Ken Douglas - Gecko

Hugh dropped the carbine, grabbed his pistol from the shoulder holster, and advanced on the reptile.

“ You’re going to eat shit, motherfucker.”

Badly wounded, it tried to back away from the advancing human with the fire. It was confused. Humans always ran. They were prey. Prey didn’t fight back and prey never attacked. But this human was something new. It was changing the rules. And, having never been hunted, the beast didn’t know what to do. It had never run from prey. But this wasn’t prey anymore. This was something different. This was a hunter.

It opened its wide mouth, showing jagged teeth, then growled, hissing blue steam into the cool night. This never failed to frighten humans, usually paralyzing them with fear. But the prey, that was no longer prey, extended an arm, and flame leapt out from the human’s hand, and great pain flashed in its throat as three quick explosions smashed into its mouth.

It hissed again, gurgling blood. If only the human would drop the fire it could attack, but the arm that dealt pain stiffened and the reptile backed off as the arm jerked and something smashed into its left eye making everything on its left side go dark. It turned, and for the first time in its long life, it fled.

That’s it, Hugh thought, I’m going for the law. He had faced the beast and driven it back. But he was under no illusions. It had taken several fatal hits and had not gone down. He had only two shots left, if he encountered it again, he would lose. It was time for the horse soldiers.

He turned back to the side road, holding the Zippo high as he walked. Hugh Washington’s mother didn’t raise a dumb boy. He’d noticed the effect the flame had on that thing and he wondered how long since he’d last put fluid in the lighter. If it failed now, he was a dead man. But the flame held till he reached the car and Hugh again gave thanks that there were some things you could always count on. Some things that never let you down.

He breathed a sweat-chilled sigh of relief as his hands sought out and opened the driver’s door. A second sigh escaped him as he moved into the car, positioning himself behind the wheel. He flicked off the lighter and put it away. He searched his pockets for the keys, found them, and was sliding the key into the ignition when a voice in the back said. “Out early, aren’t you, Mr. Washington?”

Hugh froze.

“ That’s a good idea. Don’t move. I have a small, but very effective pistol pointed at the nape of your neck. Killing you now would give me great pleasure, but the doctor wants a word. I trust you’ll be willing to oblige.”

“ Take me to your leader, Mr. Markham.” Hugh tried to sound more confident than he felt.

“ Ah, you know me. Excellent. Doc said you must be sharp to find him here so quickly.”

“ Just lucky.”

“ Unlucky is more like it,” the Weasel said, “especially when he finds out how you treated his little darling. He’s gonna be real mad. Shooting up a poor defenseless creature like that. Oh yeah, he’s gonna be mad.”

Five minutes later Hugh piloted Power Glide into Dr. Kohler’s driveway, wondering if they were going to let him get out alive.

“ That’s good,” the Weasel said. “Now turn it off.”

Hugh obeyed.

“ You know, Washington, if you woulda just come by the house and asked your questions, you mighta lived through all this, but breaking up Doc’s equipment that way and destroying his discs like you did, real stupid that was. Did you destroy the one you stole, too?”

“ I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hugh said, hoping he’d get a chance to use the thirty-eight and those last two shots.

“ Don’t waste it on me. Get out of the car.”

Hugh opened the door and was greeted by Dr. Kohler.

“ How are you this morning, Officer Washington?” His German accent was short and still clipped.

“ Been better.”

“ Yes, I’ll bet you have.”

“ I’ll be better again.”

“ No, I don’t think so.”

The shadows cast on the doctor’s face by the porch light behind didn’t do him any favors. Hugh was reminded of B-grade, black and white horror movies with bad casts and bad endings. The flaring nostrils jutting out from Kohler’s sharp nose, inflating and contracting with each angry breath told Hugh that the doctor had the worst of all bad endings planned for him. He knew hatred when he smelled it.

“ Julia, come out here,” Kohler snapped.

Washington’s heart skipped when she stepped into the lighted frame of the open front door. She was nude, with her hair blowing in the night breeze. The sight of her standing there like that took his breath away and his heart went out to her.

“ You wanted to look,” Kohler said. “Look.”

“ I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hugh said.

“ Oh, come now. You broke in here. Rather crudely done, I might add, and you destroyed some very valuable things. And you took something of mine. Now you see her in person. You see, all you had to do is ask, you didn’t have to take the disc.”

“ I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“ Julia, take him inside.”

Hugh stood breathless as she approached. She smiled at him with misty eyes, took him by the hand and led him into the house. He was helpless, caught in the web of her beauty and the sadness of her eyes. He could do nothing else but follow.

“ Sit,” Frank Markham commanded, pulling him away from Julia and indicating a chair. Hugh sat. “Hands behind your back.” He complied and Frank Markham, the Weasel, tied him to the chair. Hands behind and legs to the front, while Kohler held the gun. He was helpless, unable to move.

“ You’ve done this before,” Hugh said.

“ Yes.” He paused. “A bullet to the back of the head usually follows, but I think Doc has something more interesting planned for you.”

“ I asked you not to call me that.” Kohler glared at the Weasel.

“ Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” Frank Markham said.

“ Bobby, get out here,” Kohler called.

Bobby entered the room, a glint in his stupid eyes. He smiled blankly at Washington and leered at Julia Monday. The bulge in his work pants told everybody in the room that her naked body excited him.

“ Get the razor,” Kohler said.

Bobby Markham left and returned, holding a straight razor. Kohler moved over by Washington and stepped behind him. He put his hands on Hugh’s shoulders and started to massage them. Kneading hard, hurting him. He moved up to his neck and pressed his thumbs roughly into his wind pipe, choking off his air. He released them and Hugh gasped, sucking air.

“ I was going to have the boys perform for you. With Julia. But then you’ve already seen the three of them perform together, haven’t you?”

“ I said, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“ So I had to come up with something to top what you’ve already seen,” Kohler went on, ignoring Washington. “And all you have to do is sit back, watch, enjoy and die.”

“ You can’t kill a police officer in your own home and get away with it. You’ve got to be crazy.”

“ On the contrary. I’m very sane. A little crazy tonight perhaps, because you’ve ruined both my chances of selling Mrs. Monday and at getting her husband’s millions.”

“ You did murder Askew? You were behind it?”

“ Of course, but you’ll never tell anyone, because by the time anybody finds your body, I’ll be miles away with a perfect alibi.”

Washington shivered, the man was insane.

“ Bobby,” Kohler said, a curt command.

Bobby Markham approached Julia and moved behind her. She stood facing Washington. Naked and alluring. Bobby reached around from behind her with his right hand and massaged her breasts.