Published in Canada by Engen Books, St. John’s, NL.
Copyright © 2017 Matthew LeDrew
NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED OR TRANSMITTED IN ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS, ELECTRONIC OR MECHANICAL, INCLUDING PHOTOCOPYING AND RECORDING, OR BY ANY INFORMATION STORAGE OR RETRIEVAL SYSTEM WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THE AUTHOR, EXCEPT FOR BRIEF PASSAGES QUOTED IN A REVIEW.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Distributed by:
Engen Books
www.engenbooks.com
Ebook ISBN-13: 978-1-926903-71-2
BLACK WOMB: HABEAS CORPUS
MATTHEW LEDREW
In the style of 80s teen slasher movies comes Black Womb, the story of four Maine teens being stalked by a relentless, shadowy killer. As more and more of their friends are picked off, the killer is revealed to work for a sinister government agency with deep ties to one of the teens and the deep secret they’re hiding.
Table of Contents
BLACK WOMB: HABEAS CORPUS MATTHEW LEDREW
BOOK ONE: BLACK WOMB
PROLOGUE: SHE RAN
CHAPTER ONE: SMALL TOWN
CHAPTER TWO: CADAVER
CHAPTER THREE: INJECTED
CHAPTER FOUR: SPIDER WEB
CHAPTER FIVE: GOOD TIME
CHAPTER SIX: ZONE
CHAPTER SEVEN: ENGEN
CHAPTER EIGHT: GENBLADE
CHAPTER NINE: TRUTH
CHAPTER TWELVE: OUT
EPILOGUE
BOOK TWO: TRANSFORMATIONS IN PAIN
INTERLUDE: SHE RAN
CHAPTER ONE: CONFESSION
CHAPTER TWO: PICTURES
CHAPTER THREE: SUPER HERO
CHAPTER FOUR: HEAD FIRST
CHAPTER FIVE: TRANSFORMATIONS IN PAIN
CHAPTER SIX: REAL EVIL
CHAPTER SEVEN: FEVER DREAM
CHAPTER EIGHT: POWER
CHAPTER NINE: CASE CLOSED
BOOK THREE: SMOKE AND MIRRORS
INTERLUDE: SHE RAN
CHAPTER ONE: WHERE THERE’S SMOKE
CHAPTER TWO: REFLECTION
CHAPTER THREE: POWERLESS
CHAPTER FOUR: HOSPITAL FOOD
CHAPTER FIVE: SMOKING GUN
CHAPTER SIX: HUMANITY
CHAPTER SEVEN: CRANE
CHAPTER EIGHT: TRIALS AHEAD
CHAPTER NINE: REMATCH
CHAPTEN TEN: SEE
CHAPTER ELEVEN: AN ENDING
EPILOGUE
MORE TITLES BY MATTHEW LEDREW
Bio: Matthew LeDrew
BOOK ONE: BLACK WOMB
PROLOGUE:
SHE RAN
She turned around fast, too afraid to blink.
She was running so fast that great clumps of her knotted black hair swung into her eyes while she searched the snow covered hillside desperately, brief breaks in the cloud cover providing her with enough visibility to make out movement in the dense forest behind her.
Breath escaped her mouth in great white puffs, swirling around her head like cigarette smoke. Her eyes darted across the waving white horizon of the small clearing she had just sprinted across. Panting loudly, she tried to hear above the sound of her breath and the snow crunching beneath her bare feet, now blue and numb from hours of constant running.
She tried to wiggle her toes but the exertion on her frozen extremities sent bolts of electric pain up her legs and into her spine, finally exploding out the back of her head. She decided not to do it again.
She took one last heave as she leaned against a large oak tree next to her. Her back muscles tensed even more for a moment, then finally loosened for the first time in hours. She closed her eyes only briefly. They stung fiercely from the dry cold and days without sleep. Adjusting the large bulge of blankets she had stuffed under her shirt for warmth, she placed one arm firmly beneath them and huddled them close to her breasts.
A sound in front of her made her eyes snap open once again, her large pupils instantly scanning the landscape relentlessly. There was no wind, and the thick patches of evergreen trees scattered throughout the clearing hung as lifelessly as if they were in a painting. Their heavy branches were weighed down by the snow, making them droop and resemble old sagging faces. They glared at her like gargoyles, each one of them screaming, scowling, laughing and passing judgment on her with their collective brows turned downward in horrible sneers of distaste.
Every movement of the branches, every rustling of a shrub, became a possible danger. Became the idea that something could be there, looking back across the field for any sign of movement, just as she was.
She held her breath until her chest ached even more, her heart rate climbing. Her veins felt like they were on fire, a stark contrast to her skin, which was now turning blue from the intense cold. She knew it had been a bad idea to stop moving, but she had to.
An owl let go of the branch a few feet above her, not making a sound. The snow loosened from the dead branch and fell to the ground, becoming invisible once there. The great bird circled a small area around her before flying silently off to the south and deeper into the woods, where she had been heading.
She chuckled to herself softly, shaking her head at her own paranoia. She had not only doubled, but tripled back upon herself more than once. She had purposely walked in three large circles every mile since she had started running, hours ago. The only thing she had not done was cover her tracks, a near impossibility when wading through three feet of snow.
Keeping a suspicious eye on the open slope before her, she began to examine herself. The black parka she had stolen was still in relatively good condition. It had only been ripped once or twice at the elbows by stray tree limbs. The brown fox fur that lined the neck was still completely intact and had managed to keep her upper body at least a little warm. That kept her heart and lungs warm and kept them pumping warm blood and air through her body, giving them the strength and vitality they would not have had otherwise. Below the waist was only the bottom half of a simple nightdress and a normal paper hospital gown. It provided about as much protection against the cold as ‘thinking
