The Raven Gang (Noble Animals Book 1)

by Brendan Walsh

  “It’s probably your fault, Johnny. You tried to take his blood away.” Gary added with his mouth full.

  He scoffed. “What was I supposed to do? He was just sitting there drinking it in front of me. It was like I could feel my own blood being drained. It doesn’t matter anyway; he probably just went somewhere to be alone.”

  “You guys know that vampire bats are pretty compassionate animals?” Slate started. “Sometimes when one doesn’t get enough blood to last it for the night another may regurgitate some it drank and give it to the other.”

  “We’re trying to eat here, pal.” Patrick put his sandwich down. “You can keep some of those things to yourself.”

  “And there’s a protein in their saliva that works as an anticoagulant that helps fight against strokes.” The gang didn’t seem as interested as he was on the subject. “I felt we should know a little more about our flying friend.”

  Gary stuffed the last of his veggie burger in his mouth like he was trying to hide the whole thing. “We’ll know everything we need soon. Right when he gets back, we’re having a little conversation.”

  They turned to the TV as they finished eating to see if there was any more news from the city. On one local news station it was announced there would shortly be another televised press conference from the lead detectives regarding the fugitive front. They took it as good news. Since they hadn’t gotten into any more trouble in days, it surely couldn’t be horrible news.

  Above them a loud thud forced them to their feet. A softer blow followed on ground level, as if a giant pinecone had tumbled from the tallest tree around. Seconds later the door burst open and Edgar stumbled inside with his wings folded awkwardly. He no longer wore the bandage against his chest. His bullet wound was nearly nonexistent. The winged mammal undoubtedly had great regenerating abilities. Everyone in the room ambushed him, forming a semi-circle blockade.

  “There you are!” Patrick said. “Don’t go anywhere, we have some things to ask you.”

  Edgar remained silent, seeming to accept their request. They ushered him over to the center table. In preparation for the interrogation Gary had written on three sheets of paper bearing the phrases ‘yes’, ‘no’, and ‘I don’t know’, which Edgar would show to them in response to their questions. He spread them evenly on the table, and the bat understood what he was supposed to do. It wasn’t a perfect mode of dialogue, but it was all they had.

  “Okay.” Gary started, crouching on the edge of his seat. “So I feel that we should start with something simple. Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

  The flying mammal lifted a wing and lightly tapped it over the sheet that read ‘I don’t know’. The revelation disappointed the gang, but they were not giving up yet.

  “Why were you at Black’s party last week?” Patrick added. “Were you the one who killed him?”

  ‘No’. They all eased themselves at the answer.

  “Do you have an idea who did?”

  Instead of pointing to something Edgar grabbed the pen between his teeth and began to shake his neck in front of the paper as enthusiastically as a sugar deprived child would lick a lollipop. His audience leaned forward, curious at what was being illustrated, but his head was in the way. When he was done he shoved the poorly written note away so they all could see. Slate reached for it, holding it closer to his eyes. He read it aloud. ‘I knew who the doctor was. He was the first thing I saw when I became what you see’. Slate paused, squinting at the creases to make out the illegible words. ‘For too long he kept me in a steel pod, and a few times a day he would turn on some machine and my head suddenly felt like it was going to explode’.

  He finished reading, but Edgar had just prepared sequel, which he promptly shoved to Slate for him to continue narrating. ‘I always blacked out from the pain, but it would be gone by the time I would wake up. I know now that he was my creator. Despite the fact that he caused me much pain I didn’t want to kill him. I wanted freedom. I wasn’t sticking around his home for revenge’.

  “Then why were you there?” asked Johnny.

  Instead of writing a response the bat simply tilted his head towards Gary.

  Their eyes locked. “Me? Why?”

  Edgar continued the same ritual. ‘When I escaped from Black, I knew that he was surely not working alone and that I must have been created for a reason, so I spied on him. The night before the party I overheard him say Gary had something that he wanted. It’s why he was the only one actually invited to the party. Whatever it was, I was going to take it first’.

  Everyone turned their attention to Gary, who was no less surprised as they were. “I don’t have anything! The two of us never even had any contact before. How would he know if I have something he wants?”

  “If I can interject,” Patrick said. “Based on what we know, maybe he didn’t want anything to do with you. His boss is probably the real guy who knows things. It’s probably what got him killed. Maybe he knew too much.”

  The room became quiet. Gary stared hard at the floor, as if something was about to pop out. “Patrick, follow me.”

  He obediently followed Gary to the far corner of the room, exchanging some quizzing looks with Johnny and Slate, who now were already scooting noticeably closer to them, hoping to eavesdrop.

  “I don’t think this is a very good idea.” Gary started.

  Patrick exhaled. “What isn’t?”

  “Think about it. He ‘claims’ he escaped. If there’s something we’ve learned about the guys chasing us, it is that they are resourceful. They wouldn’t let something like that escape. And you saw how Dr. Black had been mauled. If you ask me, his death looked like it was caused by something ‘unnatural’.”

  “You don’t think we should trust Edgar? I mean, after what he did for us I think it’s pretty clear whose side he’s on.”

  His voice was almost too soft for a whisper. “It just all seems a little too convenient to me. And you know how he’s hardly been with us these last couple days. Where does he go? Not to mention that he even has a motive to kill him.”

  Patrick knew Gary did have a good point. But it logically didn’t seem like something to dwell on. He felt Gary was just spooked that the spotlight was suddenly on him, and that he may carry a bigger role than he wanted to admit. Patrick concluded the conversation by saying that until their friend was guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, Edgar was trustworthy.

  When they returned to their interviewing circle Slate was silently reading another note from the bat. As Patrick and Gary rejoined, he read aloud. ‘I could hear you; I am a bat after all. You should know that I didn’t need to save you, but I did. Your brains could never comprehend what I’ve been through. You should show me some respect.’

  They sat back down. Edgar’s unexpected aggression occupied their thoughts. They didn’t want their friend to be unhappy.

  Gary awkwardly sighed. “Yes. Alright. Thank you, for saving us and all.”

  “Of course, Edgar.” Patrick tried a smile. “We only intend the best for you.”

  The note continued. ‘I’ve been gone too often. We all want the same thing, so I won’t leave you anymore. We’re in this together.’

  As much as she tried Lindsey couldn’t stay focused, and not just because final exams were next week. She had no idea what to do: Slate, Johnny, Patrick and Gary were fugitives in a murder case and her father was the man tasked with their apprehension. A couple days had passed since she last made any futile attempt to reach any of their phones. All she got was voicemail. The suspense created by the unknown whereabouts of her friends gave her goose feelings.

  Amidst her tense inner struggle, her father stepped in through the front door, hung his SFPD jacket on the coat rack and removed his sunglasses.

  “Good evening, Lindsey.” her father seemed out of breath. “How was your day.”

  “Good.” she replied robotica
lly. “You?”

  “Great.” he heaved a sigh of relief and took a few deep breaths. “Well we got the raven gang case pretty much closed. Today we think we figured out who they are. You won’t believe this; they’re all kids who go to Weller with you. Patrick Buchanan, Slate Kilroy, Johnny Mars, and Gary Frost are their names. You ever heard of them?”

  “I, uh, may have seen them around.” she ran a shaking a hand through her hair.

  His fast breaths were calmed. “In a bit of a rush back to the station. Good thing you never involved yourself in that kind of crowd. Anyway, we also discovered that Doctor Black had been spending an awful lot of time visiting some safe deposit box at the Olson National Bank on Blakewood. His wife didn’t even know he went there. We figure whatever is inside it must have something to do with the case. I’ll get that warrant first thing tomorrow morning. Maybe we can get breakfast afterwards.”

  The detective entered the bedroom, out of Lindsey’s sight. “I just need to change my coat before the conference tonight. I was wearing this one last time I was on TV. Tonight we let the world know who the raven gang is.” he proudly beamed, feeling like he did all the work himself.

  Lindsey made sure that her father was still out of range as she picked up the home phone. She hoped that with a different number calling Slate would answer the phone. Things had just taken a turn for the worse, and she needed to let them know about it.

  As the chime of the ring sounded in her ear, she shut her eyes tightly and muttered into the speaker. “Please pickup. Please pickup.”

  Slate’s phone buzzed to life on the counter, putting an end to interviewing Edgar. “I got it!” he said, springing across the room. The number had a San Francisco area code. He figured it was just a wrong number. He wanted to be polite, so he accepted the call.

  “Hello? Who is this?”

  “Slate, it’s Lindsey.”

  He frantically twirled around to the gang, but they were too busy in another conversation to watch him. “Lindsey, uh, oh God, it’s a long story but-”

  “It’s okay. I know you guys are the raven gang.” she spoke rapidly in a hushed voice. “And I know that whatever is going on can’t be your fault. Something else must have happened. I hope all you guys are alright.”

  He safely breathed out. “Thanks Lindsey. It’s really good to hear from you. You wouldn’t believe some of the-”

  “I’m sorry, I need to cut you off. There’s something you need to know: My father just got home from work and he knows who you guys are. Tonight at the press conference he’s going to reveal your identities.”

  Slate sunk to his seat, letting the possible implications of the action spin through his head. It was something that couldn’t be ignored. He rejoined the gang by the television where Johnny was just finishing a story.

  Johnny wasn’t speaking with a straight face. “So that’s when I said, ‘Hey dude, you want some mustard on that?’” Patrick and Gary burst into laughter and slammed their fists against the wall like angry gorillas. Edgar stared blankly at them, clearly without any clue what they were talking about.

  “Hey, gang.” through their banter they sensed his anxiety. They gave him their full attention. “Lindsey just called. Her father knows who we are. They’re going to tell everyone at the conference tonight.”

  Everyone at once stood up in alarm.

  “This isn’t good.” said Gary.

  Patrick nodded in agreement. “Not at all. This can really only work against us. But is this something to freak out about?”

  “Yes.” Slate confirmed. “Just think about it.”

  The gang talked about the real implications of their dilemma. Considering it wasn’t just the police looking for them, but also some freaky sci/fi cult looking for them, their problems were more than just doubled. If the enemy found out who they were then they would use their families to get them out into the open and to easily persuade them to leave their hiding. The fact that their relatives would surely be put in danger by the revelation meant they had to act, and fast.

  “I think we all now have every superhero cliché that’s ever been used.” Patrick commented. “So it’s settled. We need to do something. But what?”

  Subtle buzzing coming from Slate’s hand reminded them Lindsey was still on the other line. He raised the phone back to his ear. He didn’t know how much more talking she had done, so he continued from where he left off.

  “Thanks Lindsey, we’ll figure something out. Is there anything else that your father mentioned that could maybe help us?”

  There was silence on the other end. Lindsey tried to remember what her father said right when she saw him. Her fright and panic made it easier, so she resumed her suppressed speech.

  “My father did say that he discovered that Doctor Black had paid several visits to a safe deposit box in Olson National Bank. The one on Blakewood. He thinks that there may be something important there.”

  Slate reiterated what his girlfriend had just told him to the rest of the gang. “Find out which one it was.” Johnny demanded.

  The former returned to his call and asked. On the other side of the line he heard Lindsey ask her father the same question, to which he replied ‘14c’, not thinking anything suspicious of his daughter taking interest in his work.

  “Your father is really an awful cop, isn’t he?” Slate smiled.

  “He doesn’t really care. He’s got tenure and he likes when I take interest in his job. Anyway he’s just on his way out. If you’re going to do anything, just don’t be too stupid.”

  “Wait wait wait! Hold on, if your father knows who we are why doesn’t he suspect you’re involved in this as well?”

  There was only static on the other side.

  “Have you not told him we’re dating?”

  “Time and place, Slate!”

  He grunted as the line disconnected. As troubling as the news was it was better than remaining in the dark. Now at least some kind of progress could be made. Everyone gathered in the center of the room. They knew they were in for another restless night. As if the walls around them were compressing, they were being forced out.

  “We need to get what’s inside that bank.” Johnny declared.

  “Why?” Slate asked.

  Patrick cleared his throat. “I know. It’s like Gary said earlier, these people we’re up against are resourceful. They could masquerade as officers again and take what’s inside any time. Whatever it is could be the key to getting us out of this mess. If we don’t get it, there goes our chances. We could be here for another week or worse!”

  “Okay, that makes sense.” Slate paced around the room. Everyone was uneasy. “Back to the other thing, maybe somehow we could get the conference cancelled.”

  “Maybe we could crash it.” Gary countered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, we crash it.” he raised his eyebrows.

  No one liked the sound of it, so Gary explained. He suggested they take some of their weapons, go to the conference site, and forcefully declare the event closed. If they could get there on time then the detective would not have time to say what he wanted, and thus they were safe for the night. The idea was poorly received.

  “Threatening innocent people at gunpoint? Are you insane? Are you-” Patrick paused and nodded his head towards Edgar on his left. “… That crazy?”

  “Hey guys,” Johnny interjected, waving his phone to direct everyone’s attention to himself. “Look here, the police station is right here, as indicated by the red dot. Over here-” he slid a crafty finger across the screen. “Here is the bank, just a couple blocks away. If we go along with this plan, we could kill two birds with one stone. We stop the conference, and get to the deposit box before the cops do.”

  Slate’s jaw was too heavy to close. “We’d be way more wanted than we already are! Not a good plan! We could get shot
!”

  Everyone paused as their flying pal slipped Patrick another note. It said that he thought the plan would probably go wrong, but with his help and skills with technology he’d make it a whole lot easier. They were eased. It was better than nothing.

  If everything went according to plan, no one would need to get hurt. They would have what was in the box, and their identities would be safe for at least another day, until they had a permanent solution. Together they laid out a plan. It was something of a long shot, and they’d need to bring a whole pot of luck.

  “Edgar, are you sure you’re okay with this?” Patrick asked.

  The bat smiled and released a low-pitched squeak. He tapped Patrick assuredly on the shoulder with a wing. Patrick relayed the smile and tapped his leathery wing back. For the first time they fel like a team.

  “Time to spread the fear and chaos.” Gary cheered.

  A few thousand miles away a cargo ship wasn’t going to make its deadline. A storm wasbrewing overhead, and from the sailor’s eyes it appeared God was personally mixing the cocktail of ionic energy and low frequency waves. The fierce storm battered bitterly against the struggling vessel, but its captain was not giving up.

  Captain Beckman and his crew had seen their fair share of rugged currents in their times, but none was anything like this.

  Their estimated time of arrival in New York City should have been in just two more hours. The uneasy ocean pulled them far off course, and it looked like it would be many more hours before they spot any kind of land. It was approaching midnight in their time zone, and the captain confessed that setting sail had been an awful error in judgement.

  Earlier in the month, which felt like a year to the disgruntled crew, they were supposed to have completed their last delivery for the year. That was until a peculiar young man came by one night while they were docking. The man spoke with an American accent and told them he would pay each crewman lavishly if they could deliver another package to the states before the end of the current month. They all graciously accepted and helped him unload the heavily packaged items onto the ship. They didn’t ask what was inside. The seamen were just happy to be earning themselves the extra cash.