To his dismay, he was shoved into the front seat of the car, with Johnny taking the role as passenger and his cousin in the back. He spared a quick glance over his right shoulder. The officers were now halfway through the bank, gaining momentum quickly in a divided form. With an anxious shift, and his crew shouting at him, Patrick revived their ride, rivaling roller coaster speed before hitting the intersection.
The adjacent street had been completely cleared by the police to prevent the gang from escaping. They did not, however, anticipate that their notorious beige Volvo would actually run the risk of taking the long way around, which Patrick did instinctively. He sped down the void of boulevard like a giant bullet, leaving behind a cocky breeze that was felt by the officers on foot. Their response was routinely swift. In less than ten seconds they matched the Volvo’s speed, racing down the deserted road.
Jane squirmed in the back seat as she watched the flashing lights of the authorities gain velocity. “They’re getting closer. Speed up!”
“I can’t! We’re approaching the crowd. I shouldn’t be driving anyway; I don’t have a license either.”
“And you freaked out about Gary having one?” Johnny exclaimed.
Patrick’s fingers jumped around the wheel like frightened spiders. “You’re the one that shoved me in! Besides in our situation, driving illegally is the least of our problems.”
Ahead of them near the town square the crowd took notice of the oncoming vehicles. They divided in a cluster and cleared from the street, dully watching the chase. Patrick lifted his foot off the gas and let the car stream independently before squashing the break, stopping them dead in the center of the action. Only two people remained standing in the street. In the back seat, Jane opened the side door for them.
In unison Gary and Slate leaped for the door, guns tucked at their sides. A third of a football field away two officers aligned themselves in a comfortable firing position and let slip three shots in rapid succession. The bullets grazed the car door as its passengers were safely concealed inside. At the sound of the last shot Slate violently swatted his hand away from the glass as if he had dipped it in fire.
“Drive, damn you! Drive!” Gary shouted above the gunfire.
Patrick reaccelerated the vehicle to a top and very illegal speed. The two new passengers greeted his cousin with surprise, but thought better than asking questions. For a shining moment of satisfaction, they thought they weren’t being tailed anymore, but the red and blue flashes from nearly an entire street back told a different story. They knew they had to lose their chasers, and quickly.
“They’re gaining on us!” Slate alerted. “We gotta go faster. Did you guys get what was in the bank?”
“Not now, Slate!” Patrick replied. “I’m kind of trying to save our asses here.”
Patrick reluctantly sped forward a few more miles per hour, seeing that he still had till the end of the avenue to slow down and inevitably reenter traffic. Up ahead, a car unlawfully stopped itself far into the next intersection with a left turn signal aimed directly at them. Johnny unbuckled himself and threw his whole weight to the wheel, spinning it tightly to the left, which Patrick was already doing, nearly causing them to flip over.
“Watch it! You’re going to get us killed!” Jane shouted over the skidding of the wheels.
“Sorry! I’m not used to these stunts, okay?”
He kept his hands to himself. The car with the turn signal ended up working out for them. It inched itself far enough into the adjacent street to force the authorities to slow down and safely veer left. Once the clueless driver was more aware at what was happening, he awkwardly scooted backwards.
Patrick took a moment to feel oddly proud of himself as he maintained vehicular stability. He even maintained every ounce of his car within one lane. There was no danger in sight. At least for just five seconds. “I may not have a license, but I’d say I’d make a good formula one racer.” he smiled to himself.
The chord of his satisfaction was pulled out when his eyes caught the surreal appearance of a semi-trailer truck halted dead in the center of the next street. Its length spanned the entire flow of the road. With the charging brigade of black and whites approaching, the last thing Patrick wanted was to stop. It would mean their capture. Inside, he was having a heavy time keeping himself together. At this rate he would have to drop from 70 mph to 0 in just seconds. He was too terrified to break, and the crew began to freak out. Johnny lunged for the wheel again.
“For hell’s sake stop the car!” he screamed.
“Turn!” Gary shouted. “Do something. Do anything!”
Patrick ignored them, but then, what they could only deduct as a product of divine intervention, the most fantastical thing of the night happened. Several hundred feet in front of them, seconds away from impact, the sixteen wheeler erupted in a wild display of flames, as if it were a radical AC/DC stunt. With the unprecedented force, the rear of the truck was flung as if the back end bounced from a trampoline. The front wheels slid comfortably yards at a time, propelled by the energy caused by the sudden imbalance.
Seeing it as the perfect opportunity, Patrick stomped the gas pedal as far as it would go. Realizing what he was doing, the passengers gripped all they could, bracing for impact. Slate, Gary, and Jane immediately huddled down in the leg space to avoid being crushed by the falling several-ton behemoth. To their left the front stopped advancing and the back half came swinging down, appearing as if intentionally trying to stop their advance. They could safely safely breathe again when they heard the heavy cluttering of the flaming compartments begin to bounce and fall on its side in a fiery glory.
The whole street was barricaded by the remnants. The cops weren’t getting by.
Everyone except Patrick, who couldn’t help keeping his eyes popped, slowed to a legal speed. The road was clear and their tail was safe. He could see several intimidating flame bursts erupt from the downed vehicle through the rearview mirror.
Recovering their abilities to form sensible sentences, Gary shouted. “Are you insane?” Either way, we’re lucky. That was the most incredible move I’ve ever seen, but from now on, let someone else drive”.
“Well,” Slate started in an inside voice. “That’s it for the big chase. But why did that truck explode? Someone obviously put it there.”
“Maybe it was the guys who got Black. It could be their latest attempt on our lives.” Patrick replied.
Jane and Johnny got settled calmly back into their seats. “Where are we going?” the former asked.
“We have a place. Don’t worry.” Patrick sighed. “This only got worse, guys. We’re going to be wanted even more, and the bank thing isn’t going to help at all.”
Without much interference besides the regular small street traffic, they were able to quietly drive back safely to their base. They thanked Patrick for his bravery. If not for his instinctive move, they would have been crushed or captured. However, once again, their mild contentedness would not last long.
They pulled up to the dirt path and shuffled their way out, their legs feeling like they just sat through a Lord of the Rings marathon. They settled themselves back at home and removed their coats and masks on the table. Patrick checked the bank treasure along with them. Everyone looked at it with unblinking interest. After glancing at the cover illustration, Gary quickly turned away, but everyone else formed a crowd around it.
“One of your father’s books?” Slate said. “This, this was it?”
Johnny grunted. “What are we supposed to do with this?”
Before they could express more disappointment, they turned to Edgar who was staring wide-eyed into the television screen with the same fear that Patrick saw from him earlier. In one fluid motion the gang edged over into a viewing area.
All their hearts sank like lead as they took in the scene shown on the screen being projected by a national news station. The c
amera showed the area right outside the police station, where they were not twenty-five minutes ago. Ambulances and firemen were rushing across the screen and a hurried chaos. Among the obvious frenzies shown, the large caption above the scene read in chilling simplicity ‘15 Confirmed Dead in Raven Gang Massacre’.
Out of Time
The only sound in the cabin was from the grim report. The gang was silent, unable to express their shock. Without a blink their attention was locked on the reporter who was delivering the full story. After the gang succeeded in their incredible escape a small series of explosives went off near the edge of the crowd, exactly where their car had anxiously paused to let Gary and Slate inside. Authorities believed the gang must have swiftly settled them near the edge of the curb shielding them from plain view, either during the periods when Gary and Slate used the crowd for cover or just before they bolted away. Moments after the officers kicked themselves for letting the raven gang get away, the parade of TNT-like explosives erupted.
Only two civilians were killed immediately. The other thirteen deaths happened latter on the scene from severe injuries. There were still many in need of emergency care, and some were shown receiving emergency treatment from paramedics in real time. As it was with many other cases, more fatalities were anticipated in the coming hours. The reporter concluded by saying that forensics were currently being done on the still steaming devices, to get clues as to where the strange explosives were made.
Slate muted the TV. They had seen enough.
“We...we had absolutely nothing to do with this.”
“Of course we didn’t!” Patrick shouted. “But I think I know who’s behind it. When Johnny and I were leaving the bank a hooded guy shot this blue beam at us. It was like a laser! And it actually wrote all by itself on the wall ‘Nevermore’, just like it was at the doctor’s house. Surely that guy is working for whoever started this all.”
Gary rose from the bean bag chair and joined the rest of the standing crew. “Who do you think you’re talking to, trying to sell a story like that? You’re doing no one any favors.”
“It’s the truth!” Jane joined in. “That thing was like pure energy. It almost hit him!”
Johnny awkwardly took a seat. “And it’s not like we should really be surprised. I mean, I think we’re used to wonderland by now.”
In front of them Gary irritably paced around the room. Watching him, Patrick felt that his uneasiness was more from fear than anything else. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was still terrified of what they had seen. Between the laser almost pummeling him like a steel dodgeball and the exploding truck nearly crushing them, he wasn’t exactly jolly. To satisfy his wish to seem more stable, he responded to Gary.
“What’s your problem anyway? We were all almost killed just as much as you. What is it that’s bothering you more than anyone else? What do you know that we don’t?”
Gary stopped to face him, gritting his teeth in growing anger. “My problem? Is this thing!” he aggressively pointed his finger at Edgar, who simply stared back in return. “It’s because of this thing we’re in so much more trouble than we were. Before we met it we still could have gotten away, no harm done. Now since it seems you all feel you’re in debt to it for saving us, there is no way we can escape now. This thing has done us no favors!”
Slate rose up, joining Patrick at his side. “If I remember correctly, it was you who suggested that we see it through, and get our weapons.”
“Well I guess I was wrong!” his voice rose to a shout. “And since we’re going back that far, if you assholes never showed up to the goddam party, we’d be studying for finals right about now!”
“And If my watch was never stolen from me, we never would have gone to confront you in the first place!” Patrick’s volume began to match Gary’s. His arms rested unsteadily at his sides.
“Seriously? You know I didn’t take it.”
“But you can see why I would think so? You were there at the commons when I was explaining why I carry it around with me and you could easily have picked it up when you knocked me over in the dining hall.” Patrick noticed everyone was staring at him and silently urging him to calm down. He didn’t care. “But let’s get to what really matters, what the hell is your problem with me? I’ve noticed that you don’t really have great relationships with anyone on campus, but for some reason you single me out over everyone else. So why, Gary? Why are you so open about your dislike of me? Why do you try to overshadow me in every class we have had together? Why?”
He had hoped his sudden outburst would have caught Gary off guard. But he responded without much hesitation, his face turning as red as a raw steak. “You want to know? I’ll tell you.” He reached over to the table where the large book was resting and picked it up with a single hand. He waved Gordon Buchanan’s volume aggressively in front of Patrick. “It’s because of this man! Your father!”
Whatever surprise Patrick had been expecting to drop on Gary was countered to him. For a couple seconds he stood still, dumbly. “What do you have against my father?”
“You don’t know? Well I’m not too surprised.” he continued pacing the room. The gang gathered around like children at story-time. “My father, Jim Frost, and your dad were pretty tight a long time ago. He was a journalist, though he did have many literary interests. He even helped your dad with a couple of his books. His name was mentioned in both of them, have you not read any of your father’s work?”.
“No.” Patrick replied, shame hanging high in his word.
“Very well.” he snickered. “Anyway, one day just out of the blue, the local police gave Jim a visit. Next thing he knew he was under arrest for grand theft and the murder of an intern in some government lab. Gordon is the one who led the police to him. He was sentenced to life in prison. He died trying to escape it in a car crash with my mother. The records were kept so tight that very few people even know about this.” He was choosing his words carefully, trying not to seem emotional. “I have gone over the situation over and over again, there is no way he could have committed those crimes. Someone framed him, your father surely. Must be why you never knew the story. I’m sure he wanted everything buried.”
“No, none of that’s true!” Patrick said. “My father was a good man. He never would have done anything like that, especially to a friend.”
“And how would you know that?” as Gary continued to speak Patrick felt the fury build up in him. His muscles tightened through his arms as he struggled to keep them to himself. “It seems like you have done everything to try and forget he ever existed, much like he did to my father. That’s the difference between us. I like what I am.”
Patrick’s response was rocketing clean from his seat with his fist held high. Before Gary could even process the arm about to pound him, Edgar leaped between them and knocked Patrick’s arm right out of the air. The sudden slap from his wing sent Patrick spiraling towards the ground. He knocked himself against the lamp stand, nearly taking the whole structure down with him. When he raised his head again he immediately saw Gary and Edgar looking down at him, the former with loosening anger, and the latter with apology. He could feel his eyes begin to tear up, so he held them back with every joule of energy in his body.
Having nothing more to say, Patrick stormed out of the cabin, briefly leaning on Slate’s shoulder for additional support on his way out. When the door slammed, everyone suddenly felt alone.
“Gary, what you just said, do you really think all that is true?” Johnny added, asking what was on everyone’s mind.
Gary bent his head down, staring intensely at the ground, unwilling to make any eye contact. “Yeah, I think that’s how it went. Believe me, I wouldn’t lie about this.”
He also wanted to be alone. After his dramatic display he didn’t want to answer any more uncomfortable questions. Gary stood on the couch and slid the window open. The window would be a better way out
since he was unlikely to see Patrick though the opposite direction. After he eased himself out, the rest of the gang sat in silence. They knew what they just saw would be weighing on their minds for the rest of the night. Amidst the quietness, Edgar slid over to the table where the fairy tale book innocently rested. He flipped through the pages, taking interest in the lively illustrations.
Hours later Gary was still alone outside. Many yards in front of him the cabin rested lifelessly, void of conversation. He figured everyone was likely asleep, since it was approaching 1 a.m., which he didn’t mind. He hardly ever slept before 2 am.
He didn’t want to admit it, but he regretted everything he told to the gang. Before the unfortunate incident in the city, they were all becoming well-adjusted to their new positions as vigilantes. Now all that seemed to have been in vain, and his outburst surely caused personal setbacks.
Gary raised his fourth cigarette of the night to his mouth. The rush of warm smoke into his lungs felt especially soothing in the north California winter. The joint of tobacco sobered him and gave him better thoughts. He wanted things to improve. He knew the raven gang would have to be united to get out okay. They wouldn’t win with someone who had acted childish since their escape from the party.
While in mid breath he heard the wooden creaking of a door open followed by the flapping of wings sounding from beyond view. A dark figure eased its way back to ground a few feet away from him, which he mindlessly identified as his bat companion. He neatly held a wing to his chest, carrying something. Without raising his eyes he knew Edgar was staring at him, probably waiting for him to say something. He didn’t want to look up. Instead he unsheathed another cigarette from the carton and slipped it between his lips. He kindled the end and exhaled. After a few more quiet moments Edgar began to turn away. Gary knew he couldn’t continue playing the lone wolf role.
The Raven Gang (Noble Animals Book 1) Page 15
