The Chaos Order (Fanghunters Book Three) (21 page)

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Authors: Leo Romero

Tags: #Horror, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Suspense, #Thriller & Suspense, #supernatural, #Paranormal, #Mystery, #Vampires, #Occult, #Crime, #Organized Crime, #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction

BOOK: The Chaos Order (Fanghunters Book Three)
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Dom darted for the nearest tree and pressed himself up against it. The explosions continued, relentless. Another cannonball smashed into the wall, making a huge hole. When the smoke cleared, Rafa stuck his head through the hole from the outer side of the wall. He looked around with a dumb stare. “
Ay caramba,
” he said, crossing himself.

“DUCK!” Dom shouted.

The cannon blasted again.

Rafa’s jaw dropped. He ducked back down. The cannonball struck the wall, making an even bigger hole. Rafa’s face appeared in the gap; he was now coated with plaster dust like a donut sprinkled with powdered sugar. He coughed hard under the thick dust cloud. “What the hell is this?” he asked in between coughs, his watery eyes brimming with confusion.

“They’ve got cannons,” Alicia shouted back over her shoulder. She grabbed one of Rafa’a AK-47s and began firing it off toward the villa, spraying the whole area without fear. Her toned arm flexed and her breasts jiggled under the pressure.

Dom watched her open-mouthed.
Man, she’s a real action babe.

He caught Trixie’s disapproving stare; she was glaring at him, her mouth a slit as he admired Alicia in action.

Dom gave her a shrug and mouthed the word, ‘what?’ before turning his attention back to Alicia.

Alicia emptied the magazine and lowered the gun. She studied the front of the villa with keen eyes. The cannon fire had come to a stop. The guys aiming their guns had either gone into retreat or hiding. Dom grinned; she’d managed to clear the area for them.

Alicia got on her radio. “
Atacar!

Rafa took the cue. He leaped through the demolished wall and grabbed his other AK. He got to work, peppering the patio. Bodies scrambled left and right for cover. From his position, Dom scanned the area ahead. He spotted the cannons set up to the left and right of the steps leading up to the villa entrance. Their round mouths were poking out of small, purpose built enclosures. A couple of guys were ducked down around each of them; one guy was pulling the cannons back to load up, while the other was doing the igniting. The one on the left was loaded, then pushed forward into position. A few seconds later, it exploded in a blast of smoke. Dom ducked. The projectile ruined the top of a tree over to the right, getting wedged inside its trunk in a hot, smoky rupture. The smell of scorched wood filled the air.

Dom growled to himself. They needed to take the cannons out if they were going to have any chance of getting in the villa itself.

The one on the right then fired; Rafa dived behind a bush. The wall behind them took more punishment. Rafa vanished in the ensuing dust cloud. When it cleared, Rafa turned and stared at the damaged wall open-mouthed. He crossed himself, then pointed up at the sky.

“We’ve gotta take out those cannons,” Dom stated, scampering bent over toward Trixie.

Trixie slipped off her bullet-proof vest. “Wait here,” she said before sneaking off.

“Trixie! Trixie, where you going?” Dom shouted.

Trixie didn’t answer, instead, she vanished into the bushes.

Dom turned to Alicia and gave her a frustrated shrug, just as her radio crackled into life. She answered it. “
Si?

Some Spanish came through the crackle. Alicia responded in a stern tone.

“What was that?” Dom asked.

“They got cannons at the back too,” Alicia told him.

“Great,” Dom lamented. Something then caught his eye. It was Trixie. She was crawling snake-like through the bushes. She’d made it near to the lawn. Soon she’d be in no-man’s land. “God, what’s she doing?” Dom asked, grabbing his head. It was way too dangerous out there, way too easy to either catch a stray one or get pummeled with the goddamn cannons.

His concerned eyes flicked to the villa; some of the cartel guys were coming out of hiding, thinking the coast was clear. One of them pointed their way before firing off rounds. The bushes around them rattled.

“Rafa!” Alicia screamed.

Rafa took his cue. He stood, and began firing off retaliatory rounds, showering the whole area. The Los Verdugos guys ducked back down and the standoff ensued once more. It was tit-for-tat, but with the cannons on their side, they had the advantage.

And that meant it was only a matter of time before the
autodefensa
were taken out.

Trixie then emerged from the bushes and into no man’s land. Dom watched her in alarm. She was out in the open, exposed, an easy target. A hand shot up to his mouth; his heart hammered like a bass drum. He didn’t wanna watch; his fists clenched and unclenched on the air.

Oh, Christ, Trixie, what the hell are you doing? What the hell are you doing?

 

 

 

 

T
rixie didn’t wanna be outdone by this Alicia girl. She could be just as adept on the battlefield and it was the perfect time to show it. Now that the cartel guys were back in the shadows, she took advantage of the lull in the battle and did her thing. She crawled out from the bushes and hopped up onto her feet. She sucked in a huge breath and went into a full frontal flip
.
In the blink of an eye, she was halfway across the sun-dried lawn. As she moved, lacerating pain erupted in her palms. She gritted her teeth; it wasn’t time for pain. She knew she had to make it to the steps leading up to the villa or it was curtains. Just a few seconds of agony was all it took; any negative thoughts would destroy her flow and leave her exposed. Instead, she kept her focus on each and every flip as if her life depended on it.

She moved like a shadow toward those steps.

The cannon on the left burst into fire.

As she flipped over, she caught a glimpse of the lawn behind her exploding in a mass of mud and smoke. The right cannon then went off. But, the slow, cumbersome performance of the cannon was no match for her speed. The ground erupted somewhere behind her.

The haven of the steps came into view; the closer she got, the less angle the cannons had to turn and shoot her. She focused in on those steps, the pain in her palms rocketing. Her determination drove her on, her will to survive overriding the agony. She put every ounce of effort into a final leap, pushing hard off her screeching palms.

Make it, Trixie! Ignore the pain! Make it!

She went head over heels, her feet landing triumphantly on the first step leading up to the villa. Now she was out of the range of the cannons.

Before she had a chance to congratulate herself, a cartel thug came racing down the steps. On seeing her, he recoiled. It gave Trixie just enough time; she raced up the steps, making a beeline for him. She threw out a hand, grabbed his ankle, and with a yelp, yanked him off his feet. The thug hit the steps back-first with an
ug!
, his gun falling from his grip.

She shot up to him and grabbed his tee. “Come on! Up!” she screamed at him. By the time his woozy eyes focused in on her, she was tugging him to his feet. She spun him and wrapped an arm around his neck, causing his tongue to pop out of his mouth. She dragged him up the remainder of the steps, just as some other thugs came running her way. She whipped her dart gun from her belt and began firing off tranqs, using the thug in her grip as a shield. She tagged a couple of cartel before they had a chance to fire their assault rifles. They collapsed to the ground amongst one or two other bodies Alicia and Rafa had already dropped. One of them staggered back and stumbled into the small pond to the left with a splash.

More thugs came streaming out of the villa to join their buddies, fully armed and agitated.

Panic erupted in Trixie’s mind. She’d bitten off more than she could chew; there were way too many of them, way too armed. An ominous rumble to her left made her head spin. One of the guys who’d been operating the cannon was desperately trying to roll it out and turn it her way, and he was halfway there. Across the patio, the other cannon guy was doing the same thing. Other thugs were helping him, getting the job done faster. The others were all aiming their guns at her, the only thing stopping them from killing her was the thug in her grip. Eventually they’d sacrifice him just to get to her, she knew it. For now it was a standoff until they got those cannons aimed her way.

She licked her dry lips, her stare fixed on all the angry tattooed guys, her grip on her dart gun tightening.

The scrape of metal on metal made her ears prick. They’d wheeled the cannons around and now they were aimed right at her.

The guy behind the cannon on her left let out an insane cackle as he lit the fuse.

The endless black tunnel of the cannon barrel stared at her like a crazed Cyclops.

Trixie’s eyes bulged in horror.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

 

 

D
om watched Trixie half in terror and half in delight as she flipped across the lawn unscathed.

His eyes widened in hope once she got to work on the thugs stationed on the patio. But, it soon turned to despair. A bunch of thugs came steaming out of the villa, aiming their guns at her.

Dom’s back straightened. “She’s outnumbered!” he shouted. His eyes fell on the empty spaces in the walls the cannon barrels occupied just a few moments earlier. He formulated the scenario in his mind; he gasped in terror.
Oh crap!

He was about to race toward the villa when a double boom rocked the air, making him duck for cover. His heart jumped up into his mouth. Trixie!

He threw out a desperate hand toward the villa, just as something flipped up and over the wall like a giant grasshopper. It spun through the air in a tight ball like an Olympic swimmer, before straightening out.

Dom watched on with a slack jaw.

She landed feet-first on the grass below, but couldn’t keep her balance; she fell back on her butt with a small yelp, smoke and dust erupting into the air from beyond the wall above and behind her.

Hot joy burned in Dom’s heart. She’d got outta there just in time.

Relief washed over Dom like cool water as he watched Trixie get back to her feet and dust herself down. A grin broke out across his cheeks, a new sense of triumph shooting through him. He turned to the others. “Let’s go!” he shouted, before charging through the bushes toward the villa. Alicia and Rafa followed up, storming toward the steps.

Dom ran straight up to Trixie. “You okay?” he asked her.

“No. But I’ll live,” she replied, rubbing her side.

Rafa and Alicia were already creeping up the steps, their guns ready. Coughs, chokes, and groans of excruciating agony rang out from the patio and down the steps. Dom looked up; smoke was rising above the cannon wall.

Rafa made it up the steps and gunfire went off. Dom craned his head up and around to lay eyes on Rafa’s wide lats trembling beneath his vest under the pressure of his rifle. He then stopped firing and advanced.

“Come on,” said Dom, ushering Trixie to follow him up the steps. Piece-by-piece, the carnage of the patio came into view. Bodies were sprawled left, right, and center like a war movie; a fair few missing limbs. The idiots had ended up firing cannonballs at each other. The left side of the patio had been destroyed, like it had been trampled on by a giant. The water in the small pond flowed red. The cannon shooter on the right had caught it full on; the top half of his body lay on the ground all alone, his blood and guts spilling out all over the stone slabs. Dom winced as he stared at the bloody mess.

“Holy shit!” Dom exclaimed, eyeing all the limbs and entrails. He’d never seen anything like it. The whole patio was like the final act of a Spaghetti Western. The hot stench of gunpowder and charred meat hit his nostrils and he threw a hand up to his mouth and nose.

“Gnarly,” Trixie said with a nod.

Rafa was undeterred. “Inside!” he ordered before setting off for the villa entrance. He stomped up to the front door, shoulder barged it open, and stormed inside.

“Man, these guys don’t mess around,” Dom said to Trixie as they moved past all the body parts. They joined Rafa inside; the entrance hallway had a marble floor, the walls smothered in a wide range of expensive paintings and tapestries. Sitting on plinths were pots and idols, one or two of which depicted the Unholy Mother in all her grotesque glory, doing a weird dance, her tongue hanging out of her mouth, snakes clasped in her hands. Lined up next to these were cabinets chock full of guns and machetes and age old weapons that would’ve been used for combat in previous centuries; spears, blowpipes, axes.

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