Serpent Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  CHAPTER ONE Novella

  Spring

  CHAPTER TWO 1

  CHAPTER THREE 2

  CHAPTER FOUR 3

  CHAPTER FIVE 4

  CHAPTER SIX 5

  CHAPTER SEVEN 6

  CHAPTER EIGHT 7

  CHAPTER NINE 8

  CHAPTER TEN 9

  CHAPTER ELEVEN 10

  CHAPTER TWELVE 11

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN 12

  Thanks for reading! If you want to continue the

  Serpent

  A Vigilantes Novella

  By

  Trish Heinrich

  Copyright © 2017 Beautiful Fire

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN:978-0-9990669-6-6

  ISBN-13:

  #

  For Dan,

  Who believed I could

  CHAPTER ONE

  Novella

  Spring

  1939

  CHAPTER TWO

  1

  The smell of blood polluted the aroma of honeysuckle and roses like a rotten undertone. Rebecca tried to still the pounding of her heart, the way her hand shook as she reached for the blood smeared bedroom door knob. She knew what she'd find behind that door, somehow, she just knew.

  And it made her want to vomit.

  Pushing the bile down her throat, she forced herself to push open the bedroom door.

  The walls were covered in a cheery yellow paint, a border dotted with pink and purple flowers at the top of the wall. A small bed, the head board carved with roses and daisy's sat against one wall, it's covers rumpled. A teddy bear lay a few feet from bed, as if dropped. The faint notes of a lullaby played from a music box that sat on a white dresser.

  At least, it used to be white.

  Now it half of it was splattered with blood.

  She stepped inside and stopped at the edge of a relatively small pool of blood, it shone wet in the light of the small lamp that had been overturned.

  Rebecca stood, frozen to the spot, and looked further into the puddle.

  A small hand lay in it, stripped of skin.

  She ran from the room and barely made it outside before throwing up in the rose bushes.

  When she finished, her entire body shook. But whether from anguish or fury, Rebecca couldn't be sure.

  She'd been Jet City's secret vigilante, Serpent, for almost twenty years. She'd seen her share of psychopaths, but for some reason this one was different. What she'd seen in the last two months, the obvious forethought and precision of his murders, knowing that the victims had endured hours of agony before bleeding to death. It was all something Rebecca was having a very hard time with.

  Maybe I've just seen too much. Maybe it's all piling up in my mind. Emily said one day it might.

  She shook her head, trying to dislodge such thoughts and felt her red wig brush against her cheeks. When she first started all this, a domino mask and a hodgepodge of men's clothing was all she had to make sure no one knew who Serpent was.

  But after that had proved less than sufficient, Rebecca had designed an entire suit, wig and eye mask. It had taken her a year to find the right dark green fabric, to make the pattern and then put the actual suit together. When she was done, Rebecca had made a tight, reinforced suit that covered her from her ankles to her wrists and to just under her chin. Her black gloves had brass knuckles sewn into them, and she had special ordered military grade boots that fit her small feet. The wig had been the trickiest, since she had to be sure it wouldn't fall off. After several failed attempts, Rebecca had come up with a way to secure the wig so it didn't slip or pull off easily. Though it caused her nearly constant headaches to add to the ever lengthening list of chronic aches and pains, Rebecca felt that it was worth it. No one could know that Serpent was Rebecca Frost, millionaire widow, business woman and philanthropist.

  Not that many people even believe Serpent really exists, much less that I'm a woman.

  She snorted in spite of the situation.

  That's simply a bridge too far for most.

  "I like the name you gave me. Domino. It's a little obvious, but I don't mind," said a high, nasal voice.

  Rebecca jerked upright and turned, fury flashing through her body. Standing in the middle of the perfectly manicured front lawn was a thin man, stringy blond hair hanging in his face. A large knife in a brown leather sheath clipped to his belt, which was cinched so tight that it made the top of his pants bunch.

  "I had always wondered," he said. "What that would be like. Now I know."

  "Yes," Rebecca said, her voice rough.

  "What now?" he asked, his face pinched with worry. "What is left to try?"

  "Me."

  Domino nodded, relief making his blotchy face bright. "Yes, I suppose that's true. You are unique. And I've left you so many clues, invitations really. Have you seen them?"

  "Yes."

  "Good, good. I love smart people. They are so interesting as I cut into them. The things they think of, and remember as the life drains out of them. It's never what you think."

  He smiled, showing straight, white teeth. "I wonder what you'll say."

  She ran straight for Domino, throwing her baton ahead of her. It went wide, thudding against the thick trunk of a large tree in the front yard. He sprinted across the lawn, his thin legs surprisingly fast.

  Rebecca put on a burst of speed, determined to end his killing spree tonight.

  "Find the last domino!" he yelled over his shoulder. "You'll never guess where it is!"

  As he rounded a corner, Rebecca's back chose that moment to spasm.

  She gasped at the sudden, excruciating pain and skidded to a stop.

  "Damn it!" she yelled, one gloved hand clutching her back. "Why do I have to get old?"

  Sirens began to wail in the distance and Rebecca knew she only had a few minutes to find the domino he'd left somewhere in the little girls room.

  She would've given anything to not have to go back into that room. But she wanted to catch this killer more than she wanted to avoid the sight of that little girls body. Gritting her teeth, Rebecca moved as quickly as her back would let her and pushed open the bedroom door.

  The sirens were closer now. She had to hurry.

  Doing her best to preserve the crime scene for the police she stepped around the blood, forcing her feelings down behind the logic this moment required. She looked at the small body, in the blood, on the dresser.

  As she backed up to get a better view of the overall scene, she stepped on the Teddy Bear. Picking it up, Rebecca noticed something hard under the soft fur. When she turned it over, the seam at the back had been ripped open and sewn back together. At first she wondered if it had been the girls now dead mother who had repaired the bear. But Rebecca's fingers felt that strange hardness again.

  "Sick creep," she murmured as the realization hit her.

  She tore open the seam and dug around inside the stuffing until she found what he'd left, the last domino.

  On one side it looked like any other domino. But on the other side was a letter, written in a red that could only be the little girls blood. Just as it had been every victims blood on every other domino.

  If I can figure out the right order of the letters, I'll know where he is.

  The sirens now sounded like they were right outside, and soon the house would be swarming with police, who would like nothing better than to pin the whole killing spree on her.

  She ran to one of the small windows in the room and opened it. With a wince because of the back muscles that were still spasming, Rebecca climbed out the window, onto the small overhang and jumped onto the lawn. Her knee gave a jolt of pain and she cursed under her breath.

  She'd just slipped
over the back fence when voices began to sound through the house. Her motorcycle, a gift from a German company that was trying to win her over, was parked at the end of the small back alley. When she straddled the motorcycle and settled on the cool seat, Rebecca began to feel every ache and pain in her body.

  "I have to get Diana trained soon," she rubbed her right knee. "Much as I hate to admit it, perhaps it's time I retire."

  Then she felt the domino still in her hand, and looked down at the letter 'C' written in blood.

  "First I get this one, then...we'll see."

  Rebecca started the bike, and tore off into the night toward her mansion where she'd hidden the rest of the domino's. She'd figure this out tonight, and then tomorrow, he'd be finished.

  #

  Zeke hated driving at night. The glare of the other head lights, not knowing if an animal was going to dart out in front of the car, and especially the darkness that sometimes felt like it was pressing down on him.

  The beautiful pregnant woman sleeping in the seat next to him gave a little snore and rubbed her huge belly. Her smiled, placing a hand on her stomach to feel their child moving just a little. Then he felt the stomach muscles tightening, and his own stomach dropped.

  No, no, no! We still had two weeks! Justine can't be in labor yet!

  Zeke put his hand a little lower and felt the contraction lessen. He kept his hand on her stomach for at least ten minutes, but didn't feel anything else.

  If it is labor, it's only the beginning. Even so, this is the worst possible time! We aren't close enough to Canada yet and I don't want to chance a stop somewhere.

  He looked in the rear view mirror, worried at how long the car behind them had been back there. Was it following them? Was it simply going the same way they were?

  Justine shifted again, her serene expression tensing.

  Another one. Damn! Maybe a Motel or something...

  But he knew better. After being turned away the last three times they stopped someplace because of the color of their skin, Zeke was in no hurry to make it a fourth.

  Maybe we could make the next city and get her to a hospital in time.

  He leaned forward to better read the sign that was coming up.

  And sighed.

  They had decided that taking back roads might've been the longer way, but Mr. Fry and his goons probably wouldn't be watching all the country roads and highways like they would the more well traveled roads.

  But now Zeke was regretting that decision. They'd had trouble finding lodging most nights, gas stations were more infrequent and though most towns had a doctor, he wasn't sure if they'd be allowed to see him.

  And now we're at least a day's drive away from the nearest city.

  Justine sighed in her sleep, and rubbed her stomach again. Zeke put his hand over hers, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  "Let's hope no one is following us, and that the hospital won't care about our color. I have a feeling you'll be needing some help this time tomorrow."

  CHAPTER THREE

  2

  Rebecca turned the engine of her motorcycle off and pulled out the rolled up tarp she carried with her. When she was sure the bike was fully covered, she ran across the deserted street to the burned out remnant of Jet City's former boys home.

  It had taken her all of last night to decipher Domino's message, and when she did, Rebecca had cringed.

  Cutter Charles

  When it had first begun, The Cutter Charles Home for Troubled Boys was supposed to help and educate young boys so that they didn't rot away in jail. But the Charles family fortune was squandered before the Home could do much good. Rebecca had done all she could to secure more money for the home in the hopes that the boys would be given a chance at normal, productive lives. But few people in Jet City cared or believed such a thing was possible, and in the end, she hadn't been able to do enough. The home had burned down ten years ago, and everyone just assumed it was because of shoddy maintenance or one of the occupants.

  She'd wanted to rail against the rich snobs when the home had burned down, killing half of the hundred or so boys inside. But Rebecca knew that would do no good.

  Now, staring up at the burned out husk in the middle of a street full of empty and broken down buildings, Rebecca wondered if Domino knew her history with this place.

  But then he'd have to know who I am. Even if he is as smart as he thinks he is, I doubt he knows that. Perhaps he'd been a boy here, he's the right age.

  A brief flash of pity coursed through her. But it was destroyed by the memories of Domino's victims, all of them fresh and gruesome in her mind's eye.

  Especially last nights.

  Rebecca crept into the building, careful to watch her step. The ground floor was littered with old pieces of wood, cigarette butts, cans, and remnants of food. It all gave the impression that homeless people used this as an escape from the elements. The shadows were deep, and she couldn't tell if something was moving within them.

  She drew her batons and took one step forward.

  "I knew you'd figure it out," Domino said, his high voice echoing in the ruined building.

  "And?"

  "You have to find me."

  "Is this a game to you?"

  "Of course not."

  A glass bottle came at her from the shadows. She ducked but another one came at her, this time shattering over her head. It didn't hurt, but she could hear the tinkling sound of broken glass in her wig.

  Rebecca braced for another attack, but instead, the sound of hurried feet to her right said that Domino was running.

  And he wants me to follow him. It would be short-sighted to let him determine the field of battle.

  She looked around and saw an obviously unstable staircase in front of her.

  Higher ground, make him come to me.

  Rebecca ran for it, taking the rickety stairs two at a time. She was almost at the top when her foot when straight through the rotted step. One baton fell from her hand as she reached to grab the stair above the one her foot had gone through. She tried to pull her leg out but it was stuck.

  "You're not paying attention," Domino said behind her.

  Rebecca tried to turn but something heavy fell across her back, pain blossoming where the spasm had been last night.

  Blast and damn!

  Another blow, this time across her shoulders. Rebecca pulled on her leg and finally got it free just as Domino swung the two-by-four down once again. She dodged but misjudged where she was. Her heel slipped off the end of the step and she just barely stopped herself from falling off the edge. The moment her feet were solidly back on the stairs, Rebecca sprinted to the top. Domino tried to trip her just before she reached the last stair. She drove her boot square into his face, he squealed and clutched his nose.

  The room that the stairs led to was even worse than the downstairs one. There was a smell of bad food, human waste, and something else she couldn't place. Something crunched under her boots, but she couldn't figure out what it was. The room was full of mostly broken windows, and in one corner sat the remains of a grand piano.

  "I've never had one fight back," Domino said.

  He threw another bottle at her and she dodged.

  "Infuriating I bet."

  "In some ways, it's better."

  He lunged for her and Rebecca went to punch him. But it was a feint on his part. His knife flashed in the low light, and she saw too late that he was aiming for her arm. The blade cut through her reinforced fabric like it was nothing and left a long gash down her arm.

  She punched him and he laughed it off, advancing on her.

  Whether it was because of how much Domino unsettled her, or because she was indeed getting too old for all this, Rebecca felt bone churning fear begin to settle in her gut.

  He lunged for her again and she delivered a roundhouse to his face, then a punch to his stomach. But he caught her fist and pushed her.

  Rebecca was surprised to find that her back connected with the moldy wal
l. How had he backed her into a corner without her noticing?

  She glanced at the blade and back at him.

  He drugged me!

  Domino grinned.

  "That's cheating," she said through clenched teeth.

  "Not according to my rules."

  She backhanded him and slid toward one of the broken out windows. If she could somehow make it outside, maybe the fresh air would keep her alert enough to make it to her contact at the Jet City Hospital.

  Rebecca took the cheap shot of kicking Domino in the groin, he groaned with the pain of it and doubled over. She had a moment to wonder if maybe she could beat him after all when her arm began to tingle.

  Know when to retreat to win another day. Damn him!

  A brief flash of what could've been lightning shone out of the corner of her eye, followed by a low rumble of thunder, or a passing truck, Rebecca couldn't tell. She looked through the broken window at a dumpster full of what looked like fabric of some kind. Where it came from and if it was infested with bugs was a concern Rebecca couldn't afford at that moment. Domino was recovering and he looked like he wanted to start skinning her.

  One of her legs was over the ledge when Domino tried to snag her arm. It threw her off balance and she fell through the window on her side. Rebecca curled into a ball just before hitting the fabric in the dumpster.

  Domino screamed at her from the window, his face red with rage.

  Rebecca forced her now aching body to scramble out of the dumpster. The tingling in her arm was getting worse and her back was starting to cramp.

  "C'mon old girl," she said, stumbling across the street to her motorcycle. "You've gotten out of worse."

  #

  Thunder boomed closer as Rebecca made her way to the Jet City General Hospital. The wound on her arm was bleeding heavier than she'd thought and the tips of her fingers were now numb. A seed of panic was beginning to grow in her chest.

  She had no idea what Domino had dosed her with, if it was deadly or just meant to knock her out.