There was no time to be selfish and wallow in his own pain while friends were hardly leaping distance. Edgar decided that he would tell the gang what was wrong. They needed to know that he only had about one week to live. From their perspective, their first week as the Raven Gang involved being framed for murder, robbery, assault, and meeting a giant bat. If such strange things as those can turn worlds upside down, then there was no reason to think there isn’t a chance there’s another way he could be saved.
Edgar shoved off the rest of the snow from his back and hopped with his wings over to the building’s entrance. It would take a while, but he would make them understand everything.
It was another new day. Both in Washington D.C. and San Francisco the sun was up and detectives John Hunter and Rita Guajardo were fresh and ready to continue more digging into the Serpent League. They started early, filling up on coffee and orange juice along with some bagels that the charming officer Jacob Brent supplied. He was too generous to accept any kind of gratuity. All he had to assure them was: “I want you both and the rest of the department to be as sharp and awake as possible today. Later I’ll show you something that could pop your brains out!” They were graced by his enthusiasm, and they felt that they already had a day’s work completed in only three hours.
Jacob was gone now, off preparing for something as Hunter and Guajardo shuffled documents around as if they were Santa’s helpers on Christmas Eve. Running ‘The Serpent League’ through the station’s database churned out several files that looked useful. At one point in the earlier part of the decade, various employees of Elder Inc. were under investigation for embezzlement because of the millions of dollars that their accountants claimed had magically disappeared. When they found the culprits, one of whom was the CFO of the company, all he had to say was that his life depended on it and that the Serpent League made him do it.
Several other similar incidents were recorded, but the money was never wholly found. Another incident, or a series of tiny ones, was a report about a mysterious figure coming to various politician’s and scientist’s homes that no one should have found the addresses to. Other random people with varying jobs had the same visit by the strange person. Though no one ever talked to him/her. All they did was leave a business card on the door with the League’s serpent logo, along with the phrase “You’ve been chosen as a likely candidate for the future of life. You have the option of being spared”.
“Alright, I get it.” Rita said to herself, flopping through pages. “These people who got these cards have to have a real connection.”
“Most of them are well-to-do and of high rank.” Hunter replied.
“Yes, but what about the others, like Ashely, this fifteen-year-old from Ireland? She’s not even in the country. And the only reason we know this is because she reported it. What about all the ones who didn’t?”
Hunter fingered his chin. “We could be looking at something international. Something way beyond our jurisdiction.”
“Let’s think small picture for a moment. Some of these people are in San Francisco, so we’ll see what similarities we can pull together with these few, and then work outwards.”
“Good idea.” he replied. “But if we can pause a moment, I have something we should both make sure we know the answer to before we proceed.”
Guajardo nodded. “I’m listening.”
“You and I are the only ones that know the truth about the Raven Gang here, and we’re doing work that we’re not supposed to right now. Thankfully the fact that my daughter has joined them is something no one knows yet.” His brow arched, and his eyes seemed like they were partially ice. “I’ll be damned if I don’t let myself see this thing through to the end and know there is no more chance my daughter and her friends will be harmed. When this comes out…”
“We will need to confess our parts.” she finished.
“But still one thing at a time. I’m ready to own up to my part, no matter what the personal consequences are, and I can’t help but feel I’m responsible for dragging you into this. You’re my partner and my daughter just turned out-”
“John, don’t think of it like that at all.” she assured, giving him a light hug. “I may not have been literally doing what I was supposed to lately as part of my job as a detective, but fighting in DC last week and helping to stop whatever scheme Elder was cooking up, that was the moral thing to do. I don’t need to be dragged into a situation that I know needs my intervention, I jump on it myself.”
“Thanks, Rita. It makes me happy to her that.” He was smiling again.
They hugged for another several seconds. Their proud moment would only have lasted three or four seconds, but Hunter spotted something on the table over Rita’s shoulder. He was trying to make out what it was and lost track of how long they had been embracing. He gave Rita an impromptu shove, startling her.
“Wealthy. Many of these people had good living.”
Rita steadied her feet. “Uh, that’s a safe assumption. What’s wrong?”
“Most of these good neighborhoods have cameras, even their own security force sometimes.”
“Where are you going with this?” she asked, feeling silly for the pedantry.
Hunter dashed over to the table with all the files. Many of them had several photos tucked with a paper clip against stapled printed reports. Some of them had images of the Serpent League’s card, but none of them had the mysterious figure that people claimed to have seen. He tried his best to put everything into a tangible order. He presented the messy display to her as if he were Sherlock Holmes.
“Tell me, what do you see in all of these pictures?”
Each photograph Hunter organized had a twin. That image was one that was taken by the cameras thirty seconds after the first one. By the time the second image had been taken, the Serpent League’s card was pinned to the front door.
“I’ll tell you what I don’t see; I don’t see any trace of the mysterious man beside the card now on the door. What do you see that I don’t?”
“You see it too.” he pointed to the series of initial photographs, to the bottom corner were a small dark bird ominously stood. “We’ve been going at this incorrectly.”
“How so?”
“We’ve assumed our guy was human.”
If Guajardo had been sipping water, she would have choked on it. “You’re honestly trying to tell me that this bird is our culprit?”
“One thing I guess I’ve forgotten to tell you is that my daughter’s recent update on her front included the introduction of a young woman named BJ Elder.”
“The guy’s daughter, who is supposed to be dead?”
“Yes. Do try to keep up. Anyway, it turns out she’s alive and she has the ability to shapeshift into all kinds of creatures. She doesn’t know much about how or why she has her powers, but she knows enough to know that the Serpent League has made its mark on her, and I’m willing to believe that based on the evidence,” he redirected her attention to the series of photographs in which the crow, raven, pigeon, or whatever bird, was in the corner of every photo. In the next image, the bird was always gone, and the card left stuck to the victim’s front door. “there may be more like her, such as whoever this bird is.”
“Unreal.” Guajardo said as she slumped into her desk chair. “I’m not saying that’s impossible, but assuming this idea is true, how do we go about uncovering their identity?”
“Do you think it’s possible to track the bird’s flying route? Maybe since some birds fly south for winter it will be easier.”
“Nice idea, but urban birds don’t do that. We need to figure something else out.”
“If Lindsey’s team has any more breakthroughs I won’t hold anything more back from you. Sometimes even the smallest-”
The thundering of multiple shot gun blasts paraded through the station. Hunter and Guajardo dove down away from the desks and on to the floor. Before either of them knew it, both of their pistols were in their hands.
�
�Christ!” the female detective shouted. “Get up! It’s not over!”
She helped Hunter to his feet and the two of them unlatched their safeties and took cover behind a small series of pillars that lead to their offices. After safely negotiating the thin hallway, they found that they were not the targets of the ambush. The shooting was going down in the main lobby, and based on the sounds of the fire, there were more than two assailants. Hunter sprang out from hiding ready to shoot, but he hesitated when he saw who it was.
“Brent? What in God’s name have you done?”
The young, baby-faced officer’s mouth was twisted into the most average smile. There was no malice in it. If not for the young man’s surroundings, Hunter would not have thought him a threat.
Behind Brent were two black-cladded armed men with sub-machine guns. Their weapons were pointed dead at several officers who couldn’t find enough time to unsheathe their weapons, and their hands were high in the air. Some other officers who did have the time were now laying bleeding on the cold floor. Their wounds were clearly fatal.
Brent himself had a shotgun in one hand and an army blade in the other. “In the name of the Serpent League, I am taking over the police in this city.”
The two detectives were sheltered by a thick wall. They didn’t have a clear shot at any of the three. The assailants had been quick and smart enough to take hostages right away.
“Put down the guns, detectives, or I start carving promising pupils and near retirees alike.” He waved his blade around as if it were a pinwheel.
Hunter and Guajardo shared a glance. They reluctantly obeyed, dropping their guns to the floor and kicked them over to the man who they assumed was part of the organization they had been trying to spy on. They both knew that was too big of a coincidence.
“Now,” Jacob Brent casually strode along his row of kneeled police hostages. “I’m going to get straight to the point. A couple of you have been secretly aiding the Raven Gang behind everyone’s back. Reveal yourselves now or I’ll personally kill everyone on the block.”
Before Hunter could even connect a thought, he become aware of a darkness that had descended upon the whole building. Light could not get through the windows because of all the birds circling the station.
Black birds.
8
The Ritual of the Snakes
The gang didn’t get any sleep that morning. They were already snuggling up in their fuzzy sheets and shutting the blinds when they saw that Edgar needed their attention, and considering the bat’s recent crestfallen state, they didn’t think twice about coming to his aid. His yellow eyes were sunken in and his wings flap-less. He looked worse than he did when he found out he was the one who killed Doctor Black.
A messy ensemble of word cards were on the floor. Most of the gang was helping Edgar form his words on paper. Slate and Lindsey stuck themselves in the kitchen brewing much needed coffee. Time whizzed by like a coked-up choo choo train. And helping Edgar with writing was no simple feat, since he was no more dexterous with his foot than with his mouth.
It was afternoon by the time everyone understood what was wrong with Edgar. For hours they talked about possible paths to take. Everyone proposed a different solution, some much brighter than others, but in the end they all agreed that Patrick put it best when he said to the bat “We are sure as sugar not suggesting you give yourself to Elder.”
Edgar agreed. It would be a thousand lifetimes before he would be willing to allow himself through that brand of hell again.
Everyone took the revelation hard at first. After thinking it over, a ubiquitous vibe of acceptance filled the room. Things were going too well for them for too long. Another hurdle was bound to pop out any moment, though they assumed it would be in the form of another werewolf or gryphon. But just as Lindsey declared as their emotional talk was concluding, “What’s one more thing to worry about?” she had eased up to Edgar and wrapped her arms around his neck, rubbing the side of his mouth. “We’re going to beat this, pal. We’ve all overcome worse.”
The big mammal appreciated all the honest sentiment. It gave him more comfort than he could have rationalized for himself. He mentally kicked himself, urging himself to remember that he was among a group of exceptional humans.
“I’ve been there before.” BJ was sitting cross-legged and facing Edgar on the floor. “I was way past deathly ill when I was a child. I still remember the blistering pain in my head even after all the treatment. It was like I kept dying and being revived, only to die again and again.”
Edgar grunted. Not a happy picture.
“But it didn’t hold me down forever. It completely took over me for a while, my mind and everything. Where blood like mine can thrive, yours can survive too. There’s a key in this equation somewhere, and I bet the solution is in the heart of the Serpent League.”
And not just the antidote to his sickness, but the answer to Patrick’s visions and their watches.
Jane, Lindsey and Johnny were cooking a fourth meal in the kitchen. Since everyone was still wide awake from Edgar’s confessional time, there was no resting for another few hours. Patrick sat on the couch mulling over the implications. The answer to the riddle that was Elder, Edgar, and the Serpent League was just out of reach, like a name on the tip of your tongue that you can’t swat at. His futile musing was interrupted when two people approached him from the kitchen.
“You hungry at all, bud?” Slate asked.
Patrick pinched his brow. “I don’t think I can eat another mushroom sandwich.”
“We’re running low on supplies, unfortunately,” Johnny was wearing his cooking apron again. “so me and the gals had to get creative with what we had. How does a fried cashew butter and jelly sandwich sound to you?”
“Only like the best thing in the world.” Patrick rose and shadowed them into the kitchen, where now all eight members of the Raven Gang were communed.
Most of the meal was silent. The day was in its zenith, which they weren’t used to, now that all of them were nocturnal animals. Eating as much as they had since he last slept gave Patrick the feeling that he had put on ten pounds, that is, if he didn’t sweat it all out from stress during Edgar’s confession.
The bat was in a sulking position on the edge of the room, slurping his typical viscous glops of blood from a bag out of a vein-like straw, like something a child would use to make eating more fun.
After downing the rest of the fried dough and its innards, Patrick slopped the crumbs off his lips and sat twiddling his thumbs. If no one had anything more to say, he planned on returning to his sheets and catching up on vital snoozing before ramming horns-first into Operation: Save Edgar.
Lindsey’s phone was abuzz.
Turning away from wiping jelly stains off the fryer, she accepted the call with a swipe of her finger.
“Hello?” she answered placidly. “What’s up, Dad?”
The sounds that came to her in reply were hollow. It wasn’t her father. It was like the sound of banging a crow bar in an echoing cave. Somewhere in the layered muffles there was a youthful, pleasant voice, and he was saying things that were anything but.
“What’s the matter?” Gary asked when everyone saw her face change.
“Something’s happening.” the phone was sturdy in her palm. “My dad wanted us to hear this. It sounds like some people have taken over the police station.”
Jane’s sandwich was down on her plate. “Why don’t I believe this isn’t a coincidence?”
“You guys think it’s Elder’s doing?” Slate asked.
“Maybe.” Patrick replied. “He might have gotten impatient with Edgar’s decision.”
Lindsey shushed them. The man somewhere on the other side was making heavy footsteps towards the source of the call, her father. Her hair was beginning to jump. After a moment of silence, the calm voice returned louder than ever. She put in on speaker mode so everyone could hear.
“Could it be you who’s the golden goose, detective?” there w
as still a hint of a muffle, one that would come from having one’s phone in their pocket.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, so bite me, Brent.” another voice said. It was her father.
A pistol cocked in the man named Brent’s hand. “You really expect me to believe that? You were the face of the Raven Gang investigation, then you go and just stop everything after what happened in DC no questions asked? You know something, John. I’m not a patient man.”
There was a second’s pause before Lindsey’s father said, “For an organization as secretive as The Serpent League is supposed to be, you’ve done a really sloppy heist.”
“The Serpent League!” Johnny exclaimed, not much above a whisper.
“There’s no time to lose.” Gary decided. “I know we don’t know all the risks yet, but we need to teleport to that station right now.”
“Why else would my father have called in secret like that?” Lindsey was already putting on her coat. “Let’s get to it, guys. Are we all in agreement on this?” No one had any objections. Edgar too had risen from his position.
“It’s settled.” Patrick had already retrieved his watch, the horror it gave him last time was not even on his mind. “Lindsey, make sure your phone’s volume is as high as it can go. Gary and I need something to concentrate on to get the location correct.”
“Guys…” BJ said after a stutter. “This is just the start of our problems.”
She was a statue in front of the television. The gang darted from the other room, immediately becoming as plastered to the screen as she was. A breaking news report from ABC displayed ground and aerial views of several police stations across the country. The top caption read: ORGANIZATION CALLED “THE SERPENT LEAGUE” HOLDING HUNDREDS OF POLICE STATIONS HOSTAGE. HUNDREDS OF CASUALTIES EXPECTED.
The Serpent League Page 9