Fanghunters (Book 4): The Claw Order

by Leo Romero

  The panthers closed in, using zigzag movements to hunt their prey. Dom looked into the eyes of the one stalking him. They were cold, calculating, unrelenting in their predatory nature. All they knew was hunt, kill, eat, shit, repeat. There wasn’t an ounce of empathy or compassion in those eyes, just an undying desire to survive. To hunt. Its harsh breathing resonated across the air, thin strings of saliva hung from its tongue. All of a sudden, Dom wished he was back with the croc; he fancied his chances much better with him.

  Both Dom and Rafa were statue-like, lying in the sodden marsh, hoping these things would just leave them alone.

  The panthers came to a stop. Dom’s heart skipped a beat. They stood ahead of them both, panting, staring, their eyes like lasers. They were hunched over, their paws submerged in the marsh, their tails arced over their backs like a scorpion’s tail ready to attack.

  “Don’t move!” Rafa reaffirmed.

  Dom did as he was told. The panthers just continued with their psycho-stares.

  “Stay still!” Rafa said out of the side of his mouth. “Everything will be—”

  The one ahead of Rafa roared. The piercing noise tore the air like fabric.

  The panthers charged.

  “Oh shit!” Rafa blurted, shit coming out ‘sheet’, and at any other time it would’ve been hilarious, but when a three-hundred pound big cat was storming your way with a crazed glare in its eye, nothing was funny. Dom’s instincts went into overdrive. He began scrambling back, hot gibbers flying out of his mouth, his heart smashing against his ribs. A few meters away, Rafa was doing the same. But, there was no time to get to their feet and turn and run. Dom slipped in the slime and he fell back. He shot up onto his elbows and stared ahead of him. He was now inexplicably rooted, helpless.

  The panthers continued with their relentless rampage, their thick, muscular legs flexing; it was feeding time and there was plenty of fresh meat on the menu just sitting there waiting to be torn to shreds. The one heading Dom’s way pulled its lips back and exposed its huge fangs; they gleamed even in the twilight. As it ran, its claws extend from its mighty paws. They were like meat hooks. Dom stared at them with cold blood running through his veins. He could just imagine how much they were going to hurt, how fast they’d tear his guts right out of his stomach. A quick slash-slash, then wave goodbye to your intestines.

  He just hoped it would be quick.

  The panthers advanced, a guttural pant bolting from their open mouths. In Dom’s ears, it was like the chug of the engine on Gus’ boat. The one storming toward Rafa let out a roar, tearing the atmosphere to pieces.

  Dom grimaced. It was a hell of a run, but it ends right here, right now. Kind of a fitting way to go, being something’s meal.

  The panther raced up to him, its eyes full of feral desire for flesh, saliva now flying out of its gaping mouth in buckets. Dom wanted to cry.

  Another roar split the sky, but it wasn’t coming from the panthers. It was the constant whir of rotors, growing louder overhead. Dom’s eyes opened fully.

  Huh?

  Before he knew what was happening, the whir drowned out the noise of the panthers panting and splashing through the marsh. A gust of wind from behind shuddered through Dom. A colossal black shadow descended over him, that whir now deafening. Dom flicked his eyes up to lay them on the skids of the chopper they’d been hanging off barely a minute or two before.

  “Mack!” Dom gasped.

  Mack came down low, the rotors creating a huger rush of wind that spread across the area. Its shadow descended over Dom, Rafa, and the onrushing panthers. Dom half closed his eyes, the wind rushing into his face. The panthers ground to an immediate halt, their heads snapping upward to meet the new intruder, the wind pushing against their fur. Without hesitation, they whirled on the spot and galloped away in terror, their tails erect. Dom watched them go in bewilderment. They disappeared back into the bushes in the near distance.

  Dom collapsed back into the slimy marsh, his arms flopping down to the sides. “Oh man, oh man, oh man,” he repeated over and over, relief flooding his veins, his gaze fixed on the chopper as it passed overhead and landed on the boggy ground nearby.

  The back door flew open. Trixie and Alicia jumped out, their faces riddled with anxiety.

  “Hey, girls,” Dom said. “Glad you could make it in time.”

  “Are you two okay?” Trixie asked in a frantic voice.

  “We’re okay,” Rafa answered.

  “What the hell were those things?” Trixie asked, pointing to where the panthers had vanished.

  “Pussy cats,” Dom, answered, taking Trixie’s hand. She pulled him out of the marsh.

  “I think you’ve played with the wildlife enough now. Time to go!”

  “Take me back to Chicago. I’ve had enough of the jungle,” Dom moaned, staggering through the swamp, Trixie’s arm around his waist.

  Alicia kissed her crucifix and helped Rafa up. “Scaredy cat!” Rafa shouted over at the bushes. And this time, Dom did laugh.

  They both stumbled toward the chopper and got in the back, where Troy was watching with anxious eyes.

  “Hey, Troy,” Dom said in a tired voice.

  “I wanna go home!” Troy responded.

  “You and me both,” said Dom.

  “You guys okay?” Mack asked.

  “No. But thanks for coming back,” Dom said, slumping in his seat, his eyes half closed.

  “No problemo.”

  They all got in and buckled up. “Okay, get us outta here, Mack!” said Trixie.

  “Hold onto your butts!” Mack said, before slamming on the rock music and the rotors in that order.

  “Oh man, does he have to play the music,” slurred an exhausted Dom, Iron Maiden smashing him on the head.

  The whole chopper rumbled and it wasn’t the music doing it.

  They all held on as Mack got them airborne, the trembling ground getting smaller and smaller. With a hazy, nauseous mind, Dom stared out of the window. Darkness was oncoming. The lights on Mack’s helicopter were lighting up the marsh Dom and Rafa had almost been killed in. The trees lining it were trembling as if electrified. Mack pulled forward and the Amazon, appearing like a replica model, moved by them. From up high, the effects of the quake were barely visible. Dom wondered to himself how far the epicenter stretched.

  He collapsed in his seat, the nausea-inducing chopper ride a comfort compared to the last few days, especially the last couple of hours. He could barely believe he’d made it out alive. Through slitted eyes, he stared at the people sitting opposite him. Troy was slumped in his seat, still wearing that dirty and muddy Hawaiian shirt and those once white chinos. Next to Troy was Rafa, sitting stoic in his seat. He caught Dom looking at him and he gave him a firm nod. Dom returned the gesture, but it was a tired effort. Trixie’s head fell on Dom’s shoulder. Dom knew she was glad he made it out alive. He put an arm around her shoulder and rubbed.

  All the while, from his pocket came a cold pulsation. The Fangs of Moroz. They dug into his thigh just like his wallet did back in that basement with Dad and Eddie that triggered this whole madness off. He shivered. He just wanted to get back to Chicago, hand those fangs over to Vincent and get some rest. Some real rest.

  He closed his eyes, an exhausted mess. Even though the chopper bumped and whirred, and Iron Maiden blasted, in no time, he was fast asleep and dreams took over.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Mack got them out of Brazil, making a stop off at Panama for two reasons: a refuel and to book a hotel room for Troy to lay low in until nightfall arrived. Luckily, Troy had his fake passport on him the whole time. It managed to get him through Panama customs, even if it was a bit soggy. He spent all day sleeping in the bath of his hotel room where there no windows to let in any sunlight.

  The others caught up on sleep and got a well needed shower.

  Once nightfall arrived, they were on their way back to Hermosillo where Rafa had left his truck in the parking lot. Mack landed at the airport and kille
d the engine. “Hermosillo, Mexico, ladies and gents,” he declared.

  Rafa breathed in deep. “Home sweet home,” he said, Alicia squeezing his upper arm tight. Their adventure was over. For now.

  “Things might get a bit wild round here now that Magdalena’s gone,” Trixie warned. “Be ready for more battles with the cartels.”

  Rafa nodded. “We’re always ready, Trixie,” he retorted. “Our battle isn’t over yet.”

  “We’ve chased them out of Tijuana,” Alicia said. “If they want more wars, they’ve got them.”

  Trixie nodded. “That’s good to hear.”

  Dom sighed. “Well, looks like this is goodbye,” he said, reaching a hand out to Rafa. Rafa leaned forward and gave Dom a firm shake of his hand.

  “So long, amigo. Thanks for your help.”

  “Likewise,” Dom said with a sincere nod.

  Trixie reached out her hand. Rafa took it, and pulled her in toward him. Trixie let out a small yelp.

  “It’s been a pleasure, senorita,” Rafa said and planted a big kiss on her lips.

  Trixie pulled away, her cheeks reddening. She gave Rafa a coy look. “It certainly has.” She turned to the side to catch Dom’s glare. “What?”

  Dom didn’t say a word. Instead, he got to his feet, reached out, grabbed Alicia and pulled her up out of her seat and into him. He went to kiss her on the lips, but they bumped noses. “Ow,” Alicia said, rubbing her nose.

  Rafa and Trixie burst into laughter.

  Dom grumbled under his breath. “Let’s try that again,” he said, taking more care to make sure he kissed her on the lips. After what he’d been through, it was the perfect finish. He pulled away and gave her a hug. “Thanks for all your help,” he said to her.

  “Thank you, Dom,’ Alicia said back. “And Trixie.”

  “How about me?” Troy said from his seat. “Do I get a kiss?” He had his arms open wide, his clothes as filthy as his grin.

  Alicia glanced down at him, and her face pinched. “No!” she answered in an uncompromising tone.

  “Sorry, amigo,” Rafa said with a shrug.

  Troy’s grin melted. “Ugh, Latinos!” he grumbled and stared out of the window.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  They made sure to exchange contact details with Alicia and Rafa before Mack took off. Dom was sad to see them go. They’d created a bond over the last few days, saving each other’s asses and helping one another in their respective mission. With the way his life had turned and with Alicia’s determination to beat the cartels, he wondered if any of them would see each other again. All it took was a stray bullet or a scrap with the wrong fanghead and it was curtains for any of them.

  He shivered at the thought.

  A feeling of emptiness suffused him as if something was missing; something had gone that wouldn’t be coming back. Everything; the travel, the adrenaline, the near-death experiences, the adventure, the friendship, it was over and now it was time to go home. He felt a bizarre sense of sadness, when in reality he should’ve been relieved that he managed to escape with his life. Maybe he was becoming addicted to the danger, maybe he was becoming an adrenaline junkie. He didn’t know if he liked that thought or not.

  As they flew through the night back toward the US and Chicago, Dom wondered what the future had in store.

  Mack landed at O’Hare and straight away Trixie’s senses were alerted. A shiver coursed up her spine as Mack turned off the rotors. “Something’s not right here,” she said to herself. In the seat next to her, Dom was fast asleep and snoring. The rain was still falling, not heavily, but falling.

  “Home sweet home,” Mack said. “We’ll get clearance, grab a refuel, then get you back home.”

  Trixie squinted her eyes to get a better look out of the rain-smeared window. Standing near the entrance to the airport was a soldier. A soldier in full combat gear and assault rifle in hand.

  “Oh my God,” she gasped.

  She spotted another one patrolling the runway, and another walking in the opposite direction. “What’s with the security, Mack?” she asked.

  “It got beefed up once the floods started.”

  Trixie gulped. “Martial law?”

  “In all but name.”

  “Oh man...”

  Dom stirred, woke up and stretched his arms. “Are we there yet?” he asked with a yawn.

  “Yeah, we’re back in Chicago,” Trixie answered, her concerned gaze fixed on the soldiers.

  “I need to bail here. That sky’s looking horribly light,” Troy said, his voice loaded with trepidation.

  “Okay, Troy. We’ll get you through customs, then off you go.”

  “I hope I get paid well for the help I gave you. I almost died.”

  “Yeah, Troy. Don’t worry. Dad will give you a nice bonus.”

  “Good,” Troy said, straightening his filthy and torn Hawaiian shirt. “Man, I look terrible.”

  “You look like normal to me,” Dom said, rubbing his eyes.

  “Eat me, Dom,” Troy said.

  “If the snakes wouldn’t eat you, why the hell would I?”

  Troy mumbled something under his breath. “Come on, let me outta here would’ya?”

  Trixie opened the door, exposing the chilly and wet outside world.

  “Ah, cold Chicago,” Dom said, rubbing his arms. “No more sunshine for us.”

  Troy jumped past them all and out of the chopper.

  Dom glanced at Trixie. “You okay?”

  Trixie nodded, rubbing her wet eyes. “Yeah. I’m just...”

  “Pooped?”

  She chuckled. “Pooped,” she echoed with a nod.

  “Me too. I thought I was a goner in that temple.”

  “Was it that bad?”

  Dom blew out his cheeks. “I’ll tell you all about it sometime.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  Dom got to his feet. “Come on, let’s get going.”

  Trixie stepped out of the chopper. The rain soaked her in an instant.

  Dom followed up, the rain giving him the same treatment. He looked around, laying eyes on a soldier patrolling the runway. “What the hell?”

  Trixie nodded. “Yeah. Looks like Chicago is in lockdown.”

  Dom facepalmed. “’Cause of us?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “Hey, can we get going?” Troy urged, pointing at the sky. “The sun’s rising.”

  Mack got out and led them into the airport, papers in hand.

  “Hope Troy’s fake passport works here,” Dom whispered to Trixie as they went.

  “Shh! With all this security, we better play things cool.”

  Inside, the airport was quiet; people weren’t traveling.

  “This place is a ghost town,” Dom noted. There were more armed soldiers around, some patrolling the perimeters, others standing guard. Trixie got a creepy feeling staring at them. “There’s something bad going on here,” she stated.

  “When isn’t there?” Dom asked.

  A voice came on loudspeaker. “All passengers please have your passports ready for inspection and stand in the correct line for scanning; any refusal for scans will be met with the necessary penalties. Thank you.”

  “Oh man, they’re gonna get Troy for sure,” Dom said. “We should’ve left him back in Mexico to make his own way back.”

  “We couldn’t!” Trixie snapped. “We need Troy. And we need to know where he is.”

  They watched Troy step up to the security gate, their eyes wide in anticipation. Waiting to check his passport was a mean-looking security guard. He ushered Troy toward him using just his index and middle fingers.

  “What if he doesn’t make it through?” Dom whispered to Trixie. “What do we do?”

  Trixie turned to face him. “You ever had a cavity search?”

  “This isn’t funny, Trix. His passport might’ve fooled every country between here and Brazil, but this is the States and security’s tighter than a miser.”

  Trixie let out a hot br
eath. “Then just pray.”

  “Nice,” Dom said, giving her an ironic nod. He turned his attention back to Troy. Troy gave the guard a grin, making sure not to part his lips for obvious reasons. The guard just stared at him like a cyborg.

  “Passport please,” he said to Troy, his face unflinching.

  Troy reached into his pocket. He pulled out his beat-up passport and held it up in the air, that grin still on his face.

  Trixie winced as she watched on. She had no idea how this was gonna go.

  “You Trixie?”

  The voice came from their left. Trixie turned in its direction. She was faced with a guy wearing a sharp suit and sporting a neat-trimmed beard. Trixie looked him up and down. “Who’s asking?”

  “Vincent Beauchamp sent me down here to help you with any problems you might have with security here.”

  Dom’s brow furrowed. “And how are you gonna do that exactly?”

  “I’m from the Agency,” the guy said.

  “What Agency’s that?” asked Dom.

  “I’m not allowed to say. I’m just here to make sure you get through. Now, you guys got anything on you that you shouldn’t have?”

  “Just him,” Dom said, nodding his head toward Troy.

  Troy turned back to face them all, his face pinched in confusion.

  “Who’s this guy?” the Agency guy asked, cocking a thumb at Troy.

  “We found him in a Tijuana ghetto,” said Dom. “We decided to bring him with us.”

  “Bite me!” Troy growled under his breath.

  “He’s with us,” Trixie said. She leaned in close to the Agency guy. “He needs help getting through security.”

  The Agency guy’s eyes lit up. “Okay, leave it to me, I got you enough clearance to include him. We got a car waiting for you outside as well.”

  “We’re not going in the chopper?” asked Dom, feigning lament.