The Claw Order (Fanghunters Book 4)

by Leo Romero

  A moment of silence ensued. Dom sat back in his seat, his mind blown. He shook his head. What the hell was going on? Who exactly was Vincent? All of a sudden, Dom was thinking back to all those skeletons in the temple of Magdalena. He’d assumed they were there to uncover the loot. But, could it be that they were there for Magdalena herself? Sent there by... Clement DeNoir? Man, one of them was just a kid! He shivered. He’d never know. It was all speculation.

  Faisal snapped his head to the side, his eye widening. Something had him spooked.

  “What’s up—”

  Faisal reached over the desk and grabbed Dom’s wrist. “Shh!”

  Dom frowned; he looked down at Faisal’s hand clamped to his wrist. “You wanna let go, buddy?”

  “I said ‘shh’!” Faisal repeated in a stern tone, his eye rolling left and right.

  Dom glanced at Trixie; she locked eyes with him for a moment before looking around the room. All three of them sat in silence for a few seconds, Faisal’s mouth a tight O. The sound of distant traffic filled the airwaves.

  “Buddy—” Dom began.

  Faisal finally let go of his wrist. He pressed an erect finger to his pursed lips, indicating for Dom to keep it shut. Still attuned to whatever he could hear, Faisal rose to his feet. He began to pace around the room with slow, quiet steps, his neck craning toward every corner. Dom watched him, nonplussed. He caught Trixie’s equally bemused stare and shrugged. She turned back to watch Faisal, who was now sniffing at a bookcase.

  “Kinda getting dusty, huh?” Dom asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

  Faisal ignored him. He stepped toward the window. There was a deep frown of concentration embedded in his face that had Dom thinking of those old sculptures in museums of Greek philosophers, their chins resting on their fists, looking like they were breaking down atoms while taking a crap. And in that moment, Dom knew that Faisal knew something was up. He went to speak, when Faisal threw another stern finger his way before he even had a chance to utter a word.

  But instead, Dom gasped, his eyes bulging. There was a shadow at the window, a silhouette visible in the white blind.

  “Fais—” he began, but was cut off by an abrupt smash of glass. It showered into Faisal’s room like a wave of snow, sprinkling over Faisal like confetti. He had just enough time to duck before a masked jihadi burst into the room uninvited, his bloodshot eyes boiling. In his hand was a machete, which was already on the way down toward Faisal’s exposed neck.

  Trixie was the first to react. She plucked a thick tome from the desk they were at and flung it instinctively at the intruder. It flew over Faisal in his bent position and smacked the jihadi dead between the eyes. The impact was hard enough to snap his head back. He staggered backward, his momentum reversed. His machete continued on its trajectory regardless; it missed Faisal by about a foot, slicing only air. Glass crunched beneath the jihadi’s feet as he stumbled back onto the small balcony, his free hand up to his masked face where the book struck him.

  Trixie was up and out of her seat like a jackrabbit. Dom caught a glimpse of a blur move across the room. A stiff boot shot out from the haze that vanished out into the balcony. There was a loud thump, a snap of bone, and a yell that seemed to drop off and abruptly end.

  Everything fell silent for a second or two, Faisal still crouched over, his hands up by his ears, Dom rooted in his seat. Dom sucked in a deep breath, his own eyes wide and alert while he waited.

  Trixie came storming back into the room with a purposeful stride. “We need to get outta here!” she said in a snappy tone, concern etched into her face. She barely looked at the other two as she headed straight for the door.

  “Trix! What’s—” Before Dom had a chance to finish, the door to the room flew open, crashing into the wall. Trixie recoiled, the door missing her by centimeters. She successfully dodged the swinging cricket bat before thrusting a forward kick into the abdomen of the advancing thug. He slammed back into the floor. From behind his prone body, the rapid stomp of boots along the corridor bombarded the room.

  “Trixie!” Dom shouted, just as the blind covering the smashed balcony window was torn off the wall. Dom spun on the spot toward the window. A burly, gorilla-shaped man wrapped in black came stomping in from the balcony, his beefy hands outstretched, ready to grab hold of him.

  Dom tried to react, but wasn’t fast enough. Those meaty hands grabbed his throat, his fingers like thick coiling snakes; they wrapped themselves around his neck and squeezed. Blood instantly filled Dom’s head. In seconds, he was choking. His tongue popped from his mouth and he fell backward under the weight of the gorilla. He slammed into the floor, his breath stolen from his chest. The gorilla landed right on top of him; a mountain of sweaty flab. Dom groaned, while the gorilla continued to throttle him.

  Through the broken balcony window jumped another masked thug, a heavy coil of chain in his grip that glinted under the midday sun. On seeing Faisal bent over, he raised the chain above his head, ready to bring it down.

  Trixie got to work. She grabbed the door and threw it back the way it came. The first of the advancing jihadis slammed into it, causing it to tremble in its frame. Without hesitation, she grabbed another book from the desk and flung it without aiming. It cut through the air like a Frisbee. There was a whoop, then a clang as it connected with the chain the latest thug was wielding. The book became wrapped up inside it, confusing the thug, who thought he had a clear route down onto the back of Faisal’s head. His arm spun away in the opposite direction, sending him reeling back.

  Trixie was on him in a flash. She cut through the room like a bolt of lightning as she propelled herself off the surface of the desk into a summersault. She let out a yell as she crashed her boots into the thug’s midriff. He was forced back out onto the balcony where he toppled over and crashed to the ground below. Trixie jumped back up to her feet. She whirled to her left. She flinched back in disgust as she laid eyes on the blubbering whale that was molesting Dom. Dom’s face had turned an alarming shade of maroon, his tongue lolling from his mouth like a thirsty dog. The flabby butt cheeks of the whale rippled like the waves of the Nile beneath his black robes as he exerted more pressure on Dom’s throat. He looked determined to snap every bone in his neck, animalistic, guttural sounds bolting from his mouth that were laced with cackles of pleasure.

  “Trixie!” Dom choked in a hoarse voice, his eyes bulging out of his head like Schwarzenegger in Total Recall. “Help… please…”

  Trixie whipped out an instinctive hand and grabbed another book from the desk. She brought it back over her shoulder, ready to fling it. Just as she went to throw, something clamped on her forearm, stopping her. Her face scrunched. She spun her head around; Faisal’s hand was clamped on her forearm.

  “No, no,” Faisal said in a panic, a look of extreme concern on his face. “Not this one,” he added, ripping the book from her grip. He pulled it in tight to his chest and breathed a sigh of relief.

  Trixie gave him a quizzical look.

  “Holy Quran,” Faisal told her.

  Trixie’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Sorry.”

  “Can you guys... Help!” Dom squeezed out of his constricted throat, his eyes zoning out.

  Trixie shook her head and tutted. She turned away from Faisal and hurdled the desk once more, landing just behind the gorilla. She gazed down at the undulating mess by her feet, her nose turned up in disgust.

  “Ugh!” she uttered before lifting her foot and bringing it down flat on the gorilla’s meaty neck, digging her heel in for good measure. The gorilla let out a grunt of pain, finally releasing Dom’s throat. Dom sprawled back, the blood rushing away from his head. Before he had a chance to catch a breath, the gorilla landed on top of him, flattening him. Dom was winded for a second time, the smelly hippo pinning him down again.

  He let out a tormented groan. “Now I know what a Sumo wrestler’s wife feels like,” he said, his whole body squashed into the floor.

  The hippo shook off Trixie’s blow and cra
nked himself up onto his haunches, thankfully relieving Dom of his immense burden. Dom grabbed the opportunity and slid back as fast as he could.

  The hippo whipped his head around. On seeing Trixie standing there, he let out a confused grunt as if disbelieving a skinny girl could have landed such a heavy blow on him.

  Trixie cocked her head to the side, one hand on her hip. She raised her eyebrows at him as if to say ‘yeah, it was me. And?’

  The gorilla jumped up on his feet with surprising agility considering his robes rippled alongside the weight he was carrying. He stood up tall, his shadow consuming Trixie, who watched him with steady eyes.

  “Jeez, what the hell you been chowing down on, Jack? Brontosaurus?”

  The gorilla ran a bulbous thumb across his neck.

  Trixie let out an irritated sigh. “God, not this macho bullshit again,” she lamented. “Why do you guys always have to try and prove yourselves against me, huh?”

  The hippo jammed his thumb into his chest between his sagging breasts before jabbing a finger on the air toward her. He wiggled his hips around in a grotesque fashion, his blubber wobbling on the air like jello caught in a stiff breeze.

  Trixie flipped a hand on the air. “Yeah yeah, whatever, Jack. Just make your move so we can get this over with.”

  The hippo’s midriff quivered in anger, his breasts rolling. A high-pitched screech blasted out from beneath his mask. And he set off. He blundered toward her, his feet stamping on the floor like a demented elephant. The whole room shook under the stampede.

  Trixie kept her cool, undaunted by the thing lumbering toward her. She gathered herself, taking up position, readying herself for just the right moment to strike. The rhino came charging along, ready to slam into her, surely to break her into pieces. Trixie ran a rapid tongue over her bottom lip, her eyes wide and focused.

  Dom watched on from the ground, the slam of the rhino’s massive feet smashing into the floor shaking his eardrums. He kept his stare on Trixie. She had hers on the juggernaut heading her way. She waited. Waited for just the right moment.

  The rhino was almost on her, that screech bolting from his mouth, his hands on the air ready to grab hold of her and crush her.

  Trixie shimmied from side-to-side before taking a quick sidestep, clearing the way for him. The raging bull juddered onward regardless, unable to put the brakes on. He stormed toward the broken window like a lemming in the heat of suicide. He briefly turned his head to the side once he realized she wasn’t in front of him anymore, but his body was late to respond. By the time he spun his head back the way it came, he steamed through the open window to the balcony beyond. He screamed like a scared pig as he toppled over the railing and dropped like lead. There was a loud splat like a melon dropped from a roof and hitting a marble floor, and the scream stopped.

  Trixie went and peeked over the railing. She sucked in air through her teeth. “Nasty,” she said with a brisk shake of her head. “That’s gonna need bleach.” She came back into the room, dusting her hands. “Well, he didn’t last long,” she said as she stepped toward Dom.

  Dom rubbed his neck. “Too long for my liking,” he croaked, as he got to his feet.

  The door burst open; the doorway was full of more guys in black robes.

  “Christ, they don’t give in, do they?” Dom groaned.

  “Stand back!” Faisal shouted.

  Both Trixie and Dom turned his way. Dom recoiled in shock. Trixie’s eyes bulged. In his hand was a bottle of clear liquid with a flaming rag stuffed into its neck. Without hesitation, he flung it at the doorway. Dom threw up a hand to protect his face; Trixie turned away. The bottle crashed into the oncoming jihadi’s chest. There was a smash of glass, followed by a woosh! The whole room flashed bright as flames spread across the doorframe and up the wall above the door. The jihadi released an inhuman shriek as he scampered in a frantic circle, flailing his enflamed arms on the air. His comrades jumped back into the corridor away from the human torch.

  Dom flicked his eyes from the lit-up jihadi to Faisal. “What the hell are you doing?” Dom shouted at him.

  “Saving your bottoms, my American friends!” Faisal retorted before slinging another Molotov at the doorway. It crashed into the corridor beyond, lighting it up.

  “But, you’ll destroy your home!” Trixie shouted above the roar of flames.

  Faisal let out a huge sigh. “Alas, this cannot be my home any longer,” he said as he sparked another cocktail. He held up his Quran. “I have all I need. None of these materials matter to me now.” He slung the bottle at the desk. It smashed, spreading hot liquid across its surface that erupted into flames in an instant. In the following seconds, the acrid stench of burning paper and wood filled the room.

  Dom protected his eyes from the blaze. He caught a glimpse of that black and white picture of Faisal and Vincent wilt and shrivel into black ash before floating up onto the air, lost forever. “We better get the hell outta here!” Dom shouted over the roar of fire, not wanting to succumb to the same fate as that picture of ‘younger’ Vincent. The heat emanating from the fires was fast becoming unbearable. He grabbed Trixie by the arm and rushed toward Faisal at the broken balcony window.

  “Come on!” Faisal urged, throwing a final flaming bottle at the far end of the room, where burning bodies were now running in circles like it was a human torch party.

  Dom raced over to Faisal’s side, Trixie alongside him. Now he could see where Faisal had been getting the Molotovs from. A bookcase over to the side of the window; they were lined up on a shelf, a collection of books lying on the ground, previously hiding them.

  “You mean you had those ready and waiting?” Trixie asked, her voice enveloped with incredulity.

  “Emergency escape!” Faisal said with a grin and a raise of his eyebrows. “Follow me!” He hopped out onto the balcony, broken glass crunching under his feet. Once out there, he kicked a small box he’d attached to the side of his balcony wall. It popped open, releasing a rope ladder that unraveled and snaked down the side of the building. “Down we go!” Faisal said before leaping over the edge of the balcony and grabbing hold of the rungs of the ladder as he dropped. He vanished from sight.

  Dom stared at Trixie for an anxious moment. A scream rang out behind them from Faisal’s apartment.

  “What are you two waiting for?” Faisal’s voice floated up from down below.

  Dom dashed to the railing and looked down. Faisal was ambling down the ladder, halfway down the apartment block already.

  Son of a gun! Dom thought to himself, impressed with the old man.

  He turned to face Trixie, a wry grin on his face. Something came lumbering toward the window. “Look out!” he shouted.

  Trixie spun just in the nick of time, just as a walking inferno lunged toward her. She dodged the flailing fire arms and dashed over to the side. The burning jihadi staggered forward in a screeching fit, desperate to put the flames out. He toppled over the balcony railing and fell through the air like burning rubble.

  Trixie puffed her cheeks. “Let’s get outta here!” she shouted before leaping over the balcony and grabbing the rope ladder.

  Dom licked his lips. He took a final look back; the whole apartment was engulfed in flames. An invisible wall of sheer heat now pushed against him. As the seconds ticked by, the flames were crawling across the floor to the balcony like it was covered in gunpowder. He grabbed his forehead. “Oh crap!” He knew he had no choice. He turned away from the fires and dashed to the railing. The ladder was beckoning, twitching under the weight of Faisal and Trixie. He peeked over the edge. The dirty street below shot back up at him like an arrow, hitting him in the middle of his forehead, infecting him with a bout of light headedness. He staggered back against it, a dizzy spell taking over. Then the heat from the fire hit him again and he lurched forward to escape it.

  “Come on, Dom!” came Trixie’s shout from below. He came to as if waking from a nightmare. Something from inside the burning apartment exploded under the
pressure, making Dom jump into life. He dashed for the ladder and hoisted a tentative leg up over the railing.

  Man, it was better on top of the freakin’ I-Sore.

  His trembling foot hovered on thin air as it looked for a rung of the rope ladder. He caught hold of one and put his weight down on it. He gasped in shock; it felt about as strong as a cotton swab. He groaned under the anxiety suddenly shooting through his mind. He closed his eyes for a moment, sucked in a breath of hot air and swung his whole body over. His heart jumped into his throat as he became airborne. He gripped the sides of the ladder with all his might, his nails digging into his palms. His other foot missed the rung and his stomach clenched, his eyelids flying open. He pulled his body into the balcony wall, trying to hug it tight, his nails digging in harder. His cheek hit cement, while his free foot desperately searched for a rung. It found one, and he regained his balance. He became perfectly still, now hanging off the side of the building. He afforded a look upward; the brilliant blue sky beamed down at him. His whole body began to wobble.

  What the—

  He realized it was the ladder shaking under the weight of the other two as they descended.

  Can this thing even hold all three of us? he thought with mild alarm. It better.

  “Move your ass, Dom!” Trixie’s shouted from below.

  He sneaked a look down to spot the top of Trixie’s head. She was halfway down already.

  “On my way!” he shouted back, trying his best not to sound nervous. Or scared. I mean, why should he be scared, this ladder was safe as houses, right?

  He steadied himself, then reached a foot down to the next rung. He found it, and immediately slipped off it. Heart in mouth time again.

  “Why me?” he groaned, tightening his grip. “How the hell did I get into this crap?” Screw you, Vince, over there in Chicago while I’m hauling ass down the side of an apartment building on a frickin’ rope ladder in the middle of Baghdad while being chased by burning jihadis!

  He took a breath, then began descending nice and slow, taking one rung at a time. The rope ladder was as flimsy as drinking straws, like it would snap at any moment. The blazing sun bore down on him, heating the back of his neck. That dizzy sensation returned, like at any moment something bad was gonna happen, like the end of the world. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.