The Chaos Order (Fanghunters Book Three)

by Leo Romero

  She shook the horrific image out of her head. They were in a tight spot; outnumbered and outgunned. The statue on top of the plinth Alicia was squatting behind then began teetering under the force of bullets. It toppled, its downward trajectory right on Alicia’s head.

  Trixie’s eyes widened. “Alicia!” she yelled. “Look out!”

  Alicia’s head snapped up. She caught a glimpse of the statue hurtling her way. She shrieked, and rolled to the side. The statue plummeted through the air, head first. It smacked into the floor where she’d just been, breaking into chunks. Alicia eyed the pieces in horror.

  Trixie huffed. They needed to do something or it was only a matter of time before they were picked off. She watched Rafa jump out from behind his cabinet once again and sprayed the other room. He then retreated after a few bursts of ammo.

  Come on, Dom, what the hell did you have planned?

  She peeked around the corner; a gun was pointing her way. It spat into life. She ducked back, the edge of the cabinet splintering. The smell of seared wood hit her nostrils. She groaned. They had to do something, quick. Anything, just—

  A loud roar, a multi-voiced war cry, bounced off all the walls; it smacked against Trixie’s head like drumsticks. She frowned. What in the hell?

  The shooting came to an abrupt halt. From across the room, Rafa stared at her nonplussed. They both peeked around the corner. The guys in the adjacent room were now backing up to the side walls, their attention turning left and right instead of straight ahead. Something was going on outside at the back, and now the guys in the opposite room were worried about being sandwiched.

  Trixie grinned. Dom!

  She knew he could do it.

  Yeah, right.

  She met Rafa’s wide-eyed stare. She gave him a thumb-up. She then brought her fist down on the air. Rafa knew what she meant: attack! Now!

  Rafa spun out from behind the cabinet and began spraying the opposite side of the room. A couple of thugs got caught in the fire, their attention diverted to what was going on outside. The rest ducked back down in a panic.

  Trixie took the initiative. She moved out from her hidden position and raced toward enemy territory. She hid behind an armchair, and gave Rafa the signal to stop firing. The cacophony outside became audible again. Trixie popped her head around the corner; some of the thugs were sneaking out of their hiding places. They were caught between dealing with Rafa, Trixie, and Alicia or going outside and helping there.

  One guy spotted Trixie and raised his gun; Trixie had already fired off tranqs. She caught him in the chest and down he went. Another made a dash for the back exit. Trixie dropped him with ease. They were steadily gaining the advantage. A few guys made it out the back, and from where she was, Trixie could see flashes of the battle going on out there. Fists were flying, guys were on the ground wrestling, others were firing guns. It was carnage.

  Trixie glanced back at Alicia and Rafa. “Come on!” she urged them, racing for the adjacent room and the back exit.

  It was a free for all, and anyone could join in.

  Dom’s ears rang with shouting and gunfire as he watched all the remaining autodefensa storm toward the villa in their kamikaze mission. He decided to join in the chaos. He raced up the steps, just as a cartel thug came careering down them. Dom dodged him in the nick of time; the thug lost his balance and stumbled, landing in a pile at the bottom of the steps. Dom left him behind; he went and hugged the stone rail edging the steps. Now near the summit, he took in the whole patio. Fists were flying, people were grappling. The time for gun fighting was over, now it was a straight up fistfight.

  Dom licked his lips. He began taking potshots with his dart gun, hitting any thugs as they wrestled the autodefensa guys. He dropped a couple and suddenly they were gaining the advantage.

  A bunch of guys from inside the villa—the ones he’d been fighting earlier alongside Trixie, Alicia, and Rafa—came storming out. The moment they hit the patio, they sprayed it with bullets, indiscriminately firing on anyone, friend or foe. Bodies dropped. Some autodefensa guys returned the gunfire. Some of the new arrivals to the scene got tagged. It was tit-for-tat. A race to the finish. Last man standing wins.

  Through the crowd, Dom managed to get another one or two down and out. A grappling couple came twirling ahead of him like they were doing the waltz. Dom took aim, careful to hit the bad guy. Just as he shot, they went into a vicious spin; Dom’s dart ended up in the autodefensa’s ass.

  Dom winced. “Shit!”

  The autodefensa guy seized up, then collapsed. The thug watched him go in bewilderment. He then laid eyes on Dom, squatting by the edge of the steps.

  Dom shrugged. “Accidents,” he said before aiming his dart gun at the thug and firing. The thug got it in the chest; his fall was almost immediate.

  The patio was now covered in prone bodies like there’d been an air strike. Dom surveyed the scene like an embedded reporter on the peripheries of battle. The only difference was, he was involved. He stayed down low, getting shots in wherever he could. A small skirmish ahead of him broke out and a thug was grappling for an assault rifle with an autodefensa soldier.

  Just as Dom aimed his dart gun, Trixie burst onto the scene; she stormed through the rear door, firing of tranqs before Rafa and Alicia even had a chance to join her.

  Dom’s eyes lit up. They now had them surrounded. Rafa and Alicia went and stuck their guns in the faces of the scant remaining cartel guys, hitting them with a simple threat: stand down or die, it’s up to you.

  After a quick headcount told them they’d lost, the thugs reluctantly laid down their arms. They reached their empty hands for the sky before they were accosted and forced to their knees. In seconds, la Sagrada Família was swarming all over the villa, claiming it as theirs. But it still wasn’t over; there was one more thing to take care of. Víbora.

  Alicia went and grabbed one of the thugs by the hair and yanked his head up to meet her. “Dónde está el Víbora?” she asked him, her top lip curled back in a snarl.

  At first he didn’t answer. She snapped his head back, causing the veins and tendons on his neck to stretch. He shrieked.

  “Basamento! Basamento!” he stammered.

  Alicia let him go; he flopped to the ground. She turned to the others. “Basement. Let’s go!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  They stormed into the basement, their weapons at the ready. That venom tingle raced up and down Dom’s spine; there was a vamp nearby. His grip on his holy water dart gun tightened. Alicia found a light switch and flicked it on. The overhead spotlights lit up the thing sitting in the center of the room; a gold-plated coffin resting on an ornate stand.

  “You mean to tell me he actually sleeps in a coffin?” Dom whispered, his face contorted with disbelief.

  Trixie shrugged. “Some vampire myths actually do turn out to be true,” she whispered back, treading into the room on light feet, her eyes not leaving the coffin.

  “Think he’s in there now?”

  “Only one way to find out,” Trixie answered. She approached it first, the rest following. Dom stared at the coffin like it was a bomb. It had been engraved with elaborate carvings; lines that spiraled in on themselves. He’d noticed similar carvings on the upper arms of that creepy statue of Magdalena; kind of like square-shaped spirals. Dom guessed there had to be some kind of connection there.

  As Trixie drew close to the head of the coffin, she pointed at the other end. Dom took his cue and went over there.

  Alicia was looking around her in revulsion as she followed; she was clutching her crucifix tight. Rafa took up the rear, his mouth open in wonder.

  “What if he’s awake?” Dom asked Trixie, the coffin sitting there between them. “He must’ve heard all the noise.”

  “They sleep like logs once they’ve fed,” Trixie replied. “He’s definitely in there, snoozing.”

  Dom gulped and placed tentative fingertips on the coffin lid; it was stone cold. He shivered, that venom tingle sti
ll ongoing.

  Trixie called Rafa over to take her place. Trixie went and stood by the side with Alicia. Now they had him surrounded. Trixie aimed her dart gun at the coffin, taking up a menacing stance. Alicia aimed her crossbow. Double whammy. Trixie then nodded at Dom.

  “All right,” Dom said to Rafa. “On three.” He jammed his fingertips under the lip of the lid. Rafa did the same from his end.

  Trixie licked her lips.

  Dom mouthed his countdown to Rafa. “One, two... three!”

  Dom lifted. The lid was heavier than it looked. He put more effort in and it popped open. They threw it to the side, hoping to catch Víbora still sleeping.

  Dom rolled his eyes down.

  The coffin was empty. The purple velvet Víbora usually lay on stared up at them.

  Dom frowned.

  Trixie gasped.

  Dom spun his head around to meet her. A pale hand was clutched to her neck, a gun prodding into her cheek.

  “Drop your weapon, señorita,” the guy holding her hostage said to her.

  Trixie raised her hands to the ceiling, allowing her dart gun to fall to the ground. The guy in the black silk robe pulled her back away from them all. He watched everyone from over Trixie’s shoulder, his gun stuck into her cheek.

  “Give up, Víbora,” Alicia said, aiming her crossbow at him. “Your men already have.”

  “Puta!” Víbora spat in anger. “Who are you?”

  “You killed my father,” Alicia informed him. “I’m here for revenge.” She kept her crossbow aimed his way.

  “Let her go, Víbora,” Dom ordered.

  Víbora’s eyes flicked Dom’s way. “More gringos.” He turned to the side and spat. “You’re everywhere.”

  “You cannot run,” Rafa then said. “Just let her go.”

  Víbora pulled Trixie in tighter to him. She gasped. He sniffed at her neck. “Maybe I like her too much to let her go, hombre.” He opened up his mouth and pressed his fangs against Trixie’s neck as if to bite her.

  Trixie yelped. “Get away from me, you creep!” she sneered.

  Víbora ran his tongue along her neck.

  Trixie cringed, her face twisting in disgust.

  “You’ll learn to love me, baby,” Víbora said, lifting his head. He began backing up, dragging her with him.

  Dom thought about pouncing, but it was too risky. He glanced at Rafa, who had his stare fixed on Víbora and Trixie. Instead, Dom kept his dart gun aimed at Víbora as he moved back. He watched Víbora reach the rear of the room. Then, from nowhere, he threw himself down low and yanked on a lever protruding from the floor. A trapdoor popped open. Before anyone could react, Víbora stood upright and kicked Trixie hard in her butt. She went flying toward Dom and the others, their focus now on her instead of Víbora. Víbora grabbed the initiative; he dived into the secret doorway with a loud cackle that resonated from somewhere down below.

  Dom caught Trixie, just as she fell into his arms. “You okay?” he asked her.

  “Fine. Go get him!”

  Dom let her go and raced to the trapdoor alongside Rafa. On reaching it, both of them looked down the gap to see a ladder disappearing into darkness.

  “What’s down there?” Dom asked.

  “It must go to the sewers,” Rafa suggested.

  Dom squinted. “The sewers?”

  “Vamos, hombre. Let’s go get him,” Rafa said, already with his foot on a rung of the ladder, the strap of his AK slung over his shoulder. He disappeared into the darkness.

  “Oh crap,” Dom said, scanning that darkness.

  “Come on, amigo!” Rafa shouted up to him.

  A gunshot then rang out from down there and Dom ducked.

  “Dom, where are you?” Rafa shouted up from the depths.

  Dom groaned. He turned to face Trixie and Alicia. “Wait here!” he ordered before he placed a tentative leg into the trapdoor and onto a ladder rung. He descended into the darkness where a hot rancid stench hit his nostrils, making him gag. “Yeah, it’s the sewers all right,” he said to himself in disappointment. He went down for what seemed an age, before his feet touched slimy concrete. He turned to be faced with a long, grimy tunnel. Somewhere up ahead the squeak of rats echoed. Tied up against the walls were fluorescent bulbs, illuminating the tunnel. Víbora must have had this escape route planned for a while.

  Something fat and hairy darted into a nook over to the left.

  “Oh, man...” Dom groaned.

  A blast, followed by a spark to the right of his head shocked him. He bent down low.

  “He must have hid a gun down here,” Dom heard Rafa say. When he looked up, he saw him pressed up against the wall of a small nook he’d found.

  “Hide!” Rafa ordered.

  Dom looked around him with wide, frantic eyes. Up ahead was a similar nook on the opposite side. He dived into it, just as another shot rang out. He pressed himself up against the dirty concrete, that nauseous stench filling his nostrils.

  Man, the things I do, he thought to himself with despair.

  He turned his head to the side; Rafa spun into the tunnel and lit it up with bullets. He then whirled back into his protective nook just as bullets came back their way, albeit at a slower rate of fire.

  Dom peeked around the corner. The tunnel led off into the distance where it branched off. And as it was daylight outside, Víbora would need to stay in the sewers at least until nighttime.

  In the gloom, he made out Víbora running away into the distance. Rafa popped out of his crevice and chased after him. Dom followed up. The tunnel opened up into a larger tunnel that cut off to the right. A foul stench emanated from the new tunnel; filthy water ran along the center of it, rats populated it like a plague.

  They stared up and down the slime-infested tunnel in disbelief and disgust. “The sewers, hombre,” Rafa said in a grim voice. “They connect to all the towns nearby. He must have a hideaway he’s heading for.”

  Gunshots made them both duck; the wall above them sparked up.

  “There!” Rafa said, pointing ahead and to the left. Dom caught a glimpse of Víbora vanishing into a tunnel branching off the one they were in. They both stormed toward it, that hot, rancid stench inescapable; it burned in Dom’s sinuses. Rats screeched in terror as they both stomped along the edge of the rotten water flowing through the center of the tunnel, Dom flanking one side, Rafa the other. Dom eyed that disgusting water like it was lava; he didn’t wanna touch it, fearful he’d never scrub the smell off of him.

  They both darted into the tunnel Víbora had entered. It was another crap-infested passage, small grates in the ceiling offering pinpoints of light. Dom watched Víbora dancing around the shafts of light as he scampered away. Dom aimed his dart gun and took a pop shot. His dart vanished into the distance; from where he was he couldn’t tell if he’d tagged Víbora.

  Víbora then spun, and fired off some aimless shots as he ran backward, telling Dom he’d missed his target. Víbora’s shots hit the wall behind Rafa. Víbora whirled and ran. Rafa returned his gunfire with a burst from his AK. The tunnel lit up. Víbora was too far ahead to get a proper fix on him. They needed to pursue, not stop and fire. The tunnels were an intricate maze; they could easily lose him.

  “We better stay on his tail,” Dom suggested.

  Rafa nodded; they began running through the tunnels once more as Víbora twisted left and right, delving deeper into the sewer labyrinth.

  “Where the hell’s he going?” Dom asked, wiping the sweat from his forehead as they ran along. “Does he even know?” he added, breaking through a small haze of hovering flies on his side of the tunnel. His lungs were starting to ache under the heat; Rafa was obviously more acclimatized to it. Dom sucked in big breaths of the rancid air to keep his performance up. He didn’t want to let Víbora get away; they needed Alicia and Rafa onside, and to fail in this mission would risk them having to find Magdalena alone. The realization made him grit his teeth and pump his arms and legs harder.

  The moment th
ey stepped into the new tunnel, they were greeted with gunshots. They both ducked out of instinct. The shooting then turned into dull clicks. Dom looked up; Víbora was staring at his gun in frustration. He was out of bullets. He threw the empty gun in anger toward them.

  “Look out, amigo!” Rafa warned.

  Dom eyed the pistol as it cut through the air. He dodged at the right moment and it sailed harmlessly over his head, splashing into the sewage somewhere behind him.

  “We got him now!” Rafa declared, lifting up his AK to start shooting. Víbora vanished into another tunnel. “Puta!” Rafa sneered as he yet again made his escape. He was as slippery like an oil slick.

  Dom growled in anger as they both set off once more. They tailed him into the new tunnel and then a thought struck Dom: how would they find their way back? Every tunnel looked (and smelled) exactly the same.

  Maybe they should’ve left a trail of breadcrumbs like Hansel and Gretel.

  He groaned to himself. They’d have to worry about that later. Their priority was to catch this giant rat.

  They chased him into yet another tunnel, hoping to corner him soon now that he had no weapon.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Víbora scampered down a new tunnel, his sense of direction completely lost. He never thought he’d actually have to use the escape hatch he’d had built and linked to the sewers. And if he ever did, he always thought he’d be outrunning Government officials, even the army, but not these assholes. Who were they anyway? Gringos? What did they want? Why were they in Mexico? Right then those questions didn’t matter. He had to make a clean escape; the problem was he’d taken some wrong turnings and become lost in the maze of tunnels. He knew he should’ve marked the way to the safe house and not left it to memory. The plan now was just to outrun them and hopefully lose them. Especially now that he didn’t have a gun.