“I’m sorry.” he blurted. His flying friend turned around to face him, blinking in interest. “I mean, yes, I’m sorry for you. It sounds like you’ve been through a lot. I know I haven’t been the most sympathetic guy around. So please know I’m going to be better about everything. My life has probably been a hot fudge sundae compared to yours.” He ended by roughly flattening his cigarette against the grass. Smoking didn’t seem polite.
Edgar simply stared back at him. To Gary, it looked as if he were mentally analyzing each word carefully, wondering if they contained some type of secret message. He then unfolded his wing and produced the storybook he had been examining for the last couple hours. Out of courtesy, Gary grabbed it from him.
Before he could confess any more, Edgar was gone, as if he was never there. He flashed open his phone and used the backlight to illuminate the images and text. Quickly skimming though each section of paper he noticed that each of their edges was a much different color than the last, giving it a rainbowish appearance from the lateral side. Beside them a small sequence of numbers containing 1s and 0s ran along the numbered corners. It looked as though they had manually been added, with their color fading away, making it look vintage. As he perused each title and body of each story and silently admired each animation settled beside them, he found in himself a feeling that no cigarette that night or any night had ever provided him. Such stories of magic and sentiment could bring only one thing. Peace.
“If anyone calls for me, tell them I’m busy.” detective Hunter growled to his junior officers. It was still early in the morning and he and his team were pushing for work.
As of the last few minutes they began their morning work by starting with the bank. Time proved that the whole fiasco with the crowd was also a distraction from what was happening there. But that was not the most shocking variable. How could the raven gang have known what he was going to tell the crowd? Could there be a leak in the department? All Hunter was sure about was there was far more to the case than anyone imagined. As he mentally flashed back to when he first saw Black’s torn up, leaking body. Such a death was worth more than a routine scavenger hunt.
He didn’t think much of their motivation for murder. The gang had already established themselves as brutal killers, though the message from their latest mission seemed solely to cause chaos. That part was easily a success.
He felt pure Deja vu as he looked at what had been stained in the marble wall. Written at about the same size as it had been many nights ago was ‘nevermore’. It was just as prominent as the other image permanently printed in his mind. As he stared disdainfully at the note, his partner crept up behind him, sliding a warm cup into his hand.
“Coffee. No cream, two sugars. Your usual. Do we know why the gang struck here yet?”
“It seems they were wise to Black’s box. They took whatever was in there. It was busted up so bad it couldn’t even shut. It wasn’t hard to find.”
“Any other news yet?” she asked.
“Yeah. Last night a while after you left we got a call from one of the psychopaths in the gang. He said any further attempt to reveal their identities would simply stack more bodies.” He took a furious gulp of his bitter coffee. “We’re still unsure what to do. We figure we won’t make any other move until we have enough information to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
“I think we may be able to help with that, detectives.” said an official sounding voice from behind.
The two of them turned to face two approaching figures. The one on the left was draped in a black suit and tie below recently snipped hair. The other they spent no time trying to recognize. It was the man they questioned several days before. “I believe you’ve met my friend Doctor Elder here.”
“And who might you be?” he asked with obvious irritation.
“Agent Grant Patane. FBI.” he flashed his badge and ID in the usual professional way. “And as of right now, the San Francisco Police Department will no longer be involved in the raven gang case. This is now a Federal issue”.
“When was this decided? We were called to the scene this morning.” said Guajardo.
“Last night, shortly after the incident. You both should have gotten calls.”
“Well we didn’t!” Hunter responded.
“Looking back, this case probably should have been ours sooner. Anyway, that’s not why I approached you. The doctor here has something he’d like to tell you.”
“Detectives,” he started. They were both eyeing him intensely. “The analysis of the explosives that the F.B.I has spent the last few hours conducting have already proved one simple thing: that the raven gang somehow has access to advanced forms of weapons. I think that word on the wall speaks for itself.” he raised a steady finger to ‘nevermore’. “Most people don’t realize this, but the research done at Elder Inc. is not exclusively medical. We believe that threats of the domestic variety are a virus of themselves, and must be contained by all means necessary. I am confident that the products of several years of research at my business will be valuable assets to combating the technology possessed by the raven gang.” He casually readjusted his tie. “If not for the benefit of the country, at least for justice for my friend.”
The federal agent, who had not once looked at the doctor once during his monologue, continued his words stoically. “As you can see, the bureau may now have the best weapon at its disposal. I’m sure you’re both a bit upset about losing the case.”
Guajardo’s jaw dropped. “A little? You know how many hours we’ve put into this?”
“Probably a lot I’m sure. Not to undermine you, but Dr. Elder’s help will bring an end to this epidemic. His participation will be immense. He’ll practically have the whole organization in his hands by the time we’re done.” he smiled grimly. “Good day, detectives.”
Hunter, who was angry enough when the morning started, was now furious. He felt like a neglected dog as the two men walked away.
“Fifteen years.” he couldn’t keep calm. “Fifteen goddam years I’ve been a detective, and not once have I needed to have the government on my ass for not doing my job!”
His partner, who was much more able to keep cool, accepted the situation more civilly. “If it’s any consolation, it’s happened to me twice before, and I’ve not nearly been a detective as long as you.”
Hunter was annoyed by her lack of support for him, but he knew she was right. With a case as extreme as the raven gang, they could only kick themselves so hard. With steady determination, he swore that he would still pursue the case, even without the department’s grace. The raven gang had brought chaos and death to the city he swore an oath to protect, and it would take a man of his word to cleanse them from the country.
“I guess it’s back to the office for us.” Hunter said, breaking the long pause.
“John, wait-” Guajardo reached out and landed a firm grasp on his sleeve. “I’ve known you for a while, and I’ve seen that look on your face before. It’s the look of a man about to do something really stupid. The last week has not been easy for any of us, but please, just let this one go.”
Not wanting any more discord, Hunter smiled back. “I know, Rita. All I need is just one full night of sleep and my mind will be back. At least I’ll never have to see that Agent Patane anymore.”
“Patane?” his partner replied. Her eyes showed her mind at work, trying to form some kind of connection. “I remember now! That biologist who co-wrote that one book with Gordon Buchanan, his name was Grant Patane too. I knew I’d remember! Huh, small world.”
After the planned encounter with the detectives, Elder wanted to make a quick stop right around the bank corner, where he had been the night before. He paused by a dusty garbage can and peered inside. There it was, right where he left it. Reaching down, adjusting his sleeve to avoid grimy stains, he extracted a long, thinly layered black cloth. He dragged it from its hea
viest side, from where a drooping hood was attached. Below it in the depths of the trash laid a pistol shaped item. He grabbed it by the muzzle which had long since cooled since the beam of condensed energy had been fired.
Somewhere, sometime not too far in the past or the future, it doesn’t really matter, a clan of young university students were out in the open air. The clan, consisting of two boys and two girls, were keeping up with a childhood tradition of camping in the woods at the start of winter break. The almost violet haze swirling below the moon in the sky reminded them that it was time to put out the crackling flames and zip their tents. Many thousands of miles beyond the spooky layer of fog, the moon was increasingly luminary, and dragged its darkness away until there was nothing left but a full gray moon.
The campers, who consisted of Jacob, Brianna, Derek, and Lauren had earlier been doing things in a divided group. Lauren was left paired with Derek, who were tasked with putting final adjustments on the tents, and Brianna was left with Jacob, who was putting out the struggling fire by drowning it with soil. The main issue was that none of them were especially keen on finishing. There was an awkwardness between two of the students.
Despite the fact that they had been close since the dawn of their memories, Jacob and Lauren had enthusiastically decided to begin a romantic phase of their relationship. For two years they thrived as a couple, but due to irreconcilable circumstances, the romance turned sour, and they broke it off. But the group was still determined to continue their youthful tradition away from their urban lives.
The scene between the two exes gradually grew more uncomfortable for everyone. Lauren remembered what all her other friends told her. Deep down she knew from the start that their foresight was more reliable than hers. She recalled the last words that she heard from her good friend Victoria “Do you know how it feels to try to stay close with an ex after a breakup like yours? It’s a crashed train that won’t fly off the tracks, and sooner or later, you’ll get your heart ripped out.” For some reason she thought those rules would not apply to her and Jacob, that somehow it their whole romantic era would seem no more than a dumb dream as time progressed. Everyone’s obvious discomfort was making it difficult.
Derek felt all the labor was making him thirsty, and he jogged back to their supplies to fetch the canteen. Lauren was then left to herself.
The setting displayed in front of her was made of nothing but trees and scraps of dead ones. A few times a minute she did think she could hear the dimming chirp of birds that seemed to filter from some invisible dimension. Then, as she was uncaringly inspecting a log resting in front of her, a new sound waved though the air. She alertly raised her eyes to the patch of leaves and twigs ahead. Standing there below the gloomy haze was a man who looked no more than two years her senior. The reflected lunar glow was powerfully reflected back from his pale, hairless skin. The next thing she noticed was that he was hardly wearing any clothes.
The little he was wearing was just a darker shade of pale than his skin. It looked to be made out of some doughy substance that’s solid integrity was collapsing. But she hardly had any time to think more as he dashed away from her in a blink, settling somewhere a number of yards away. Intrigued by the sudden appearance and disappearance of the stranger, she wandered over to the grassy patch where he had stood. She fought the urge to get back to her friends. If she went back, the rest of the night would surely be as unbearable as the rest of the trip. Something out of the ordinary finally happened. She was not about to lose her sense of adventure.
As she surveyed the wilderness around she was struck with the arresting sensation that she was being watched. It was a fear that stemmed from the deathly, lonely silence, rather than obvious growls or screeches. This one, in its simplicity, was much more terrifying. As her more human senses were returning to her, the pale man appeared from a cluster of trees. Rather than shouting something at him, she silently waited for him to speak.
But the only response she received was a menacing display of quickly sharpening fangs followed by a deep inhuman growl.
It never occurred to Lauren to run. She was too mystified by the magical transformation unfolding. What used to be bright, pale skin became coated in spikes of fur and the rest of his lean figure was forced onto four legs. With his newly acquired canine body, the former human leaped to the frozen Lauren. With unreal swiftness it dug a claw into her chest. She was still, balancing on the back of her feet. Blood slowly piled up in the back of her throat as the wolf twirled a claw around and her heart was plucked from its beating stand. As the blinding pain turned into dimming darkness, her pumping muscle slipped from her dripping skin, and the last words of her friend echoed in her remaining consciousness “You’ll get your heart ripped out.”
Patrick didn’t return to the cabin until the sun was about to wake up. The troubled raven gang member needed to take extensive time to himself, tirelessly circling the area. He thought about a lot of things. He thought about what Gary told him about his father. He thought about how much pain Gary must have been in all his life. To think about what he endured, and still managing to become a decent adult. And that was probably what impressed him the most.
Up to that point he had thought Gary was simply an arrogant asshole. While that judgement was perhaps not entirely incorrect, it never occurred to him that it was something that he might come to hate within himself. Thinking back on his own life he had to sympathize with him. He could effortlessly pick out a couple high school bullies he still held rage towards and even God himself for taking his father so soon. Gordon Buchanan, whose legacy was now somewhat altered in his son’s mind, couldn’t have done anything to deserve his fate. For the rest of the day he was left to curse at whatever gods were still in control of his pale blue planet while still denying said beings’ existence. Then again, angry belief is still belief. To Patrick, anger was always a better faith motivation than love.
When he entered the room the following night, after yet another solitary walk, Slate and Johnny were huddled around Jane. She was the first to see him.
“Where have you been?” she asked. Everyone rose to their feet.
“I just needed to think. Again. What have you three been doing?”
“We’ve been filling your cousin in on our whole story so far.” Slate responded. “And she has an interesting one too.”
“Having nothing else to do at a moment,” she started. “I checked into our records and apparently some blood was stolen from the hospital. A while back we had a couple incidents where an alarming amount went missing, so the hospital put a tracking system on a few sachets in case any were taken again.”
Patrick was exhausted from the walk so he lazily fell onto the couch like a hungover teen. “How it happened, we have no idea, but I was the only one to notice this time. I put two and two together and followed the tracker to your car at the bank. I’d get rid of the blood right now, in case anyone else checks it.”
“I’ll get on that.” Johnny added. He circled their setting to get a drink of water. “I guess that’s where Edgar hid it.”
“Yeah.” she laughed. “I probably saved your life too.”
If there was any further discussion on the subject Patrick was too far into his own head to perceive it. He shifted his aching joints into a more comfortable position on the couch and threw his head back and shut his eyes. He was slowly drifting to sleep. He felt the couch cushion sink on his side, as someone joined him.
“How are you feeling?”
He shrugged an eye open. Slate was sitting right at his side, his eyes somehow still wide-awake.
“How do you think I am?”
“That stuff Gary said about your dad. Do you think he’s right?”
For the sake of courtesy, Patrick eased the other eye open and edged himself forward, acting like a human. “I don’t know. Even if it is, I feel bad about Gary. I was pretty angry earlier, but I mean, I think I’ve been c
ompletely wrong about him. We all have. Apparently we have more in common than I thought.”
At this point Patrick was fully devoted to his conversation. “And to think of how he’s gotten by all this time: mostly alone, probably turning to books, ideas, or drugs to try to keep his mind calm and create the illusion of company. I can think of times I’ve felt so alone and done things like that, but I’ve always found company one way or another. I can’t imagine never having that safety net of others. I wouldn’t be able to live.”
As he was finishing his words Patrick looked over to Johnny and Jane by the table. He was somewhat irked by their lack of interest in the conversation. They were off having a more private discussion. Slate took a couple seconds before responding to Patrick’s monologue.
“Wow,” he started with a warm smile. “That’s quite a way of seeing it. Patrick,-” he inched himself closer to his friend. “I’m not going to sit here and try to tell you that I know how you feel because life has not been as cruel to me. But from all of us: me, Johnny, Jane, and Lindsey, we all care for you, and I think I should probably throw Edgar into the mix as well. I mean look at him, he’s unnatural. Who knows how long he was alone before he met us. I’d like to think I could gladly save him like he did us, but bottom line, if something like him can wake up every night and choose to live, I’m sure Gary can be okay too.”
Patrick paused to think about his friend’s words. It was hard,since their impact was soothing. For those few seconds, Patrick decided he was happy. His vision begun to get cloudy as he felt the dam of his eyelids keeping tears behind his eyes almost crumble.
“Yeah. You’re right.”
“You came up with every reason to sympathize with Gary yourself. You may not know this buddy, but you’re a good person. Sure, we’re all angry and hateful for one reason or another, but let’s be honest, if someone wasn’t there would probably be something seriously wrong with that person. Or they’d be mind-blowingly stupid.”
The Raven Gang (Noble Animals Book 1) Page 16