Man Made Mothers: Prologue Beta

 The following is a Prologue for beta reading for my series tentatively named, "Man Made Mothers"

Man Made Mothers
Prologue Test

It’s cold, the fear part of the fight or flight response that runs roughshod throughout my body, glacially so. Colder than the rain saturated pavement that my body impacts. The pain of the collision with the ground sends vibrating shockwaves of sheer agony throughout my entire being. I let out a howling scream of pain. The man whose back I had leapt on in a sheer act of defiance and utter stupidity, whose bloody mess of an ear I had just bitten off and spat out, lay on top of me.

No doubt he's proud of himself for using his entire weight to slam me into the ground. I imagine he hopes that this will take me out of the fight, allowing him and his fellow lap dogs the opportunity to take what they came here for. My wife. What they didn't account for is that my beloved Enri was former Sentinel CorpSec special operations, and over the course of the last few moments of this blood soaked ambush, she'd already felled two of the four of these bastards and was locked in combat with the third. For my part, I had at least managed to pull this wretches attention away from her. Give her some space.

Pride, arrogance or hubris makes men like this think they've won against women like me all the time. I imagine he thinks he has me beaten, my blood soaked teeth gritting through levels of pain I’ve never felt before in my life. He's wrong, they always are, I'm not a fighter but love can make miracles happen. I wrap my legs around his midsection and squeeze with everything I have. I wrap my arms around his neck, locking my fingers like Enri taught me. I am the hangman's gallows of his death and I will choke the life out of him or die trying. I have to win this for the woman carrying my child, she needs me to win this.

The sudden realization of the abject failure of his arrogance slams in to him as I give my all to crushing his throat. He thrashes about on the ground, legs kicking wildly and arms lashing out hands clawing at my face. I do not let go though, that icy cold terror has melted into unbridled rage and sheer fury. I feel it, burning in my chest, a wellspring of power and strength I did not know I had.

“Just five pounds of pressure is all it takes love”

I hear my wife’s words echoing in my mind, a memory of the first day she taught me to shoot a gun. The gun that I notice is still resting in its holster as I thrash about on the ground with this man. If I can reach it and tug it loose, I can end this. I just have to use one arm to reach it, just the one. I use my left hand to claw at his larynx, digging my fingers in to his flesh. My right moves out for the weapon and I find purchase. I don't know how, but I manage to free the weapon and plant the barrel of it snuggly against his midsection.

Just five pounds of pressure is all it takes love.

I pull the trigger, the crack of super sonic metal leaving the barrel would no doubt echo throughout this space, if it were not muffled by his flesh. One. Two. Three. Each muffled boom signaling another bullet has torn through his body. Each pull of the trigger gives me the reaction I want. I feel his body convulse and spasm and hear him gurgle and spit up blood as he lets out surprised yelps of pain. Four. One last round for good measure and I feel it, I feel his body fall limp and lifeless. I feel the warmth of blood spilling out from the mortal wounds I just inflicted and on to the rain soaked pavement.

Dropping the weapon to the ground and finding what little strength I have left in me. I slowly force this mountain of a man off of me. His corpse rolling face first in to the ground.

"Enjoy, hell, you bastard.." I wrathfully quip, spitting blood out as one last act of defiance against my attacker.

I lay there for a moment letting the drops of that cold rain fall against my face. I give myself a few slight seconds to gasp for air, to catch my breath, to let the adrenaline high come down, before rolling over on to my stomach and pushing myself up. I feel the lightning bolts scatter throughout my body, incredible pain, but I push through it. I have to push through it. I stumble to my fight to find that Enri has won, all three of the rest of our attackers are slain and cast about the space. I feel the tears well up in my eyes, I'm all but useless next to her, it took everything I had to take down one and she took down three.

I shake my head. No, don't do that to yourself Anna, your wife loves you, you have value. You won, you protected her and your child.

Once I've managed to come to my senses, I run to Enri and kneel down gently placing my hand on her bloody and beaten face and my other on her stomach. "Baby, baby, come on wake up." She's barely holding on to consciousness and the glacial cold of fear washes over me again until she slowly opens her eyes and forces a smile.

"You got one love, proud of you..." the smirk she gives me is infectious, one of the many reasons I fell in love with her. She's a smartass, even at the worst of times, but she's MY smartass. 

"You big idiot, you had me horrified.." I reply, tears now streaming down my face, the floodgates are open. "Come on love, we have to get on our feet and get moving, they'll send more soon." I use what strength I have left to help my love to her feet. "I remembered by the way."

"Remember what?" Enri asks. 

"Five pounds of pressure" I retort, a big grin on my face, still flushed thanks in part to the tears.

"Good, I'm proud of you." she adds and I'm proud of myself as well. 

That pride will have to wait though, we're alone in this hate and bigotry filled world and corporate greed wants what I've helped to make happen. The first successful pregnancy in a trans woman in human history. At the hands of another trans woman no less, and our child is biologically ours. Some demand to know how I've made this happen. Others want to destroy us as they label us unnatural abominations.

None of them will have us. None of them will have our joy. I will see to it.