Habeas Corpus: Black Womb (Black Womb Collection Book 1) Page 6

  “Dammit,” he whined, stomping his foot dramatically.

  “They’ve got Marble Mutant Super Heroes though.”

  “Cool enough, I guess,” he shrugged, scuffing his feet along the tile floor in disappointment.

  There was a knock at the door and a tall, important looking man stepped into the room. He wore a cheap black suit and a leather tie. He had a dulled toothpick between teeth that looked jaundice, which he took out when he entered the room and flicked into the medical waste bin on the wall. His eyes were small and beady. They glared down Xander before even meeting with anyone else. He had a bad comb-over and cheeks that were just a little chubby, but not overly so. He reached into his suit and produced a badge, let it gleam brightly in the light from the window, then shoved it back.

  “I’m Detective Carl Dent. Is this...” he looked at his papers, quickly finding the name he was looking for, “Mike Harris’ room?”

  “Yeah, that’s me.” Mike paused after speaking, breath catching as his side ached at him.

  “He’s the one in the bed,” Sara smirked. “I think that should have been obvious.”

  “That’s Sara, and this is my girlfriend Cathy. Can we... help you?” Mike continued, as though Sara hadn’t spoken.

  “Yes. I need to ask you a few questions regarding your attacker. Do you mind, or would you like me to come back later?” he smiled politely, again shooting a look at Xander.

  Xander raised his eyebrows in response, not knowing what he had done to upset the man.

  “No, now’s fine,” Mike smiled, then added quickly, “Oh! As long as you don’t mind my friends being here.”

  Dent looked down on Xander again, this time making long eye contact.

  “Not at all,” he smiled. “Now I’ve worked on cases like this before, and I know you may have trouble spelling out the details over and over... so, all I want for the moment is a description on your attacker.”

  “I wouldn’t be able to tell you. We never really saw him,” Cathy replied solemnly.

  “And you, sir?” He pointed with his pen to Mike.

  “Same story.”

  “So, you’re telling me you saw nothing, even though my report says you were stabbed under a street light?”

  “Yes, sir,” Mike said through barred teeth.

  “And then the killer had to go past your girlfriend’s oncoming father and get into her room, plant the sword in her floor (which would have been loud), all without making a sound and then get out again?”

  “If that’s what he said happened,” Sara interrupted, “then that’s what happened.”

  “I didn’t ask you,” he snapped curtly.

  “Hey!” Xander jumped from his seat and glared into the detective’s eyes. “What do you think happened?”

  Dent took a deep breath and closed his folder. “I think that these last two attacks were gang related. The same stupid town pride crap that’s been happening between here and Coral Cove for years. And that you made up these stories, maybe even stabbed each other, to protect a friend in the gang that you know did it.”

  Mike tried not to laugh. And failed.

  Xander got up in Dent’s face again and gave him a little shove. Not enough to get him in any kind a trouble, just a rude nudge, finding a backbone that he never even knew he had as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

  “Get out,” he said simply, cocking his head toward the door.

  “Okay,” Dent said as he raised his hands up in defeat calmly. “But I think I’ve got my gang banger right here.” He motioned toward Xander and walked away.

  There was a long silence even after he left the room.

  “What a jerk,” Cathy said after what felt like forever. She sat down on the bed next to Mike and kissed him.

  Still the others were quiet.

  “Come on!” she said in a more cheerful voice, getting out a wheelchair for Mike. “Let’s go down to that game room like Xander said.”

  At Coral Beach High School, everyone was scared out of their minds. People were going crazy. There were wild rumors spreading all over the hallways now, with each student putting their own spin on what had happened and who had done it. Everyone had been blamed -- every student, every teacher, everyone that was known to be blamed had been blamed. There had even been recurrences of an old urban legend involving a man with hooks for hands that preyed on kids that went behind the Factory to make out at the kissing stone. In any case, students and parents alike were freaked. Every shadow was a killer, every movement a danger. Every sound was someone waiting to slice them open. And the teachers’ suggestions to get a walk home buddy didn’t help either.

  Grendel roamed the hallways after his fourth period English class had gotten too boring. He had a slight smirk on his face, the satisfaction he always got after he’d done something he knew he shouldn’t have. The halls were empty, and eerily quiet. Only the squeak of his footsteps on the wet floor could be heard. After a while the squeak wore off, and he had renewed hope that the principal would not catch him.

  He heard the sound of scuffed, smooth shoes and recognized them immediately as Principal Shnieder’s. He was a fat little troll of an administrator with ears that wriggled when he talked about geography and only when he talked about geography.

  And he loved giving out detention slips.

  Grendel ducked into the boy’s bathroom just as Shnieder was coming around the corner, feeling his heart jump up into his chest when he did.

  Tommy and ‘Sud’ were in the bathroom, where they spent most of their classes.

  “What’s up, Gren?” Tommy said in the halfway-mocking tone he almost always used. He was tall for his age at almost six foot five, and spiked his hair to add even a little more height. His grin seemed to stretch beyond the borders of his face as he greeted Grendel, opening his jean shirt to reveal a ‘Hello Nasty’ tee underneath. Sud sat next to him on the sink counter, scratching the stubble that composed his hair. He was a larger boy wearing a sweater even though he was clearly warm and his arms seemed a little too long for the rest of his body. He did not greet Grendel, but that was normal. Sud almost never spoke, except to back up Tommy.

  “Nothin’ much, man,” Grendel replied, still listening for Shnieder to pass as he slapped hands with Tommy. “You guys still coming to my party this Saturday? It’s gonna be a wild one.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, we’ll be there,” Tommy smiled, then dropped his voice, even though there was nobody else around. “Have you, ah, made your move with Cathy yet?”

  Grendel lowered his voice too. “Not yet. I’m gonna do it at the party. I figure after all this Jamie business, and with Mike in the hospital, she’ll need a shoulder to cry on.”

  “Yeah, and then a person to lie on.”

  They all laughed.

  “Hopefully,” he smirked, licking his tongue against his teeth. They stopped talking as they heard Shnieder pass the bathroom and continue around the corner. “Well, I gotta go. It’s only so long before he checks in here. Talk to you later, guys.”

  Grendel stepped out into the quiet hallway once again. His shoes made no sound now.

  Then suddenly, they did.

  He stopped, but the squeaking continued for a moment or two. He put his back to the corner and poked his head out to check for Shnieder.

  The halls were clear.

  He looked back from where he came to see if it was Tommy or Sud coming out of the washroom, but that hall was clear as well. He began to walk again, and again the squeaking started, out of synch with his own footsteps. Then he heard it.

  Schenk.

  The sound of cold metal on the stone walls of the school. His body broke out in gooseflesh as he began to run up the halls toward his classroom. The sound and the squeaks sped up as well. He rounded the second-to-last corner to his class, and slipped on the floor, ploughing into the wet floor sign and then slamming into the lockers. Hard.

  He picked himself up as he heard the squeaks, still coming now even though he had stop
ped. He heard the sound again, and suddenly remembered the rumors of the man with hooks for hands. He broke into a run, turning the next corner and running right into Carl Dent.

  “What the hell are you doin’, boy?” Dent bellowed.

  “N-nothing,” Grendel stammered as he looked down at Dent’s metal coat strap, clinking against the wall, and sighed at his own silliness.

  “I should report you to your --” Dent stopped for a moment, looked in his folder, then back up at Grendel. “Is your name Julian Grendel?”

  “Uh, yeah. That’s me. It’s just Grendel though.”

  “Son, do you know an Alex Drew?”

  “You mean Xander?”

  “Come with me, boy.”

  “Son,” Dent said as he glared at the boy from across the guidance counsellor’s table. “How well do you know this... Xander, is it?”

  “Yeah. He’s all right. I invited him to a party coming up Saturday.”

  “So, you’d say that you were friends?”

  “More like a friend of a friend,” Grendel said, mulling the term ‘friend’ around in his head for a second.

  “You mean Michael Harris?” he pushed, checking his file just to be sure of the name.

  “Mmm. More like Cathy Kennessy,” he corrected quickly, a sly grin prying over his lips.

  “I see. Alright, how would you describe Xander Drew?”

  “He’s cool enough. He knows what goes on. A little bit of a loner though.”

  “What do you mean?” Dent picked up his pen and paper and began to write.

  “Well, he mainly only hangs around with these three people...”

  Dent again looked at his notes. “Mike Harris, Cathy Kennessy and Sara Johnson.”

  “Yes.” Grendel was starting to get a little freaked about how much Dent knew about the life of an average kid. “And when he’s not shooting pool with them, he’s usually inside on his computer. Guy fancies himself a bit of a hacker.”

  “So he keeps to himself a bit.”

  “Um, yeah. A little, I guess. Acts like he doesn’t have the time of day for anyone else then wonders why they ain’t got it for him. Truth is, if Sara didn’t like him so much, he wouldn’t be coming near my place this Saturday. Dunno what she sees in the guy.”

  Dent gathered up his papers, smiling from ear to ear. “Thank you for your help, son.”

  Grendel furrowed his brow, getting up the same time that Dent did, more than a little confused. “Wait, I thought you were going to ask me what I knew about the murderer?”

  “I just did,” he said under his breath, heading toward the door.

  Grendel’s mouth went slack, then turned up into a grin.

  “Well, this is just... neat,” he cackled, turning toward the door himself.

  “Son of a bitch!” Xander screamed as Mike’s character laid another triple punch combo into his. “Even in a damn wheelchair he manages to beat me!”

  Xander had chosen the Granite Gladiator, a gray behemoth wearing armor that made him look like Russell Crowe, thinking his brute strength would more than make up for his own inexperience with the game. He was wrong, as per usual. Against the strength and speed of Mike’s character, the Stone Spider, the Gladiator was all but helpless. Mike did a half swivel with the joystick and pressed ‘punch’ three times in succession to initiate the ‘Ultimate Spider’ move, where the Spider just zipped around the screen, hitting the Gladiator about a hundred times as he went. The Granite Gladiator went down for the second time and the gold letters “Stone Spider Wins” appeared on the screen. The digital spider creature made the remark that the loser would ‘Make a good sidekick.’ With Xander’s defeat the game went into one player mode and Mike fought the computer’s character, randomly chosen as Obsidian. The scrawny little black statue came to life and leaped into the playing field, sprouting four sparkling claws at the end of each wrist as he did so.

  “Dammit. I can’t beat this guy,” Mike muttered as Obsidian started off with something called a ‘Hazard-O’ attack, swirling his claws all around the screen in great gaping circles.

  Xander wandered over to where the girls had been sitting, cursing all the way.

  “Hi guy,” Cathy said to him, “Get bored of the game?”

  “Naw. Just bored of losing the game. But I think it cheered Mike up.”

  “Good.” She leaned over and gave her friend a little kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  “Whatever. If you need me, I’ll be playing pinball,” he said, motioning to where that game stood. “It’s easier to take losing against a small metal ball. Mike’s victory dance is even more demeaning when he’s in that damn chair.”

  She giggled, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

  “Kay,” she said cheerfully, watching him as he made his way over to the pinball machine, digging change out of his pocket along the way.

  With Xander gone, the girls could resume their talk. Cathy turned back to Sara, a concerned look upon her face.

  “What do you think that investigator guy meant when he accused Xander of being in a gang?” Sara asked out of the blue, as she was known to do every now and again.

  “I don’t know. Maybe he thinks it’s him because you and him were the only two people who knew that Mike and I were on that road.”

  A look of panic flashed across Sara’s face, and her voice had a little more edge in it. “Hey, what makes you so special? Why would he think that you were actually targeted, instead of just a random victim like Jamie?”

  “I don’t know,” Cathy said, just taking a sip of her soda. “But you damn well better hope someone figures it out. I don’t know how Mike got away from that guy, but he was absolutely brutal.”

  “Argh!” Mike said, slamming his hands against the machine. Even Cathy noticed. The computer-controlled Obsidian had just finished him off with a move called ‘Insanity Rage’, and Stone Spider went spinning into the air before landing on his back with a thump. Mike wheeled himself over to where Xander stood searching his pockets for change after losing another quarter to the pinball game.

  “That one’s impossible, man,” he said to his friend, motioning toward the air hockey tables. “Let’s try our hand at a real sport.”

  Xander grabbed the handles on the wheelchair and put him in place at one end.

  “Two paddles?” Xander asked, picking them both up and displaying them to his friend.

  “Of course. But I’ll use one. I figure with the wheelchair, and the one paddle, that’ll mean I won’t totally kick your ass.”

  “Hardy har,” he said, throwing Mike his second paddle and putting a dollar into the side of the machine. It slowly buzzed to life.

  “So, you are still going over to Grendel’s... right?” Sara asked, almost out of boredom. “I mean, it is the social event of the season.” She did a mock British accent when she said that, but it sounded more like Australian.

  Cathy laughed at the horrifically bad impression, then brushed a strand of her long black hair back behind her ear. “I want to,” she said, but there was that implied ‘but’ at the end of it, one that was left hanging there open-ended for Sara to pick up and follow on.

  “So, why won’t you? And don’t give me any of that ‘Mike thinks Gren wants me’ crap either.”

  “I dunno,” Cathy mulled, fiddling her straw up and down in her drink. “Don’t you think it’s possible? I mean, he does come off a little...”

  “He doesn’t,” Sara assured her, placing one hand on her friend’s knee to emphasize the sentiment. “Take it from someone who dated him. If he liked you, you’d know it.”

  “Really?” Cathy frowned, still visibly unsure.

  “Absolutely,” Sara laughed. “And even if he does, Gren’s cool. He’d never act on it. Gren’s good at keeping secrets. His own, and other peoples.”

  “I’m telling you guys. Xander Drew is the killer!” Grendel shouted. A small legion consisting of Sud, Tommy, Derek and a few others had gathered around him as he stood on one of the picn
ic tables outside school. “That guy from the cops practically said it!”

  “No way,” Tommy muttered under his breath, his eyes widening as he thought of all the times he and Xander had talked in the halls, or passed him in the stalls, or let him copy his history notes.... The thought made him shudder. “There’s just no way.” He smoothed a hand through his spiked hair, frazzling it as he played with the settings on the camera that hung relaxed around his neck.

  “Yeah,” echoed Sud, moving to fiddle with his own hair as Tommy had, only to remember that his head was, in fact, shaved. He quickly brought his hand down, hoping that nobody had noticed. “No way.”

  “Anyway,” Grendel continued, giving Sud a look that completely disregarded his last comment. “The evidence is all there! He hated Jamie because Sara liked him. Everyone sees the way he chases her around, been doing it since he was six goddamn years old. He tried to kill Cathy and Mike because he’s angry at them for ditching him all the time. He sees what they’ve got and he knows he’s never going to have that with Sara. Plus, he’s the only one who knew where they would be that doesn’t have an alibi. I mean, think about it. I couldn’t accept it at first either but... no, just think about it and you’ll see it.”

  “Yeah,” Derek piped up. He shrugged, his black plastic jacket making ruffling sounds as he did. “And while we’re at it, we’ll all think about how the hell that whiny little weakling could even punch somebody enough to hurt them, let alone do any damage.” He shrugged his shoulders again and walked away from Grendel.

  “Yeah,” Tommy said, ignoring Grendel’s protests as he followed Derek’s lead and walked back toward the bathrooms.

  “Yeah,” Sud said, mimicking Tommy’s exact movements.

  Grendel just got down off of the table as the rest of the crowd dispersed. He sat back, a look of hatred and darkness in his eyes.

  You’ll all pay for this, he thought. Nobody ignores Julian Grendel.

  “Hey Dent,” Tim said as he slipped on his suede jacket. “Find anything connecting those kids yet?” He smiled at Dent. The man was dedicated, that was for certain. He’d never let go of a case like this, not until he brought in the killer.