Temple of the Serpent

Chapter 23

Captain Allen Edgars leaned into the wan light in the corner booth of the tavern. The open window on either side did little to stir the dank air. This jungle was a bitch—hot as a hell combined with torrential downpours on any given day—but at least the beer was cold.

Across the dim room, a patron snored, head on the bar while the bartender wiped a rag around him. There had only been one other person to enter over the last two hours, and he had bought the ten-year-old little girl's entire supply of handmade bracelets. To him, the intricately woven trinkets were fine pieces of art and far more valuable than the giant ruby sitting atop the table in front of him. But dueling the Devil and seeing your friends perish agonizing deaths has a tendency to change one's world view. Edgars checked his watch.

The bartender brought a citronella candle over and set it on the table. "Are you sure it's wise to venture near Devil's Lake? The spot has been a death magnet for generations. Whatever wanders near the lake, man or beast, never comes back. Just because the water level has receded due to the ravaging worldwide drought, doesn't make it any safer."

Edgars frowned.

"I'm sorry. It's just that I have very few friends left and that I don't want to see you die."

"We're all going to die, Vinke." He drew in a deep breath, gazing at the candle. "... All ... dead."

Edgars brightened when the five hardened faces entered the bar.

Right on time.

They reminded him a lot of his old team, rest their souls.

One clearly had a passion for flame. He recalled her name from the manifesto. Blaze's eyes held the fire in them. She slinked down onto the seat he proffered and gazed at the candle with an infinity in her eyes.

The bartender dropped a round of cold beers between them and then excused himself for the evening. He deposited the key in Allan's hand and didn't bother asking for money.

"Thank you, Vinke," he said with a bow.

The wrinkled bartender returned the gesture. "Good night, my friend."

Captain Edgars wasted no time. For the next two drinks, he expertly briefed the group on his last mission. He told them about the boobytraps, the monsters, and the evil serpent. He told them the risk, and then he pointed to the Serpent's Eye at the center of the table, its red surfaces glinting in the candlelight.

Blaze remained fixated on the dancing candlelight, burning a perpetual half-smile. She was listening.

"The last thing I learned was there is another lair, another temple full of demon seed. I think they feed on each other for nourishment until one remains, and then that strong larva becomes the successor." He stroked the knife strapped to his boot. "And I know where it is."

The man next to Blaze leaned forward and whispered. "Really? Captain Edgars. Allan—Edgars? What, you one of those crazy sons of bitches and think you're Edgar Allan frickin' Po, or something? A Basilisk? Devil eggs? Are you hearing yourself?"

Blade brandished a matte-black butterfly knife. He flipped it open and ran it over his knuckles like a seasoned drummer, blade blurring. When he reversed the order and snapped it shut in his hand, he grinned.

"Captain Edgars, sir." Blade shed a forced smile. "If the treasure is what you say it is, and there's another jewel identical to this one with our name on it, then you've got yourself a team of mercs." He sniffed. "We ain't scared of a little snake and some danger."

The woman with glowing green glasses peered at the jewel. She picked it up and placed a gadget the size of a quarter on the surface. Her glasses beeped, and Edgars noted the readout scrolling down her HUD lenses.

"It's authentic."

"Once we clear the lair and confirm all the eggs are accounted for, both jewels are yours along with the rest of the bounty. And, trust me, there's more than you can imagine."

"Ha. I can imag—"

A guttural shriek pierced the veil of the jungle, a prehistoric call soon drowned out by the beating of broad wings like snapping sheets. Edgars knew what it was. It seemed he wasn't the only one with a score to settle.

The captain regarded Blade and the rest of his team. Edgars wasn't sure what the specialties of the other two members were, but judging by the detonation cord necklace on one and the excavation light on the others forehead, his team was whole once again.

He pulled the token knife from his boot and jabbed it into the table next to the ruby. He glared at the motley crew and jerked his chin to the eighteen-inch fang-dagger.

"No. You're not scared, I suppose." Edgars grunted. "But you will be."

[820 words / 20,464 total]