The Serpent League

by Brendan Walsh

  “Why would you assume that?” Jane asked, turning to her other friends for answers. But they all had the same gaps in their knowledge.

  BJ’s arms rose to her sides, and she looked away from them. “He isn’t at the cabin, when I checked.”

  “Are you sure?” Jane asked.

  “Yes. I can’t go in there, not with my father in there, but my more keen senses told me he wasn’t there.” Her nostrils moved up and down with each breath. “I told him not to go see the Serpent League. Members gave the two of us an address on where to find them, so they could tell us of our supposed important part in their plan. He hasn’t been back since.”

  Her three friends didn’t know what to say. Anything they could suggest would surely had already been thought of by BJ. They all felt powerless, just simple humans in a world of experimental animals and shapeshifters, condemned to know what’s happening but having no power to stop it.

  “So what do you suggest we do?” Lindsey asked. “I think we should all regroup. If we’re all together, we’ll come up with more options.”

  “Agreed.” BJ nodded. “We need to get away from this hospital. If we want to have any shot at saving the people in the comas like your father, we need to be sure we’re safe from what they’re going to be used for.”

  Edgar couldn’t remember a time his head hurt so much.

  At least it’s not from one of Elder’s awful machines in my head, he thought. Unsurprisingly, that thought consoled him well.

  Between trying to balance all the new information the League had thrown at him, to worrying about what was going on with the humans now, his brain felt like it had collided with an iceberg. And the thing that kept replaying itself over and over again in his mind was the final conversation he had had with the Master before it let him have time to mull over everything he had learned.

  He then heard the heavy footsteps of the enigmatic beast behind him once more. That didn’t help his head at all.

  “I don’t know about you,” he said to it. “but I have no concern about the ‘what’s in it for me’ part of my role. I think I’ve put that idea to bed since talking to you about all this. I’m done thinking now. I want action. What do you wish me to do next?”

  The Master sighed. Its massive crocodilian chest lowered as it thought. “It depended on what BJ would do, but since she isn’t here with us, I can only assume that she isn’t with us. That’s fine. Her fate is sealed.”

  The bat didn’t like the sound of its last words. He lowered his eyes at the Master, but its face surrendered nothing.

  “You will be the leader of all these creations.” It said, showing some teeth. “There has been a tradition in our group for as long as we’ve been around, which is longer than anyone can remember, that once the time is right, we will let someone who has truly lived to become our ruler.” It smiled, putting a humanoid, clawed hand on Edgar’s shoulder. He tried not to shiver. “There’s no doubt that that someone is you. You were an ordinary animal turned extraordinary, noble, from intentions beyond your control, and now that Elder is out of your head, you have the ability to make your own essence. And not only that, you’ve had unique experiences that give you the kind of knowledge a leader needs.”

  Edgar looked away. As much as he was tempted, he could not find anything in the Master’s words that he disagreed with. It was like his mind was looking into a mirror, and his subconscious was recognizing itself.

  “There is hesitation in you.” Master said, as a statement.

  “There are parts of your plan I’m not sure about. And if I don’t know them, how could I know if I agree with them?”

  The bipedal reptile crossed his arms, watching the mass of woods in front of them. “Fair. Fair. I sense this is also about your friends, so I will be honest with you. There are no guarantees with humans. There aren’t even guarantees about the ‘worthy’ ones we exposed our blood to. Sometimes their bodies can handle the transformation. Sometimes they don’t. It might seem like chance, but we view as a natural affirmation of our philosophy. We see the ones fit for our ideology, we allow them to become like us, and if they die, it wasn’t meant to be. But if they live, then we were right. You see?”

  He did. But that didn’t give an answer to his worst fear. “And if they’re not ‘worthy’?”

  “Some will die off right away.” Master’s tongue brushed his scaly lips. “Some will fade away over time. But the humans that are still alive will be improved. They will be closer to the role nature truly intends for them, and some will be like us, and some animals will be like them.”

  Animals will be like them? the bat thought.

  “But none of that harmony will ever come if they don’t have someone like you to guide them, someone with your experience and wisdom. Beings like me, we’ve only had one consistent existence with a consistent essence. That makes something, someone like you so much more able. You will be king, provisionally, of course. Once all the work is done, you will dissolve, as we all will, from our ranks and live nobly among all the other creatures. You, Edgar, if you still wish to have that name, will be the king of change. King Delta, I will call you. I can see in your deep, beautiful yellow eyes that you understand what I’m saying, and you do not want to hurt me. You agree with me, don’t you?”

  Edgar didn’t blink at him, keeping his soulful eyes on the crocodile.

  “It’s so alien,” the bat said. “even to someone like me, that what you’re saying could actually happen. What do you plan? You, me, and this merry band of misfit creatures, and all your Leaguers can erase human dominance like that?”

  The reptile let out a chuckle. “Blood, Delta. It is all in the blood. Our very life force proves we are meant for this. Oh, it’s already happening. The blood is already spreading through the moss, the grass, the birds and bats in the air. It will connect us with everything that breathes and moves.” He lowered a clawed-finger between Edgar’s ears. “In there, you will communicate with all of them. They all have their role in this fight.”

  That sounded good to him. The idea of humbling himself before all the creatures of the earth was something Edgar wanted to do. Something that he could never do in earnest the way humans were currently talking about him in the news. He would only be angry, and would likely one day violently show his dominance over mankind.

  No. This was better for everyone.

  “One more thing you need to do.” said the Master.

  “Does it involve my friends?” he asked.

  “No. You’ll take care of them later. What you now have to do, Delta, is the biggest step.” Master stepped closer to the bat. Their toes made contact and Edgar’s fur was brushing against the reptile’s rough skin. “You might mentally be on our side, but physically you’re not there yet. You’re strong, as I saw when I broke you in.” The bat shivered, both from the memory of the beating and with how close Master was standing to him. “But you’re still too vulnerable. The humans will fight back, and once it’s clear how close they are to losing their dominion on earth, they will give the fight everything they’ve got. You need to be unbreakable. Invincible, so much so that the only person who can kill you will be yourself. Do you understand what I mean, Delta?”

  Master curled its whole scaly palm around the back of Edgar’s head and shoved it against its chest. The bat’s eyes went wide. But he didn’t struggle. He knew what he was meant to do, smothered against the rough chest.

  “Drink.” Master sighed, as if in song. “Bite as you always did in the wild. My blood with end all your cravings for the rest of your life. My blood will make you stronger. My blood will make you have no fear. My blood will grant you eternal life.”

  The Master continued to speak, melodically, as Edgar sunk his smaller front fangs into the creature’s chest. If it had felt pain from the puncture, it didn’t affect Master’s speaking, or his movements.

  A thick, omnicolored beam-like liquid poured from the wound and in between Edgar’s teeth. Edgar felt his breathing increase, his he
art pound and pound like a galloping horse. He heard himself moan as the liquid went down his throat and down to his belly, as a slimy tongue lathered the top of his head.

  “Keep going. Keep going.” Master cooed to its king. “You’ll know when to stop.”

  This time he felt no urge to shiver. The bipedal reptile’s tongue on him only increased his breathing, increasing his intake of blood. The massive tongue washed all around his ears and his forehead, and its snout moved lower, inhaling deeply as it pressed against the bat’s chest.

  Standing there drinking the crocodile’s blood as it took in his scent and savored his taste as he savored its blood gave him something he’d never known before. It was nothing he could ever put into words with Gary or Patrick or any of his other human friends. No sharing of emotion or body expression could put into their minds the way he felt about the Master now. The two of them understood each other in a special way. Something that would never be replicated, and that made him feel euphoric and horribly alone at the same time.

  The wound healed, and the bat lapped up the last of the thick fluid. He could feel it spreading from his stomach to the thumbs of his wings and the tips of his toes.

  First he was a vampire bat, then he was Edgar, and now, now, he was this.

  Delta was full.

  Delta was satisfied.

  15

  The Willing

  They still didn’t have any updates from their other friends.

  As far as they knew, Slate, Lindsey, and Jane were still in the hospital. For hours there had been no signs from Edgar or BJ. The latter was no surprise. After everything they knew about her past, BJ did not want to face her father again. After what she did, and after what he had to do with her, she figured that nothing good could come from them seeing each other again.

  And to Patrick, it wasn’t going to make a difference.

  “Think about it,” he said to Gary and Johnny. “Elder has already done so much to seal his own fate in his role with the League. Now the League is fighting back, and he wants to help us fight them. BJ can help us too, but beyond that, they don’t need to meet.”

  Johnny sighed, crossing his legs together as they sat on the floor. “I guess, Patrick. But part of this doesn’t sit well with me.” He turned to Gary. “Dude, you hardly have any family at all, except that uncle of yours we robbed. If somehow your parents were still alive, or if you had a brother or sister you never knew about, you’d want to know they were alive, wouldn’t you?”

  “Regardless of the answer to that,” Gary frowned. “remember, this is no ordinary situation of a long-lost relative. So much, if not all, of the origin of Elder’s plan was because of the League tricking Elder into mutating his own daughter. And, at some point, Elder was on board with the League’s plan. What if he no longer wants to stop them once he finds out he didn’t kill his daughter after all?”

  “That’s a big if.” Patrick replied. He looked over his shoulder once, making sure the doctor and his mother hadn’t yet returned. “That wouldn’t negate all the years he spent apart from her, and all the years of being a father that were lost.”

  “Right.” Gary nodded. “Besides, I’ll bet Elder’s made up his mind. He understands the League’s goal clearer than all of us.”

  “But he still doesn’t know enough to stop them.” Johnny said sourly. “There’s still so much we need to know.”

  They sat for several more minutes, talking about some more trivial things to pass the time, and to at least get their minds off their bigger worries for just a little bit.

  An hour after that was when Elder and his mother finally returned. Patrick had no idea where they went, and he didn’t want to know. He thought he knew his mother, and thought he knew what his father’s legacy was. But he was wrong about everything.

  “Where did you two go?” he found himself asking, hating himself for it.

  The doctor looked at him straight with his deep blue eyes. His mother couldn’t, or wouldn’t, meet his eyes.

  “Well, I figured we had a lot of time before some action from the League gave us something to do.” Elder replied. “I didn’t want to spend that time doing nothing.”

  “Where did you go?” Patrick asked.

  “We took a stroll through the woods. We thought the clear moon and breeze would stimulate our thinking caps.”

  Laura turned to her son, playing with her fingers on her lap. “Patrick, Samuel and I have a better potential than anyone else around to get to the bottom of what Gordon could have wanted with you in that room the day he died…”

  He expected his mother to go on, but after seconds of silence Elder continued for her: “We’ve entertained dozens of possibilities. But of all the ones we’ve come up with, there’s only one that seems way more likely than all the others.”

  Patrick blinked. “And what would that be?”

  “We think that we must have something wrong.”

  “What kind of thing wrong?” Patrick asked.

  “The idea of Gordon giving the League’s blood to his only son doesn’t make any sense.” Elder looked around at the other two. Laura sheepishly joined him at his side. “Think about it. Why would Gordon, one of the smartest storytellers alive, give the blood to his nine-year-old son if he wanted to beat the league? Why didn’t he just take it himself?”

  Patrick scowled. “True, but that wouldn’t explain the psychic episodes I’ve been having. Why would that be happening if he didn’t inject me with the blood?”

  “And you realize,” Gary laughed with a bite. “that what you’re saying undermines literally all the information you’ve told us here? If that’s the case, how did you not kill Patrick with the blade? How did he not bleed to death?”

  “Oh please,” the doctor spat. “I’m an expert swordsman. If I wanted to stab someone in the right place to make it non-lethal, I think I can manage, especially for someone just as inexperienced as Patrick.”

  “I think you’re full of shit.” Patrick rose from his seat. Gary and Johnny followed suit. “First you find us here and tell us you want to help us, then you tell us everything you know, and now you instantly take everything back like that, without a shred of evidence. All you’re doing is theorizing nonsense, and we don’t have time for this.”

  A laugh came from the doctor. His friends could see Patrick start to fume. “This is just like when you were trying to convince me to stop my plan, back when we were in the Bronstrom Building. You know what, I thought you had matured since then, Patrick. But clearly, I’m wrong. Suddenly you can’t handle the fact that it isn’t all about you anymore. Just maybe, you’re not special in all this.”

  Patrick motioned forward, but Johnny and Gary grabbed his arms.

  “He’s not worth it.” Gary told him.

  “He’s just trying to get us worked up over nothing.” Johnny threw Elder a look. “Maybe this whole thing was an effort to sabotage us.”

  Patrick turned to his mother, whose eyes betrayed nothing as she looked at him. “Do you agree with him, mom? With what this asshole is saying?”

  “I think we need to consider other options, Patrick.” She said softly. “These episodes you’ve been having might just all be in your head. You’re just nervous. And you’ve had a lot of weight on your shoulders.”

  “Are you kidding me!” Patrick shouted. “Guys, this is absolute crap. We all know that there’s something going on here, and I don’t care if it’s about me or it isn’t, hell, everything involving me so far has been unpleasant!”

  As he turned back to his friends, where he expected most to find support, there was only uncertainty, and concern. Johnny held his hand out to him, urging him to calm down, which only made him feel more alone. Like he was the one not making any sense.

  It only enraged him.

  And then it happened again.

  He had a vague sense of his body, and his mouth was stuck open in a scream. But he wasn’t sure, since his mind had gone somewhere else. The last time it had happened his watch w
as going nuts, and he dreamed of Edgar, and the bat had become a formless shadow washing over his friends as well as the city of San Francisco.

  He didn’t want to tell his friends, because it was too outlandish. To him, what were the odds that his dream was meant to be taken literally? What were the odds he, Patrick Theodore Buchanan, was actually gifted with this foresight? Then again, it had worked before.

  In his new vision there was no body of his. No independent body. A slow flushing of liquid swam down his throat and rose around all corners of his new body. All the way to the top of his ears and the thumbs of his wings.

  Edgar…

  A rough embrace followed. He was momentarily weak, but just for a second. He felt everywhere, and soon there would be no corner of the earth that his wings didn’t cast a shadow over. Within the creature, Patrick’s urge to fight was being overthrown by his adversary’s will to fly, will to grow, and will to make itself ruler. His adversary’s mind was connected with his. Both Patrick and the other knew that they had touched each other, and upon instinct, both fled away to the corners of the molded minds, afraid of what the other would make of the other.

  The next thing he felt was the back of his head against a pillow, and his mother’s fingers clutching the collar of his shirt. She and Elder and his friends were circled around him on the couch, their mouths open.

  “You asswipe!” Johnny shoved Elder out of the way. “You knew this was going to happen!”

  The doctor let out a chuckle and threw his hands up. “I had my suspicions. But I think we played our parts well.”

  “Watch your head.” His mother warned as Patrick started to rise.

  “I’m good, mom.” He whispered, looking like he just missed getting rammed by a bus.

  “Your whole gang, you guys are like my little puppets.” Elder laughed, making juvenile hand motions with his fingers. “Seriously, how did you guys ever get the best of me?”

  “What’s going on?” Patrick asked.