in for the kill. To add torrents of blood to the single drop crawling down Horne's throat.

  So now, Simon had to make a decision. He could refuse to kill Horne, which would probably lead to his own untimely death.

  Or he could kill Horne Shaw, the dick he hated more than anyone in the whole world, and get away with it.

  *****

  Chapter 49

  130 Million Years Ago

  China

  The killer ebon dinosaur roared as the black muck sucked him deeper. He was already sunk up to his chest; his arms and clawed hands had disappeared beneath the glossy obsidian surface.

  Which meant he would be even easier for Grip to kill.

  The dinosaur roared again, casting the rancid mist of his breath over the banked rim of the pit, carrying with it the trace scents of Grip's murdered mate and pups. The smell reminded Grip of his reason for being there.

  He hadn't come in search of a new family or a fresh start with another dog-thing's pups. He hadn't come to watch his enemy die a slow death brought on by a natural, impersonal phenomenon. He'd come to kill the last killer of his family in a very personal way, to pay him back for the tragedy he'd caused.

  He'd come to get revenge.

  Growling, Grip turned his back on the orphaned pups and faced the pit. Mind made up, he paced the bank, gathering steam for the last act of his quest.

  His heart pounded as he built toward the jump. The killer's roars and howls increased his excitement and resolve. He gnashed his teeth and snarled as he thought about ripping open the killer dinosaur's throat.

  Finally. He'd finally arrived at the end of the road. Any minute now, he would leap across the pit, land on the killer's head, scamper down his long neck, and tear it to ribbons.

  He could already taste the blood on his whiskers. He could imagine his final revenge in great detail.

  Grip stopped pacing the bank at the closest point to the dinosaur. He let off one long, ululating howl, a battle cry, and then he crouched. His tail curled, and every muscle in his body tensed.

  Grip kicked up mud with his back paws...first one and then the other. His red-tipped ears peeled straight back against his brown and white neck, and his eyes glittered with hatred and rage.

  Breathing deep and fast, he prepared to leap. The dinosaur roared in the pit, barely ten feet away, well within range.

  Grip's muscles coiled, about to release. Night birds cried and insects chirped in the forest around him, a prelude to his final burst of revenge. The moment had come for his leap into action.

  *****

  Chapter 50

  130 Million Years Later

  Horseshoe Bay, Bermuda

  "Time for the killing!" Mobai shook Simon, making the machete in his hand twitch. The shaking knocked Mobai's leopard-skin fez off his head, sending it tumbling down over Simon to land on the sandy floor of the cave. "I am forcing you to kill him, and there is nothing you can do to stop it!"

  Simon's pulse boomed like thunder in his ears. He hung suspended in time, the machete poised at Horne's throat, awaiting the slightest push.

  Horne had caused him many months of frustration, but the end was in sight. Simon could kill him, get away with it, and never look back. He could get what he'd been craving since Horne had screwed him over on the damage claim.

  Revenge.

  "I'm doing it!" Mobai raised his voice for the benefit of the audio pickup in Poppa Free's cell phone. The phone's video camera continued to capture every second of the drama for posterity.

  Simon watched the point of the machete hover at Horne's throat, and he considered his choices once more. The thought of getting rid of Horne was tempting. It should have been a real no-brainer.

  For a dick. Was that what he'd become? Had his crusade turned him into the very thing he'd been trying to fight?

  And if he took this one last step, could he ever possibly turn back?

  Suddenly, his choice was clear to him. "Forget it." Simon let his arm go limp in Mobai's grasp. "I won't kill him."

  Simon expected some kind of angry outburst from Mobai, but nothing happened. Everyone--Horne, Poppa Free, the soldiers--waited silently in the cave. The sound of the crashing surf on the beach outside swelled to fill the space.

  Then, Mobai gasped. "What are you doing, old pal?"

  "I told you," said Simon. "I'm doing nothing."

  "Quit forcing the knife toward that man!" As Mobai said it, he tightened his grip on Simon's arm, pretending Simon was pushing the knife forward after all. "Please stop! I was only joking when I said I'd make you kill him! Now you're forcing me!"

  "No!" Simon choked on the cloud of Mobai's B.O. and cologne as it seemed to close in around him. "Stop!"

  Even as he said it, he felt Mobai's muscles flex, and he knew it was too late.

  All it took was a twist of the wrist. Mobai flicked the machete, with Simon's hand around the handle, across Horne's throat.

  And a crimson line appeared, a single red thread from Horne's earlobe to his Adam's apple.

  "No!" Simon fought to break away, but Mobai held him in place. He forced him to stand close as the red thread split open, and blood spurted out.

  As it sprayed all over them both.

  "Happy baptism!" said Mobai. "The dick is dead! Long live the pussy!"

  The blood kept coming. Simon's screams mixed with Mobai's booming laughter. Poppa Free sang "Tears of a Clown" in falsetto, and a soldier clapped along to keep time.

  Then, suddenly, the sound of barking dogs burst into the chaos from somewhere outside. There must have been two of them, three, maybe four. Their voices were getting closer fast.

  And then another voice broke in over top of them, much closer. "Freeze!" It was a man's voice, coming from the mouth of the cave. "Police!"

  The soldier stopped clapping and swung his rifle toward the voice. Gunfire crackled from the cave's mouth, and he was cut down instantly.

  "I said freeze!" said the policeman.

  The second soldier, who'd been holding Horne's head back, let go of Horne and swung around his own rifle. He did manage to get off a few shots before dropping, like the first soldier, in a hail of bullets from the mouth of the cave.

  "Fucking freeze!" said the policeman.


  This time, no one made a hostile move.

  "Don't shoot!" said Poppa Free. "I'm a hostage! I'm a star! This maniac took me prisoner!"

  Mobai released Simon and raised his massive hands in the air. "Diplomatic impunity, gentlemen! I'm a foreign head of state, I'll have you know!"

  The male and female cops who swarmed into the cave in their bullet-proof vests, white shirts, and ties didn't seem to pay much attention to what anyone was saying. They disarmed Poppa Free and Mobai and chucked them facefirst to the ground with equal brutality.

  The police started to rough up Simon, too, when another voice cut through the cave. "That's him!"

  Simon's heart raced when he heard that voice. His eyes burned, and he got a lump in his throat. "That's him! That's Simon!"

  He saw her running toward him through a whirl of cop flashlights and barking bloodhounds, arms extended. She pushed past the policemen and reached for him, ignoring his blood-soaked clothes, the body on the ground, ignoring everything.

  "I followed when they took you!" She threw herself against him and wrapped her arms around him. "I brought the police, and we tracked you all the way here!"

  At first, Simon stood stiffly, in shock. Then, slowly, he lifted his arms. He wrapped them around her, returning her embrace.

  "I'm sorry it took me so long!" she said. "Oh God, I'm so sorry!"

  "Ishi." He kissed the silky black hair on top of her head. "Ishi, I love you."

  And then he cried. He couldn't stop the tears from running down his face.

  *****

  Chapter 51

  130 Million Years Ago

  China

  Just as Grip was about to leap across the pit at the ebon dinosaur sinking into the tar, the pups started barking all at once, crying out in terror. Calling for help.