Habeas Corpus: Black Womb (Black Womb Collection Book 1)

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Habeas Corpus: Black Womb (Black Womb Collection Book 1) Page 48

by Matthew LeDrew

He took two steps to close the distance between them, resting a hand on each shoulder and kissing her softly on the head.

  When she looked up again, he was gone.

  Frowning, she walked over to the phone next to the bed and picked it up. She let it hang next to her ear for a moment, its tone ringing in her ear, then put it back down. She sucked in her bottom lip and chewed on it for a moment, tapping her chin as she stared down at the plastic buttons. Cursing, she picked it up again and hit redial.

  The phone rang twice as she tapped her nails against the plywood table it rested on. Halfway through the third ring, a very bored sounding woman with a nasal voice picked up the line. “Coral Beach Pen, how may I direct your call?”

  “He wouldn’t,” she said aloud, before hanging up the call.

  A row of candles flickered and danced in unison, the only source of light in the room as they bathed the walls of the Factory in their ethereal glow. It made the entire place look foreign and somehow eerily romantic, the scent of burning wax and matches filling the air.

  Xander gazed into the flames until he thought they were burning his retinas, casting his eyes down toward a photo of Roxanne that had been framed and propped up in the center of the miniature shrine. The picture had been from her graduation and the girl in the picture didn’t look remotely like the Roxanne he had known. They shared the same curly red hair and dark green eyes, but the girl in the photo was bright and smiling and full of existence. While the Roxanne he had come to regard as a friend was still all those things, you had to dig deep to find them. For the most part, she’d been cold and bitter, especially toward males.

  He heard someone walk up behind him, along with the steady, wet clack as they chewed on a large wad of gum. He turned just enough to look over his shoulder, his face shadowed in the candlelight.

  Joan Delft stepped up beside him, rubbing her hands with a cloth that he thought had started off white but hadn’t been in quite some time. Her hair was grey and her wrinkled face seemed to want to cave in upon itself, with its brow furrowed downward and its chin pointing up. Joan had bought the Factory years ago and turned it into something worthwhile, with Roxanne’s help.

  “News traveled fast,” she said. Her voice was calm and desolate, free of the sadness that was weighing her down so much that she slouched. Only someone who knew her well would recognize the slight West-Virginia accent that she only reverted to when she was truly upset as being a giveaway of her true feelings.

  “Bad news always does,” Xander nodded. “Guess that says something about our society that we obsess over the bad things like that.”

  “Like vultures over the dead,” she spat, her eyes reflecting the candlelight back toward him. After a moment she forced herself to look away from it, turning to Xander. “Foods all free today, ‘un. Should get yourself something.”

  Xander waved a hand in dismissal, smiling. The thought of food made his stomach do a back-flip, though he wasn’t exactly sure why.

  “Suit yourself,” she shrugged, taking one last look back at Roxanne’s photo before turning away completely. “It’s there if’n you want it.”

  Xander sighed as he watched her until she disappeared behind the counter, smutting her face with the rag as she used it to wipe her eyes, before he turned back toward the display. If you’re innocent, you’re hurt, or you’re scared... I’ll be there. What a joke, he snorted, reaching out and laying a finger gently on the top of the picture frame. Starting to think I had the right idea with the gun.

  “Don’t ever give up,” his memory screamed at him in her soft, mellow voice. It was so vivid that he could almost hear it.

  I’m sorry, Sara. I promised to do good in your name, that I’d never let you down again, but now... it’s starting to look like I do more harm to the world than good. Maybe the best thing would be to just off myself and be done with it. I just -

  “What’s all this shit?” came a loud, obnoxious voice from the doorway. “We haven a friggin’ power ootage or somethin’?”

  “Huh. Power out,” came the echo.

  He didn’t even have to turn around this time to know who was there. He fought back the Black Womb, but actually had to remind himself why he didn’t want to sick it on the duo that had entered. They were the only two people in the world who could annoy him that much that quickly, and he caught himself thinking that if Tommy and Sud were the ones on death row, he wouldn’t have wasted a second thought on letting them fry.

  “Hey Xand,” Tommy said, his voice slightly mocking as he pulled up a chair next to Xander. “Geez, all this for that bitch, huh?”

  “Bitch,” Sud repeated, grinning at the use of the curse.

  Xander’s shoulders twitched into a knot as he fought the blackness, turning to be parallel with Tommy. Despite all instincts, he choked the Womb back. He wanted to do this himself. “Tom, you just picked the worst possible opening line...” he said, even as he cracked the knuckles on each of his fists.

  “What’s the matter with you? Were you puttin’ it to that one, too?” Tommy snickered, running his fingers through the bangs of his spiked hair to make sure it stuck out properly. The spikes made the already tall boy somehow seem even larger. As Xander’s nostrils flared, he could smell the odor of the cheap gel and dandruff.

  Xander turned over the table Tommy sat at, sending a glass flying. Before either of the crude punks could move, he rushed his hands out and grabbed Tommy’s shirt collar.

  “What the hell?” Tommy screamed at Xander, pressing both his palms against Xander’s face and forcing him off, scrambling to his feet as Sud backed up a pace or two in shock. “What the fuck is the matter with you?” he spat angrily as he quickly fixed his collar, although it still stuck off. “The way that bitch touch you remind you of your mommy, or what?”

  That was it. Even though Xander still wouldn’t let Black Womb out, it still pumped adrenaline furiously throughout his system, strengthening his muscles. He grabbed Tommy by the shirt and pulled him toward the door at the far side of the Factory, the boy’s feet literally dragging at one point while he regained his balance.

  “Jesus fuck, Drew. Piss off, ya Goddam techno freak.”

  He pulled Tommy out in front of himself and gave him a shove, sending him into the door with such force that it cracked the knob. He kept going until his back connected with the brick wall across from the door, his head slamming back hard. He hissed sharply as he got to his feet, Xander and Sud not far behind.

  Xander drew back and punched Tommy square in the nose. Hard.

  Tommy twisted as he fell again, slamming into an old metal garbage can with a loud crash. Blood gushed from his nose when he got up, his eyes burning.

  “Get ‘em,” Sud shouted as he stood off to one side, his feet dancing back and forth nervously as he watched the fight.

  Tommy put up both of his fists, clenching his jaw tightly as blood ran down it in two trails. He never took his eyes off of Xander for a second as the two men circled each other in the cramped alleyway.

  Xander put up his own fists as well, feeling four tiny pricks in each palm as his claws tried to poke their way out, eager to join in the fray.

  “You’ve had this comin’ a long time.” Tommy grunted, his voice devoid of the usual wit and whimsy it carried.

  “I was about to say the -”

  Tommy lunged forward, his fist outstretched. Had it connected, it would’ve hurt something incredible for a guy of Tommy’s size.

  If it had connected.

  Xander dodged to the left, turning his body to the side and giving him a much thinner target to hit. Tommy fell to the ground and kissed pavement, breaking the blood vessels in both his kneecaps and bringing more speed to the blood from his nose that covered the lower half of his face now. Xander reached out and grabbed Tommy by the collar of his denim shirt, pulling the arrogant child back to his feet. He turned and lunged out again, this time grabbing Xander by the throat and pressing his thumb against his Adam’s apple.

  Xander’s
eyes went wide as he felt the thyroid cartilage in his neck be forced in, gagging back vomit.

  With one hand holding Xander and one hand free, Tommy jerked back his fist again and jutted it forward. It connected this time, mashing in the features of Xander’s face. He drew back again, slamming Xander’s torso and causing ripples of flesh at his side as he tried to squirm away from it.

  His right side.

  The vibrations agitated the true womb organ, once again sending blackness to Xander’s eyes.

  How is he this fast?

  Xander fought the rising blackness with everything he had, concentrating more on it than the person who had him gripped by the neck.

  Tommy let go of Xander’s throat, bringing his arm around and slamming it into the back of Xander’s head where his neck met his spine. A drop of blood dripped from Xander’s nose and hit the ground. It was a deep black, though neither Tommy nor Sud noticed.

  Xander filled with horror as he felt his control slip away as though it had been covered in soap. His pupils had grown wide and he got up as fast as lightning.

  Tommy lunged at him again with both fists cupped together, his teeth ground together angrily.

  Xander dodged to the left, then to the right when he lunged again.

  “Rrrrah!” Tommy grunted, enraged. He lunged again, tripping over himself and taking a moment to get his feet back in place. His teeth were stained a dark pink from all the blood.

  Xander backhanded Tommy’s fist as he attempted to strike out again, and the boy felt the power of the simple motion tug at the ligament in his shoulder.

  Shocked and desperate, Tommy punched at him again.

  Glaring through him, Xander finally remained. He reached out his open palm and let the fist hit it, clutching down quickly to stop it in mid-swing. He squeezed, slowly, dragging out the pain as long as he could as he heard the bones in Tommy’s hand snap, crackle and pop like cereal. Blood streamed out from between Tommy’s fingers and he started to scream, tears forming in his eyes. Something in his hand made a wet snap.

  “Hey, man stop!” came a new voice from the road.

  Xander turned with a bitter look on his face, ready to tear this new person in half as well. His eyes were completely black.

  Derek ran toward them, out of breath from sprinting across the street from his house. He pushed Xander and Tommy apart, placing a hand on both their chests.

  Tommy immediately fell to the ground and curled into the fetal position, clutching his maimed appendage as Sud rushed to his side.

  Xander drew back a fist and was about to hit Derek, then he stopped and blinked. His pupils shrunk back to normal as he realized what he was doing, the primal urge inside him still pushed him to go for his friend’s throat. He looked down at his hands, trembling and shaking off droplets of Tommy’s blood. “Thanks, man,” he said humbly to Derek, his voice gruff and distant as he continued to stare at the blood on his hands.

  “Yeah,” Derek replied, squeezing Xander’s shoulder. “You wanna grab a game or a drink, cool off?”

  “Okay,” Xander said, between deep breaths. “Okay.”

  Derek nodded and walked ahead, thinking that Xander was right behind. When he entered the Factory, Xander bent down to come face to face with the whimpering Tommy. “You ever talk about a woman like that, or if you even look at Cathy like I’ve been seeing you,” he paused, grabbing Tommy’s shirt collar again, forcing him to look him in the eyes. Xander licked his dry lips,“... I’ll kill you.”

  “Genblade. You got a visitor. Keep it short, eh?” Tom Lensherr said, stepping away from his guard post for the first time in hours. He’d made a vow to himself to be nice to Genblade these next few weeks. After all, after that he’d be dead and they’d all be a lot happier.

  It wasn’t an easy truce.

  “A visitor?” Genblade perked, his face lit up with an eerie smile. His lips were still smattered with the blood of the guard that he had attacked. They couldn’t risk giving him a cloth. The last time they had, he’d used it to slowly strangle a young guard. Anything was a weapon in his hands. Every so often, Genblade would moisten the blood with his tongue, forcing it not to coagulate. It chilled the other guards to their core.

  Tom had seen Genblade’s work first hand. He had been the officer who’d discovered the body of Jamie Dawkins, the first victim of Genblade’s massacre. He remembered the night clearly, the image burned into his mind no matter how much he wanted to root it out and never think of it again.

  He glared down at Genblade, a look of disgust coming over him. “Just get up, will ya?”

  Genblade walked into the visitor’s room they had made especially for him, his chains clinking steadily with every step he took.

  His eyes sparkled wide when he saw his visitor, his evil grin widening from ear to ear. He sat down and stared through the glass, his pale blue eyes running over the man over and over as his warped mind tried to figure out what his purpose here was. After a few moments of curious anticipation, he picked up the phone and put the fractured receiver to his ear.

  Mike picked up his phone, holding it near his face without ever actually making contact with his skin. It felt dirty to him, somehow. “Hello, Genblade,” he said flatly, revealing neither the anger nor the fear that the killer’s presence had stirred in him.

  Genblade squinted a confused look at him, but he still grinned wide. “Hi-ya Mikey! How ya been?”

  “Yeah, okay,” Mike said dismissively, rolling his eyes and glancing away from the glass to his side.

  “How’s the woman?” Genblade smiled profusely.

  Mike grew silent for a long moment. When he finally got his nerves together and spoke, his voice wavered slightly with anger and made Genblade smile. “You know that judge will never actually let you live, right? You’re gonna fry, you smoldering sack of crap.”

  Genblade’s smile faded into an amused sneer.

  “I figure, the least you can do is give us the information floating around in that... thing you call an excuse for a mind, before it boils under a couple thousand volts, right?” Mike said with false lightheartedness, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

  Genblade stared back at Mike through the plate glass. He reached out a finger and tapped on it, bringing the phone close enough to catch it. - click-. -click-. -click-.

  Mike laughed. “You don’t seriously think you can psyche me out with those parlor tricks, do you?”

  Genblade smiled, leaning against the small ledge of the sill on both elbows. “They had such plans for you, you know... Still do. I think they really could’ve made something of you.”

  “Who?” Mike asked, raising an eyebrow before realizing that Genblade had lulled him out of the tough-as-nails persona he’d spent twenty minutes in the bathroom practicing before telling the guard he was ready.

  Genblade smiled. “Had some plans of my own, though. I think you’d make just as good a playmate as Xander... better even. Might even stand a chance against Zy-”

  “How’s the woman?” Mike spat, cutting Genblade off in mid wisecrack.

  There was another long pause from Genblade as he slowly closed his mouth, electing not to finish the sentence as he gripped the phone.

  Suddenly, Mike’s eyes went wide with mock shock. “Oh! That’s right! She’d dead. But don’t worry, you’ll be seeing her again real soon.”

  Genblade’s brow furrowed. “Kid,” he started, taking a deep breath, “I’m gonna tell you the same thing I tell your idiot friend every time he comes in here, looking for trouble: All I know is what Alpha told me. I trust that what he told me was true. You don’t have to.”

  Mike smirked. “Heard we had a bit of rain a few weeks ago. It came down and washed the Spider out.”

  Genblade merely grunted in response.

  It took Mike aback. He wondered he’d actually scored a direct hit on the beast. He hoped so.

  “So, you know a weakness and you’ve exploited it, can we move on now?” Genblade said, cutting the tension of what t
hey were both thinking.

  Mike’s voice lowered, his eyes narrowed. “Only you would think of love as a weakness.”

  There was another long silence as their eyes met, and they stared at one another coldly.

  Genblade reached up a hand and wiped blood from the side of his cheek with his index finger. He smudged it against the glass where the image of Mike’s neck was reflected, making it look like he was bleeding from the jugular. “Another time, then,” he said in a soft, musical voice as he got up and started to hang up the phone.

  Mike got up, startled. “Wait!”

  Genblade’s eyebrows rose. He sat back down and re-lifted the receiver. “There’s more?” he said with sarcastic interest, his tone venomous. “What, think of a new crack to make of my dead wife? By the way, how’s Sara?”

  Mike flinched, letting the small twinge of guilt he felt show. Genblade may be deranged, but he wasn’t trying to say that what he and Spider had wasn’t love. He knew better than anyone that you just didn’t do that. Mike sighed, turning away from the phone again and cursing softly to himself. When he looked back, his eyes were softer and larger, pleading with Genblade through the glass. “Cathy was hurt in the attack. Genblade, you’re gonna die anyway, now. I’m begging you, as someone who lost a person they loved, give me something I can use.”

  Genblade looked thoughtful. He swallowed hard. “If you’re here, I think you already know what the answer is.”

  “Yeah. Had to hear it first,” Mike said, letting his emotions show. He sat a moment, letting that dwell in his mind. “But not from you. You don’t know what I need to, either. That’s why Xander couldn’t get any answers out of you. You don’t have any. You’re just some stupid muscle Engen used to get under Xander’s skin, and now you’re going on about their plans as if you knew any of them. But thanks, I know what I’ve gotta do now.”

  “What you’ve gotta do is think good and hard before you turn a blind eye to -”

  Mike slammed the phone down. He turned to go, then made his hands into a spider - shape and crawled it across the window.

 

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