by Leo Romero
He groaned in agony, his chest heaving, his burned-out lungs lapping up the copious amounts of oxygen the trees overhead were supplying. He was spent, a physical mess. He collapsed into the trembling and juddering mud beneath him.
High above him, wild animals scampered through the trees in absolute terror.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Rafa took control of the boat and got them moving. Trixie pulled out Dom’s smartphone and studied it with frantic eyes, all the while the world shaking and quivering around them.
“I got a signal!” Trixie declared.
“Where?” Rafa asked, steering the boat, watching the canopy above them for more trees about to fall.
“Back where we came!” Trixie shouted. “He’s not in the temple any more. He’s out in the river.”
Rafa turned the boat around and pushed down the throttle. They sped past floating trees and pods, the water rocking up and down the banks. They were pushed left and right, but Rafa managed to negotiate his way through the water. Trixie watched the rumbling trees in trepidation. They needed to get outta there ASAP. But, first they needed to pick up Dom.
They made it back up the Madeira near to where they first disembarked for the temple.
Trixie looked around. “He should be around here!” she stated, glancing from the banks to the smartphone in her hand. She and Alicia shone their flashlights up and down the riverbanks, hoping to lay their beams on Dom.
Trixie looked up the river with anxious eyes, poking her flash forward. She then lit up a body lying face down on the muddy riverbank up ahead.
“There he is!” she exclaimed.
Alicia’s eyes widened. “Thank God,” she gasped, kissing her crucifix. “Is he alive?”
“I hope so!” Trixie retorted. “Rafa get over there!”
Rafa maneuvered the boat toward the bank. Thankfully, they’d hit a small period of relative calm, the trembling ground now at a tiny murmur. Trixie leaped out of the boat near the bank, the water coming up to her knees. She ran through the remainder of the water toward Dom. “Dom! Dom!” she yelled. On reaching him, she grabbed him by the shoulders and rolled him over. “Dom! Dom! Are you oaky? Speak to me!”
Dom’s eyelids came halfway open. “I need a beer,” he said.
Tears jumped out of Trixie’s eyes. She pulled him to her and hugged him hard.
Dom began groaning in pain. “Trixie... Trixie...” he stammered. “I... can’t... breathe!”
Trixie finally released him, just as Alicia came to join them. She then grabbed hold of Dom and hugged him. “Oh, Dom, we thought we’d never see you again.” She kissed his cheek.
A small smile flittered across Dom’s face.
Trixie then grabbed hold of him again and then they were both hugging and kissing him. Dom grinned. “Hmm, I needed that.”
The girls finally pulled back.
“What happened? Did you find Magdalena?” Trixie asked, wiping her eyes.
Dom reached into his pocket, pulled out the Fangs and held them up. “Magdalena’s toast.” He then began laughing absently.
Trixie’s eyes lit up. “You got them!”
“I got them, baby,” Dom said in an exhausted voice. He shoved the Fangs back in his pocket, just as a loud rumble snapped the atmosphere.
“We better get outta here,” Trixie declared. They pulled Dom to his feet and got him onto the boat.
“Good to see you, amigo!” Rafa said, giving him a heavy pat on the back.
Dom gave him a nod. “You too, buddy.”
“Get going, Rafa!” Alicia ordered.
Rafa started up the engine.
“Wait, where’s Troy?” Dom then asked, looking around.
“Troy?” echoed Trixie.
“Yeah, he was with me in that temple.”
Trixie shook her head. “We don’t know where Troy is. But we’ve gotta move, there’s a crazy earthquake going on.”
“Earthquake?”
“Well, what would you call it?”
The world then shook; Trixie almost fell off the boat and into the water. She regained her balance and turned to Rafa. “Get us outta here!”
Rafa got them moving through the distressed river. All around them animals were fleeing left and right.
“You got my phone?” Trixie asked Dom.
“Huh? Yeah.” Dom reached into his pocket and pulled it out. “Here.”
Trixie took it off him. “Why’s the screen cracked?”
Dom sighed. “Long story.”
Trixie shook her head. “Call Dad,” she said into the phone, bypassing the need to use the touchscreen. After a few rings, he answered.
“Patricia! Where on earth are you?”
“Brazil. The Amazon. Listen, Dom got the Fangs.”
“Really? What happened?”
“He killed Magdalena!”
“Oh my.”
A small tremor rocked the boat.
“Look, I gotta go cause there’s some sorta earthquake going on.”
“Earthquake? My goodness!”
“Don’t sweat it, Dad! We got it under control. Just hang tight, we’ll be back soon!” She hung up. She stared around her with wide eyes.
“What’s that over there?” Alicia asked.
Trixie frowned, she lifted her flashlight up to where Alicia was pointing hers. Something was lying face down in the mud on the bank up ahead. At first Trixie thought it was a dead animal, but when she saw the white chinos and the flower pattern of the famous Hawaiian shirt, she knew what it was. “It’s Troy!” Trixie exclaimed, pointing at him. “Rafa go get him!”
Rafa swung the boat over to the bank where Troy had been washed up, just as the rumbling started up again. Trixie and Dom both jumped out of the boat and dashed over to him. They grabbed his shoulders and rolled him over. His whole front was caked with mud, only his eyeballs visible within the mess.
“I don’t ever want to come here again!” Troy declared in a coarse voice, his eyeballs rolling.
“Don’t worry. We’re getting outta here,” Trixie said as they dragged him to the boat. “Step on it, Rafa.” Rafa sped along the river under the moonlight, the world around them shimmering and vibrating. Trixie was studying her smartphone, trying to work out the best rout outta there. A big rumble then shook the world; she lost her balance and fell on her butt with a painful yelp. The world continued tremoring.
“There’s no way we can make it all the way back to Manaus with all this going on,” Trixie said, more to herself than anyone else. “We need to get outta here. Now!” She put her smartphone up to her mouth. “Call Mack!” she demanded.
After a few seconds, Mack came on the line. “Hey, Trixie, how’s the Amaz—”
“Mack, shut up and listen! We need airlifting outta here!”
“Woah woah woah, little lady. First of all where’s here?”
“We’re on the Madeira. This whole place is rumbling. There’s some kinda earthquake.”
“A quake? I can’t feel anything here.”
“Trust me, it’s going on here. This boat isn’t fast enough, we need to get outta here. Now!”
The boat then rocked viciously from side-to-side.
“Mack, I’m not kidding, come and find us!”
“All right, all right.”
“You got our signal?”
“Yeah, I gotcha! I’m on my way, but I’m not sure how I’m gonna get you outta there, there’s nowhere for me to land.”
“Improvise!” Trixie said then shut off the phone.
The river then rumbled, water gushing up onto the deck of the boat. “What are we going to do?” Alicia asked.
“Mack’s on his way,” Trixie told her. “We just gotta get away from the epicenter of this quake and we’ll be okay.”
Another rumble went off and they all fell back in opposite directions. Trixie growled in anger.
Then, an almighty crack split the air. Trixie grabbed her ears, the sound reverberating in her mind. At first she thought it was anothe
r tree, but this sound was much louder. She removed her hands from the sides of her head and looked around with wide eyes. There was a sudden pull on the boat from behind. She looked left and right in confusion; they were suddenly going backwards.
She jumped to the back of the boat. Her jaw dropped. In the distance the river had been split in half. The landscape on the horizon was sitting at an uneven angle, and the river was now flowing toward it at a rapid pace. “Oh my God,” she gasped. The land had cracked open and was now sucking in the river.
She spun her head around. “Hit the throttle full blast!” she shouted. Rafa did as instructed. The boat’s engine went into overdrive; it screeched under the pressure as it struggled to maintain its grip on the river. It slowed the pace at which they were reversing, but it wouldn’t hold out.
Trixie grabbed hold of the paddles on the deck. She gave one to Alicia. “Paddle!” she ordered, before she turned to the side and began paddling furiously at the side of the boat. Alicia did the same, gibbering prayers in Spanish. Rafa kept his arm flexed on the throttle, desperate not to let it go. The astringent stench of burning rubber and metal filled the air. The boat wouldn’t hold out under the pressure for much longer. Gravity was pulling one way and the engine was dragging it another. Something would eventually give.
The engine screeched in agony.
The girls paddled in an intense fury, but it wasn’t making much difference. The new pull of the current was too strong, too rapid. They were sucked into that split in the landscape like a kid sucking milkshake through a straw.
“Come on, paddle!” Trixie screamed at the top of her lungs. “PADDLE!”
Both Dom and Troy began paddling at the sides of the boat with their hands. But despite their combined efforts, they were still being pulled in toward that giant crack splitting the river.
Trixie’s arm then began to burn; she grabbed the paddle with the other and went at it again. But deep down, she knew it was fruitless; hopeless. Knew they were done for. She watched in horror as the current pulled them in toward that crack of death. Further. Further.
She grabbed her smartphone. “MACK!” she screamed. “WE NEED HELP! NOW!”
Mack was nowhere to be seen or heard. And now Trixie could see the river flowing down into the split in the earth like a waterfall.
A loud explosion just ahead of her made her start. The engine finally gave in. it exploded under the pressure with a smoky pop. Rafa sat there, watching it with despondent eyes as it wound down slow like a record player turned off during full flow. Trixie stared at it in horror; Rafa looked back at her and shrugged. Now with no pull, they were sucked effortlessly by the new current.
Trixie watched with unabridged horror as the waterfall in the giant crack descended upon them.
She gulped. “Hold onto your butts!” she shouted at them all, just as the boat slipped into the final stretch.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Vincent grabbed his tablet and established a webcam link to Europe, Bavaria to be precise. While he waited for the call to be answered, he looked around him. He was alone in his lab, alone in his mansion for the first time in what seemed like forever. No Trixie, Dom, Rufus or even Miranda around. It meant he could have the ensuing conversation in privacy.
He adjusted in his seat, just as a face flashed up on his screen. “Good evening, Slayer,” it said.
Vincent locked eyes with those now on his screen; they gleamed with a rare intelligence. “Benedict,” Vincent replied in a neutral voice.
Benedict’s visage stared out of the screen like a phantom; neat hair brushed back from his brow, pale skin, thin, ruby red lips, small dark eyes that glimmered and danced. His high cheekbones protruded from his slim face like crags of rock. Out of all the siblings, Benedict was indeed the least physically endowed; but what he lacked in physical prowess, he more than made up for in intelligence and cunning. And that made him the most astute, the most dangerous.
“Do you have news for me?” Benedict asked.
Vincent adjusted in his seat. “I do.”
Benedict then held up his hand, his index finger erect. It was the Finger of Moroz. Benedict had had his real finger amputated and his father’s finger stitched in its place. It was too big for his little hand, making it look like a pelican’s beak. He brought that finger up to his face. “What do you think, Father?” he asked it. The Finger began twitching. Benedict listened intently. “Ah, yes,” Benedict said once the Finger became still. Benedict then turned his attention back to Vincent. “Father tells me you’ve taken on a new apprentice, Slayer.”
Vincent nodded. “Yes. I have.”
Benedict leaned forward in his seat, his face becoming enveloped with shadows. A shiver trickled up Vincent’s spine.
Benedict pointed that oversized, mummified finger at Vincent through the screen. “How much does he know?” Benedict asked.
“As much as he needs to.”
Benedict grinned; even in the low light, his petit fangs gleamed like polished marble. “Good. He seems to be most capable.”
“Him and Trixie make an excellent team.”
“I’m sure they do, Slayer. And the relics?”
“I have the Eye and the Fangs.”
Benedict nodded. “Good. Good. Things are progressing positively in our favor.”
“The Great Unveiling is well and truly underway.”
“Indeed. It has been a long wait. But, finally our night will arrive and we can be free of hiding in the shadows. Ah, Slayer, I long to walk the earth without fear of being hunted, of being destroyed by that infernal ball of fire in the sky. Father will return and he will finally destroy the cursed light and bring sublime darkness to this world. And it will be me, me, who will be the heir to his Empire. I’m the rightful inheritor of this world, Slayer. My siblings are nothing in comparison, as you well know.” Even though his voice was little more than a squeak, his face was contorted with an intense hate and spite.
Vincent watched him with dispassionate eyes.
Benedict then appeared to calm. He sat back in his seat and placed a finger on his temple, his elbow propped on the armrest. “Now, Abraham, do my bidding. Go and slay the rest of my siblings and bring their relics to me.”
“As you wish...” Vincent said with a small bow of his head. “Master.”
THE CLAW ORDER: FANGHUNTERS BOOK FOUR - EXCERPT
CHAPTER ONE
July 9th 1957 – Baghdad
The midday sun burned in the sky like a giant, glowing eye as Faisal Malik scaled the side of the Al-Hurria Palace like a thief in the night. He’d successfully evaded the auspices of the daytime guards patrolling the outer grounds using stealth and trickery, just as Clement DeNoir had taught them all. DeNoir’s nearby excavation was nothing but a front. A cover story in order for the band of hunters to train and then get as close as possible to the palace and ultimately the beast dwelling within its confines. And now, after weeks of toiling in the desert, it was time to strike.
Faisal had snuck through the shadows as nimble as the cats the Claw Order worshipped and made it to the lair of the dark beast, Rah. Now, he was almost inside, where the second part of his mission would begin.
He crammed his fingers into the small slots between the stonework of the palace wall and took a glance down; the ground seemed a thousand meters away. A couple of day guards stood beneath him, blissfully unaware of his presence. High above him, the sun burned down on everything. Faisal took a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow before reaching up for the ledge above him. Clutching it with both hands, he hoisted himself up, careful not to release a sound, the muscles in his arms straining. He gritted his teeth as he applied more pressure, using his elbows as levers to winch himself up toward the open window.
Faisal had youth and strength on his side. He managed to pull his body up without making a sound. He flipped his legs over the window ledge and through into the room beyond. He made sure to land as light as possible, his sandals landing on the marble floor. Without hesitat
ion, he backed up against the wall of the corridor he found himself in, his eyes rolling left and right, his breathing ragged. From his robes, he unsheathed a small dagger, just in case any nearby guards had been alerted to his presence. He watched both ends of the corridor with paranoid eyes.
After a few moments of silence, he calmed, lowering his dagger. He was inside the palace, now he had to locate Rah. He surveyed his surroundings; the corridor ran into the near distance. From counting the floors as he scaled them, he was on the third, with no idea where the beast lay. The only open window led him up here, now he had to use his third eye to guide him to Rah’s lair, just as Clement had taught him. Let the third eye lead you, Clement always said. The tingle in your spine.
Clement always used victims of vampires as assassins just because they possessed the third eye. It made them dangerous to vampires. They feared the assassins, the ones who were once their victims. Faisal praised God for the third eye; it was his gift bestowed upon them to fight against the dark beasts. Faisal glanced to the ceiling and uttered the word ‘Mashallah,’ in praise of God almighty. He then thought of the beast as he lay in his darkened room. He’d be surrounded by gold, jewels, trinkets. False worship. A sacrilege to everything spoken about in the Holy texts; a reversal from all that is good and just. And it was Faisal’s duty unto God to slay the beast.
He closed his eyes and concentrated on his third eye. At that moment, it was silent. It meant he had to delve deeper into the confines of the palace. He began tiptoeing through the corridor, hugging the stone wall, his eyes ever alert, his breathing shallow, his dagger at the ready. As he moved, Faisal’s senses became acute. Especially his sense of hearing. Out of the group, he possessed the most sensitive hearing. The joke amongst them all was Faisal could hear a harem girl faking orgasm across the Sahara. And Faisal always maintained that was fact. His hearing was so good, he didn’t need eyes.
And just then, his ears pricked. He stopped and listened. Footfalls. Heading his way.
