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

by Matthew LeDrew

  Natasha Mayer walked with a power in her step.

  Courthouses, especially this one, had always scared her, ever since she had been a little girl. Her mother had been called to it more than once during her childhood and she’d learned to associate with bad feelings from a point very early in her life. In the years since she had learned to put on the brave face, censuring which emotions that she let others see. Now, as she strode down the lime marble hallways carrying her opening statements in hand, she made sure that the only one she displayed was calm. Inside, her stomach still fluttered at the sight of the large stone pillars and gothic moldings that made up the antiquated Coral Beach courthouse.

  A statue of the blind justice stood looming at her at the end of the hall, holding the scales out in front of her and pointing them directly at Natasha. As a child she remembered thinking that the statue was mad at her, somehow. The sculptor had made its gaze too stern and instead of the tempered frown, the woman’s head was forever drawn back in a subdued scowl. Now she almost pitied the woman holding the scales, forced to carry the weight of either side for eternity, no matter which way the scales tipped. “Justice isn’t only blind. She’s enslaved,” she mumbled to herself as she passed by the tall stone figure. Composing herself again, she stuck her nose into the air and continued her strut down the hallway towards the courtroom.

  She past the massive doors of petrified wood and nodded to the bailiff, her heels clacking all the way up through the center of the gallery, finding her way to the defense desk. She placed her briefcase upon it gently, maneuvering it tediously until it was in just the right position. When she was done, she turned back to the rows of empty seats behind her and let out a sigh, the first signs of real emotion she’d let pass since entering the building.

  Soon the seats behind her would be filled with the loved ones of those Genblade had killed, media, legal students and just about anyone that would fit from the citizenry of Coral Beach. In her mind’s eye, she could almost see three rings forming in the colors of the seats to make it a real circus.

  “Nervous?” asked the bailiff, stroking his thick goatee as the sweat stains beneath each of his armpits grew to immense proportions.

  “How am I supposed to look at them?” she asked, smiling at him as best she could. “I’m defending the person who killed their children. The person that destroyed all their lives.”

  “That’s why the judge is up front, Miss,” he responded, pointing toward the head of the courtroom. “So you don’t have to face them.”

  I hope Xander comes soon, she thought to herself, turning back toward the table.

  The doors behind her swung open, startling her to the point that her composure fell and she let out a little squeal.

  Megan Greene strode into the courtroom, her walk strong and confident. Her red hair flowed behind her as she walked, catching the sunlight that shone in through the large stain glass windows. Three men, each of whom looked very lanky and weak, walked silently behind her. Everything about her entrance, from the way she walked down to those little lackeys who were no doubt nothing but yes men, was perfect. Everything was set up to make her seem like the biggest and most powerful person in the room.

  Which, Natasha realized quickly, she probably was.

  Her suit was cut off at the waist, leaving way to her white blouse. She wore a thigh-length black skirt, which flowed in unison with her hair, as if they were somehow attached. She was beautiful and she knew it, or at least she should have.

  Megan walked over to Natasha. “Hello Miss. Mayer.” she said, flashing an obviously fake smile. “Feeling jumpy?”

  “Two nights without sleep and staring at psyche reports on a convicted serial killer would make anyone jumpy,” Natasha reasoned, extended a hand.

  Megan looked down at the hand, smiled, then ignored it and turned back to Natasha. “Weird. I stayed up with them, and I feel just fine.”

  Natasha looked down at her files. She didn’t have half as many as Megan, and Megan had a much stronger case. She frowned, sitting down and staring at the files in front of her. I hope Xander gets here soon, she thought, beginning to organize them.

  CHAPTER EIGHT:

  TRIALS AHEAD

  Xander fumbled with the top button of his shirt, his mouth contorting awkwardly as he fastened it. He stormed down the concrete steps of the police station, one foot following the other, tapping constantly. The shoes were tight and uncomfortable, pressing against either side of his feet until he could feel every ounce of blood that passed through them. Cathy had picked them out the night before. She’d said they made him look smart.

  He paused at the street, rapping his fingers against the side of his leg as he waited for a car to pass and then crossed, nodding politely to a blonde woman pushing a stroller as he did.

  The courthouse seemed to have grown out of the streets of the city. As if pavement were a living thing like plants and could grow its own buildings out of the earth. Its rough, textured grey was almost exactly like the weathered streets all around it, like a living, breathing part of his city. Massive stone pillars held up the high ceilings of the entrance, with each and every inch carved and decorated with pictographs so small and fine that you didn’t even notice them until you got up close. In the center of the archway was a large, oval clock made of ivory back when ivory was still legal. Animal rights activists had been trying to get the face replaced for years, but right now it shimmered in the mid-afternoon sun for all its glory.

  Setting his jaw, he stepped inside, walking briskly down the hall until he reached the large wooden doors of the main docket.

  The second he walked into the courtroom, the warm air trapped within hit him as though he’d walked into a wall of solid heat. He felt his own head jerk back a bit at the smell of sweat mixed with the Pine-Sol that had obviously been used to clean the room. The courtroom smelled like an old library. That scent of old wood, paper, and dust. It was a smell he’d long associated with knowledge and felt very much in place here, with its long marble floors and towering bench at the opposite side.

  “Xander Drew?” came a deep voice to his right.

  He turned quickly and saw the bailiff looking down at him, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “That’s me.”

  “She’s waiting for you,” he replied gruffly, nodding his head toward the front.

  “Thank you,” he replied without giving the man another glance, turning to walk down the hall towards the head of the courtroom.

  The gallery was packed full. Every seat was taken, every corner where a person could be shoved occupied. Parents clutched pictures of children that Genblade had taken from them. Students talked amongst themselves. Journalists sat with their thumbs pressed against the record button of their tape decks, just in case.

  From the first step he took, all those eyes locked onto Xander Drew.

  Trying his best to keep his eyes facing forward, he marched to the last row and took a seat right behind Natasha Mayer’s desk.

  Deep inside him, the true womb twitched. Something deep inside itched at him, begged him to turn just a little to his right, but he would not.

  Natasha turned around in her chair, leaning one arm over the back to see him as she moved a strand of hair behind her ear. “Beginning to think you wouldn’t show,” she said with relief.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said, tapping his foot anxiously as beads of sweat started to form on his brow. “So, how do you wanna do this?”

  “We’ll play it by ear,” she smiled, showing off duel rows of perfectly white teeth. “Just let me know if something becomes important, and be sure to try and be as positive as possible when I call you as a witness.”

  “Today?”

  “No, lord no. That’ll be a few days at least. They may not even want to hear from you now. This is just the hearing to decide - -”

  “All rise,” the bailiff barked loudly, bringing Natasha’s sentence to a halt. She turned around in her chair swiftly and stood, smoothing ou
t the wrinkles in her suit as she did so.

  Xander stood as well, along with everyone else in the courtroom as the judge entered through a door just to the left of the bench. In the corner of his eye, he noticed one person who did not rise. Sweat itched at the corners of his eye, making the lashes twitch. Pretending to scratch his nose, he finally succumbed to the temptation and turned to look at the person just to Natasha’s right.

  Adam Genblade stared back at Xander, tight-lipped at first, then opening his mouth in a crocked smile to reveal rows of sharpened teeth. His orange prison jumpsuit did little to hide the rippling physique that lay just underneath, his muscles tensing and flexing mockingly as he stared Xander down, his eyes so blue they were nearly white. For the first time in weeks, there was nothing but space between the two of them. No plate glass, no steel walls, and no smoke and mirrors. Just the thick, hot air of the courtroom and the tension.

  Xander felt his fingers tighten into fists so tight that it felt like the skin on his knuckles might rupture. His heart pumped hard and fast, sending heat coursing through his body and into his face as he imagined simply walking over there and ending Genblade, once and for all. He peeled his gaze away from Genblade’s for a moment, looking from the three guards stationed near him, hands on their holsters, to the thick shackles clamped around his wrists and feet. He couldn’t help but smile. He turned away from the killer altogether as the judge took a seat at the head of the courtroom, taking stock of the people gathered. Suddenly, he felt more anxious than ever, but he wasn’t nervous anymore.

  The journalist from the hospital was there, scribbling something fiercely into his notepad. Mr. Miles was there too, cleaning smut off of his glasses with the tail of his shirt. As his eyes shifted through the masses, he caught a glimpse of Mike and Cathy. They were both shifting their eyes from him to Genblade, trying to figure out whom they should keep their eyes on more. Xander looked back at Genblade, who was still smiling fiercely at him. There was a bruise going up the left side of his face, something that made Xander beam.

  “Case number 28654 on the docket,” the bailiff continued as everyone rose. “The honourable Judge Pike presiding.”

  The judge sat down, her long black robe flowing behind her. Her curly blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders and down her back. She had full, pink lips and a tight chin. Her eyes were big and blue, with long lashes. Xander inhaled suddenly when he saw her. She looked exactly like Sara would have at that age. If Sara had made it to that age. He quickly pushed the thoughts out of his mind as he felt Black Womb stirring. Focus, dammit, he chided himself, praying that nobody noticed. His gaze once again fell on Genblade, who grinned at him viciously now. He mouthed something that Xander couldn’t quite pick out, but knew what it was anyway.

  Strawberries.

  Genblade smirked at Xander sinisterly, nodding slightly, as if he knew exactly what Xander was thinking.

  Xander shivered, the notion that Genblade knew what was going on in his head sending chills up and down his spine.

  “You may sit,” the judge said, in a voice that was hard, haggard, and nothing like Sara’s, bringing him back to reality. She sat down herself, leaning out over the high table and looking down at the people below. She glared down at Adam Genblade with contempt.

  Adam laughed hysterically, turning and throwing a glance at Xander.

  Xander frowned, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “I’d hoped at least the judge would be impartial,” he grumbled to himself softly, letting out a short sigh.

  “Adam Genblade,” the judge said, her voice venomous as she said his name. “You have been charged with ten counts of first degree murder, eight counts of second degree murder, kidnapping, conspiracy to commit murder and crimes against humanity. Defense, how does the accused plead?”

  Natasha stood again, swallowing twice and still unable to get enough moisture into her mouth to create sound. She turned towards Megan before she spoke, the redhead lawyer beaming happily at her. “Not guilty, your Honour,” she said finally, with all the confidence she could muster.

  The judge raised one eyebrow. “Alright,” she said flatly, checking some papers hidden by her desk. “Hearings will begin at exactly one fifteen tomorrow afternoon. Have your opening statements prepared, councils.”

  The judge banged on her gavel with a loud clang. Just as the gavel hit its wooden holster, Genblade leapt from his seat, planting both feet onto the defense’s table next to Natasha and sending her glass water-jug smashing to the floor. “I object!” he shouted, breaking into hysterical laughter at the wide-eyed judge.

  Xander jumped to his feet so fast it sent his chair back into the person behind him. Leaping over the rail between the gallery and the court, he lunged at Genblade’s legs.

  Genblade leaped down from the table, allowing Xander to crash through it. The wood splintered and fragmented into hundreds of sharp spikes, digging into his side as he hit the hard marble floor. “Not this time!” Genblade squealed in a half-giddy voice.

  One of the three guards posted around Genblade pulled his gun from its holster and shot at Genblade, pumping off one bullet after another. Genblade vaulted into the air as if from nowhere, spinning and twisting in midair as the bullets whizzed past him. He landed just a few feet from Xander, unharmed.

  The other two guards took out their guns as well and took aim.

  “No,” Xander whispered to himself as he looked up from the shattered remains of the table, seeing what was about to happen.

  All three guards began firing, filling the air with lead.

  Once again, Genblade bent his legs and effortlessly extended them, sending his body thrusting into a twisting backspin in the air.

  There was the unmistakable sound of metal meeting metal, and then again as Genblade slowly fell back to earth.

  He landed safely on the ground, like a circus acrobat just finishing some amazing trick.

  A moment later, his shackles hit the ground as well, a smoldering bullet hole still warm in the center of the shattered chain.

  Genblade smiled.

  He snatched up the broken water jug and hurled it at one of the guards. The broken glass dug into the skin of his chest, ripping away at it as if it were nothing. Blood and flesh splattered out onto the floor rapidly as the jagged glass cut through one of the man’s main arteries. He let out a small sound as he hit the floor, the arterial spray almost reaching all the way to the top of the judge’s bench.

  “It’s time for a little disorder in the court, if you get my drift!” Genblade taunted to the other guards as he jumped onto the bar separating him from the gallery, hopping down into the hall and running for the door. Grinning wildly, he placed his hand against the knob... and locked it, then broke it off.

  He turned around slowly, watching as panic began to set in and the people who were too scared to move got in the way of those who were so scared they ran, the court threatening to tear itself apart even without his help. After a moment, they all stopped and stared at him, wondering what he would do next.

  Genblade smiled, his tongue rolled across his lips. As he did, his own jagged teeth cut his tongue, blood oozing down his chin. He didn’t notice, just smiled wider as the coppery taste filled his mouth.

  At the other side of the courtroom, Xander looked on in absolute horror. His mouth opened wide and fell slack, and his eyes felt as though they might pop out of his head. His breathing was so quick and hard that he thought he was going to pass out. It was all he could do to repress Black Womb from coming out right then and there. He couldn’t move. He could only let two words pass through his dry lips.

  “Genblade’s free.”

  CHAPTER NINE:

  REMATCH

  The words hung in the air as Genblade shifted his gaze from one frightened person to the next, taking in all of their fear and awe. He smiled grimly at all the horrified eyes which were trained on him, the pupils following even his most minute movement as he swayed back and forth. He took a deep breath throug
h his nostrils and then sighed happily, as if he could smell the fright in the air. Blood and saliva mixed together in his mouth, mingling together to form a thick, bubbly liquid that seeped from between his lips and ran slowly down his chin before finally falling onto his jumpsuit.

  “Genblade’s free.”

  Xander felt his own words pass through his lips, not even realizing that he had spoken them. Every muscle in his body had locked in place, holding him in place through sheer force of instinct. He watched Genblade move one foot closer to the exit, rubbing the red rings around each of his wrists.

  The two remaining guards kept their guns trained on Genblade, their hands shaking so fiercely that they probably couldn’t have squeezed the triggers even if they wanted to, Xander guessed. One kept mumbling something out of the corner of his mouth, seemingly without realizing it. Only after he started again was it recognizable as the Our Father.

  Genblade ran his eyes from face to face, lingering on some as he scanned the crowd. Like a wave, each person shuddered or curled into themselves and those around them as his eyes locked with their own. More than one started to cry, if they hadn’t already. Finally, his gaze arrived on Mike and Cathy.

  Cathy turned into the nape of Mike’s neck, yet her eyes still bulged and stared out at him from behind her hair.

  Mike glared at him wickedly, wishing with every thought he had that Genblade would simply drop dead where he stood, but at the same time unable to control the vibrations of his lower lip.

  Genblade’s smile grew mischievously. Letting out a small, happy squeal, he turned around and bent over so that he was eye-to-eye with Xander. “Well, well. The gangs almost all here,” he chuckled. “Time to get out the party favours.”

  “Stop it,” Xander whispered through pursed lips, his eyes darting from Genblade to Mike and then back again. “You’re the only one who can stop this.”