Serpent

by Trish Heinrich

  "So it's just you and one other man?"

  "And enough explosives to level this building and the surrounding buildings. That is, unless I stop the countdown."

  "You would die?"

  "No. Come now, what purpose would that serve? But I will leave Mr. Germaine's daughter here to perish if he doesn't come with us. So, what will it be?"

  In answer, Rebecca feinted a punch to his stomach and swept his legs out from under him. He fell hard on his backside and kicked her as she was about to pin him to the dusty cement floor.

  Rebecca fell back onto a machine, the impact flaring up the disc in her back and knocking the baton from her hand.

  Not now, not now!

  Ignoring it for the moment, Rebecca ducked under Mr. Fry's punch and delivered one of her own to his midsection, followed by another to his side. He grunted in pain, and backhanded her.

  Her split lip started bleeding again, and the wound her head began to throb but she pushed that away too. She had to knock him out at least and find the baby. Then she could get Zeke and escape somehow.

  "As much as I like proving how weak you are, I'm afraid we are running out of time," Mr. Fry said, punching her in the stomach.

  The wind momentarily left her, and Rebecca doubled over. She shoved her shoulder into Mr. Fry, hoping to push him back or off balance, but she succeeded in neither.

  He's built like a tank!

  Mr. Fry picked her up by her upper arms and threw her into the same machine. Now the pain flared hot and excruciating in her back and Rebecca couldn't move.

  "So disappointing," he said, kicking her in the face.

  Rebecca tasted blood. He kicked her in the stomach next and her gut felt like it was on fire.

  She could see him pulling his foot back for another attack and rolled out of the way, under the machine.

  "Retreat? That's probably wise," Mr. Fry said, his grin wide and bright. "But what now?"

  "Now it's my turn."

  Rebecca stared at Zeke, who plunged the knife he'd brought from the tunnel into Mr. Fry's back without a second's hesitation.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  10

  In spite of a raging headache from Serpent's blow to his head, Zeke felt like his mind was the clearest it had ever been in his life. He knew what he had to do in order to rescue his daughter and keep her safe.

  Mr. Fry would have to die.

  He felt the knife slide between bone and muscle, a sick, grating sensation that went up his arm. When he pulled it out, the red that blossomed on Mr. Fry's suit jacket reminded Zeke of the blood on Justine's shirt, and he raised the knife to stab the bastard again.

  But Mr. Fry turned and punched Zeke hard in the stomach.

  Zeke doubled over, fury driving the pain from his mind in an instant.

  "You've grown some teeth, haven't you?" Mr. Fry said.

  Ignoring him, Zeke swiped the knife at the man who'd made his life hell. He jumped back, and Zeke tried again.

  "Scared?" Zeke asked, relishing the sight of Mr. Fry backing away from him for a change.

  "A little impressed actually," Mr. Fry said. "Tell me how good are you at diffusing bombs?"

  "About as good as you are at being a human being."

  Mr. Fry was backed against a machine, his breathing faster than Zeke could ever remember, and a faint sheen of sweat glistened on his face.

  "All this over Justine?" Mr. Fry asked. "You know she spread her legs for most of the men on my payroll. Are you even sure the baby is yours?"

  "Don't let him bait you," Serpent said, limping toward them.

  "Go get my daughter," Zeke said.

  "I can't do that."

  "Go!"

  "Zeke, you don't have to do this," Serpent said.

  "You don't know what he's like," Zeke said, every moment of torture flashing through his mind in an instant.

  The thought that Mr. Fry could do any of that to his beautiful daughter made Zeke's blood boil.

  "Then try it," Mr. Fry said.

  Zeke ignored Serpent's yell and lunged for Mr. Fry. He grabbed Zeke's wrist and twisted, almost dislocating the joint. The knife fell from his fingers and Zeke yelled, more out of frustration than pain.

  Mr. Fry let Zeke go and punched him hard across the face, sending Zeke sprawling to the dusty floor.

  "Maybe I've overestimated your usefulness," Mr. Fry said, picking up the knife.

  Serpent tried to throw a punch at him, but he batted her away like she was an insect. Zeke could tell that she'd hurt her back again by the trouble she had moving.

  He stood up and ducked under Mr. Fry's attempt to stab him. It was sloppy though, and Zeke stumbled to the side, falling near one of the machines. He saw a rusted pipe nearby, just the right thickness for a club and picked it up.

  Serpent made another attempt to attack, this one just as sloppy as the last and Mr. Fry picked her up by her shirt.

  "Goodbye Serpent," he said, raising the knife up.

  Zeke swung the pipe, connecting with Mr. Fry's knee. The man yelled, dropping both Serpent and the knife. Zeke scrambled to grab the knife, but so did Mr. Fry. They grappled, rolling on the floor with the knife clutched between them.

  There was a moment when Zeke knew he'd never be able to overpower Mr. Fry for control of the knife. And in that moment was a strange, terrible peace.

  But just before Zeke was sure to feel the cold tip of the knife in his flesh, Serpent threw the pipe at Mr. Fry. He shifted just a little to dodge the pipe, and Zeke saw his chance.

  The knife slid into Mr. Fry's diaphragm and up into his chest. They stared at each other for a split second and then Zeke scrambled away from Mr. Fry.

  He didn't need to use his powers to know exactly what was happening in Mr. Fry's body, the terror of suffocation as he drowned slowly in his own blood. Mr. Fry struggled against it, trying to get up or breath. But after a few minutes he lay back, sightless eyes staring up.

  Zeke could only gape at him, a feeling of relief and guilt making his limbs useless. It wasn't until he felt Serpent's hand on his arm that he was able to snap out of it.

  "We have to find your daughter and get out of here."

  He nodded, but couldn't seem to look away from the dead man.

  "Hey," she grabbed his face in her hands, the gloves sticky with grime. "Don't think about him now. You can think about it later. Right now, we need to find your baby, ok?"

  "Yes, ok," Zeke jumped to his feet, a sudden renewed purpose within him. "I'll check-"

  The baby's renewed cries cut him off. They both bolted as quickly as their wounded bodies would let them toward the side door.

  Sitting in front of it was a basket. Inside, swathed in fluffy towels, was his squalling daughter.

  Zeke fell to his knees and looked down. She was shaking and obviously very upset, but otherwise, she looked just as perfect as she had an hour ago when she was born.

  "If Mr. Fry was telling the truth, we have to get out of here," Serpent said, bending down to pick up something that had been left by the basket.

  It was a clock, showing only five minutes left.

  He met Serpent's eyes. "The tunnel, if we're out there we might get hit with shrapnel."

  They took off for the basement stairs.

  "Let's hope the bootleggers built very strong ones," Serpent said.

  They got through the door to the tunnel and several feet inside it when Zeke saw Justine's body.

  Serpent took the basket without a word and ran ahead as Zeke kissed Justine's lips. They had already started to cool, and her skin felt unnatural. He knew then that whatever part of Justine that had made up the woman he loved, it was gone now. Only an empty shell remained.

  "I love you, and I'll take care of our little girl, I swear."

  He kissed her on the forehead and ran after Serpent. The tunnel began to shake, and dust fell from above. Zeke prayed that the tunnel held just long enough for them to get out when the section behind him began to collapse. Putting on a burst of speed
, he grabbed Serpent's arm and pulled her along with him.

  They ran for several more feet before Zeke realized that the cave in had stopped, and the sounds of explosions were no longer booming overhead.

  Serpent was covered in dust, and so was the basket. He reached down and looked into the small, scared eyes of his daughter.

  "It's ok," he crooned. "It's gonna be ok."

  He looked up at Serpent. "Right?"

  She smiled. "Right."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  11

  Rebecca was relieved to open the door at the end of the tunnel and smell the pungent salt and seaweed air of the small dock where the rich moored their yachts. She'd been tempted of late to sell hers and was very glad that she had decided against it.

  They boarded her large boat and stared at the flames that engulfed where they'd just been. Sirens blared in the distance and the baby once again started to cry.

  "I bet she's hungry," Rebecca said.

  "Yes," he said, staring down at the baby.

  "I'll phone my butler, he can figure something out."

  "Butler?" Zeke asked.

  She motioned for him to follow her below deck.

  "Until you get settled somewhere you and your daughter can stay with me," Rebecca said.

  "I... There's so much that needs to be done..."

  Zeke stared at his daughter, a look of confusion and loss in his face. Rebecca knew that look, she'd seen it on hundreds of people's faces through the years. For all her heroism, Rebecca usually left those people to find their own way, believing that her time was better spent seeking out the next criminal.

  But looking at this man who'd lost so much in one night, Rebecca knew she couldn't do that.

  Maybe ever again. Good god, perhaps I should retire after tonight.

  "Don't worry about that right now," she said, picking up the receiver and dialing. "Just, one thing at a time."

  #

  It took her butler, a stiff Englishman named Mr. Devin, almost an hour to get to them. In that time, Rebecca had helped Zeke clean the baby up and find something for her to suck on. She fell asleep with Zeke holding her, his eyes never straying far from the child.

  Somehow, Mr. Devin had scrounged up baby formula, bottles, diapers, and blankets. He was the most resourceful person she'd ever met, so Rebecca didn't question how he'd managed it, but Zeke was shocked.

  When they pulled up to the stately pillars and perfectly groomed shrubs of the Frost Mansion, Zeke's jaw dropped.

  "Who...?"

  "You'll find out soon," Rebecca said, her body aching as she stepped from the car. "But first, a bath. Mr. Devin, would you please show Mr. Germaine and his daughter to a room?"

  "Of course Madam. I took the liberty of preparing the front guest suite and laying out some night clothes."

  Rebecca smiled. "Thank you."

  Zeke froze in the doorway, staring around him. "I don't...Serpent I'm not-"

  "You are my guest," she said, pulling him in. "No questions until you've had a bath and some food. Give me an hour and we will talk in the library. Mr. Devin, we will take a supper in there."

  "Very good Madam."

  She watched Zeke follow Mr. Devin up the wide, grand staircase and felt everything crash in on her. More than her body hurt as she made her up the stairs and to her private suite of rooms. All she wanted was a good soak and to sleep for a week, but there was much to be done and it couldn't wait.

  The bath was waiting for her, hot and wonderful. She took a little time for herself, trying to soak away the muscle spasms and cuts. Her body was a veritable map of the battles she'd fought. Scars pocked and crossed her torso, her legs, and even her upper arms. The amount of makeup it took to hide her "hobby" was getting ridiculous, along with the fact that soon, her body would betray her completely.

  It was shocking to realize that she was relieved to have a valid excuse to quit. If tonight was the last mission, then she'd make it count. She'd give Zeke and his daughter the kind of life Justine would want them to have.

  A plan had taken form by the time she was dressed in pajamas and a soft robe. She walked down to the library, where a small fire burned in the huge fireplace, and a light supper was laid out on a sideboard. A double bourbon sat next to her usual overstuffed chair and she smiled at Devin as he opened the door for Zeke.

  He stared at the room, obviously uncomfortable in such splendor.

  "Please," Rebecca said, gesturing to the food. "Help yourself to whatever food or drink you'd like."

  Zeke paused before walking to the sideboard to load a plate. Rebecca ran a hand through her dark, graying hair, fingers massaging a very tender scalp.

  "Do you have need of the doctor, Madam?" Devin asked.

  Rebecca glanced at Zeke and shook her head.

  Devin cocked an eyebrow, but other than that had nothing to say.

  "Would you leave us, Mr. Devin? Mr. Germaine and I have private matters to discuss."

  "Of course Madam. I will have a list of suggested nannies on your desk in the morning."

  "Thank you."

  "Nannies?" Zeke asked, sitting with a stiff unease on the chair next to Rebecca.

  "For now, yes. You'll need someone much better than I am at taking care of your daughter while we work out the particulars of your new life."

  He nodded, chewing absently on a piece of cheese.

  "Do you need me to heal you?" he asked after a few minutes.

  "When you've eaten, that would be very helpful."

  Zeke studied her and frowned.

  "What is it?" she asked.

  "Well...it's just...um..."

  "Out with it. I think we've been through too much for delicate talk, don't you?"

  "You're older than I thought you'd be."

  Rebecca chuckled, a low throaty sound. "I think that every time I look in the mirror."

  "How long have you been Serpent?"

  "Almost twenty years."

  Zeke coughed in surprise.

  "Yes, I feel that way too," Rebecca admitted. "And I think I'm at last ready to retire. But that's a talk for another day. We need to discuss your future."

  Zeke laughed, a mirthless, empty sound. "What future?"

  "Come now, you're a doctor. You must -"

  "I'm a Negro doctor, that makes me unacceptable to most people and therefore I don't get hired. Not that it matters, my medical license was tied up with Mr. Fry and his organization anyway."

  "How so?"

  "They thought it would help me to know how to use my powers and also to get me into more places. They were mostly right anyway."

  Rebecca sipped her drink. "I think I can take care of that."

  "How?"

  "The less you know, the better. The question is, do you want to practice?"

  Zeke frowned and stared into the fire. After several minutes he nodded. "I like helping people."

  Rebecca smiled at him. "I have just the place then. That run down neighborhood, Park Side? It needs a new doctor for its clinic. In truth, it needs a new clinic, but we must start with what we can accomplish. And one of my apartment buildings might have a vacancy, I can get you an apartment."

  "Why would you do this? You owe me nothing and I owe you-"

  "Nothing," she said, her voice firm. "After what you've been through, you owe me nothing. I do this because I can and I want to. But if you want to pay me back in any way-"

  "Yes, please. I hate not making my own way."

  Rebecca nodded, her admiration growing for this young man. "The woman I'm training to take my place, she will get injured in the line of duty..."

  "I understand. And I can keep a secret, you have my word."

  "Thank you."

  They sat in silence after that. Rebecca sipping her drink and Zeke slowly making his way through two plates of food.

  "I never thought..." Zeke said, wiping his eyes. "Is it terrible that I feel relief that he's dead?"

  Rebecca sighed. "I realize that as decent people we are expe
cted to feel great guilt when we take a life. But in my experience, there are times when we know, in our soul, that though it might not be right, we had no other choice."

  She could feel Zeke's eyes on her, studying.

  "You've killed someone?" he asked.

  She nodded. "But you didn't kill Mr. Fry."

  "Yes-."

  "No," she pinned him to the spot with her stare, wanting her words to sink down into his very bones. "It was a fight, and it was you or him. There was no choice, no moment when you could've stopped it from happening. You are a good man, Zeke. You are not a killer."

  Zeke looked away, and Rebecca could see that he was willing himself to believe her words.

  "It's very late," she said, standing with great care. "You can heal me tomorrow."

  "If you're sure."

  "Yes, and don't hesitate to ring for Mr. Devin if you need help with the baby."

  "Doesn't he sleep?"

  Rebecca couldn't help a laugh. "Mr. Devin is a creature of otherworldly stamina and resources. I'm not even sure I've ever seen him sick."

  "Alright, thank you. I'll just sit here for a little while."

  She paused in the doorway, knowing why Zeke was reluctant to go upstairs. She'd been the same way when Emily had died. Even going so far as to move her rooms to the other side of the house just so she wouldn't be in the same rooms they'd shared.

  "Good night Zeke," she said.

  "Good night...what's your real name?"

  "Rebecca Frost. You can call me Rebecca in private."

  He nodded. "Good night Rebecca."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  12

  Two weeks felt to Zeke like it flew by and crawled at the same time. His daughter, which he decided to call Rose after Justine's grandmother, was healthy and thriving. In fact, she was getting the precious chubby rolls that babies were known for. He loved tickling her stomach and feet, watching for an involuntary smile to light up her face. Holding her while she slept or drank her bottle were times of solace and healing for him, even if he always ended up crying.

  The nanny that Mr. Devin had found was a round, bright-eyed woman with white hair and a habit of inserting French words into her crooning sentences. She was kind and seemed to adore Rose, so Zeke was inclined to like her.