Hellboy: Unnatural Selection(9)

"He did tell me to beware of your sense of humor," Abe said.

"Did he really?" Marini shook his head and spoke quickly to his officers in Italian, still laughing. They smiled nervously, glancing at Abe as if he were about to bite their faces off. "Well, did he tell you about the time I painted an L and an R on his horns while he slept?"

Abe shook his head, aghast. "And you're still alive?" If Marini were telling the truth, he was lucky still to be in ownership of all four limbs.

The detective waved a hand, guffawed, then shook his head and looked down. "We only worked together for a couple of weeks, but we had much in common. I, too, never knew my parents."

I know how you feel Abe almost said, but he let it lie.

The launch powered down and nudged roughly against the dock. The young policemen jumped up and secured the mooring lines, then stepped back and watched in fascination as Abe went ashore. Marini finally seemed to lose his temper with his subordinates. He fired a few harsh-sounding words at them, and they scampered off, ducking into the nearby police station and letting the door drift shut behind them.

"Forgive them," Marini said.

Abe raised one webbed hand and smiled. "Of course. I can hardly blame them."

"Now, to business. We will consult the incident map inside. I've plotted the location of every sighting, investigated possible hiding places, and from all that I think we can decide where would be the best place — "

"I think right here," Abe said. He had turned away from the detective to see what was causing a commotion out on the lagoon. A gaily painted tourist barge seemed to be floating at the whim of the tide, drifting sideways with the waves, and shadows and shapes waved and danced on deck. Screams of fright and pain came their way. Balancing on the edge of the boat, head thrashing from side to side, mouth filled with tourist, was the largest lizard Abe had ever seen.



* * *



"But what can you do?" Marini asked. Abe was perched on the edge of the dock, webbed feet just inches from the tips of the waves. The screams continued from across the water, and now he could hear the splashes of people leaping into the lagoon. Bad move. The alligator would love that, and if he didn't do something soon, then Marini would spend the time between now and his retirement pulling body parts out of Venice's canals.

"I'm not sure yet," Abe said, "but I have to try something. You have guns in there?" He nodded back at the police station.

"Of course." Marini pulled out his revolver.

"No," Abe said. "Big guns."

"Yes."

"Get them." Before Marini could say more, Abe launched himself into the Venetian waters.

As ever, he relished those first few seconds of immersion. He breathed in deep, aware of the tang of pollution in the water but enjoying the feeling of his gills opening and closing. This was really breathing. The water was murky and filled with muck, but no more so than the air up there. This muck was more visible, that was all. He kicked out and started swimming.

He could hear the sounds of the alligator attack. The human screams were muffled but louder than they had been above water. There were more than one. He could hear the frantic kicking and slapping at the water's surface as people tried to swim away and the calmer, more contented thump, thump of the alligator's great tail. Abe could also sense the grind of its jaws and the crunch of bones, and that was not good news. Lets hope this one isn't an ambassadors niece, he thought, but immediately berated himself. He'd been claiming for years that Hellboy's dry humor was rubbing off on him.

Abe struck out for the alligator. He kicked with his feet, pushed with his hands, slid through the water. Instinct steered him when sight could not; there was only a vague glow of daylight above him, and below and to the side the water was cloudy with oil and filth. He could barely see his hands when they swept out in front of him.

Instinct also judged his distance, and when he thought he was close to the tumult — the sounds were louder, the vibrations of violence stronger in the water — he surfaced.

He looked ahead first. The alligator was still propped on the side of the barge — good for him, bad for the tourists. The monster's small front legs were hooked over the gunwale, its weight tipping the vessel and making its remaining occupants slide toward its thrashing jaws. Blood smeared the deck. A few rags hung from the lizard's fist-sized teeth, the only remnants of the woman Abe had heard screaming from the shore. He turned in the water. Detective Marini was already jumping into the launch with his two staring officers, all three carrying something big and gray and nasty-looking.