The Chaos Order (Fanghunters Book Three) (29 page)

“Hmph!” came Dom’s tetchy reply. “Well, that sounds like it would be a nightmare for me too!”

“Gawd, why did you let me drink so much?”

Dom’s jaw dropped. “Me? You were the one frolicking with Rafa and his bottle of tequila, while I, the studious one, was getting to work.”

“Rafa? Well, he’s kinda cute and all in a tough mariachi kinda way. But, he’s not my type.”

“Whatever,” Dom said in a huff and turned his attention back to his work.

Trixie squinted her eyes. “What are you doing?”

Dom’s back straightened. “Well, while you’ve been getting drunk and sleeping it off, I’ve been studying all this,” he spread his hands out to the sides, indicating all the books and papers strewn around him like he was a nerd swatting up before exams.

“And, what have you found out?”

“You want the whole story?”

“Shoot.”

“Well, during the days of the Conquistadors, a sect of hedonistic monks came over, pretending to be missionaries for the Catholic Church. They thought it was gonna be all ayahuasca and exotic Mayan ladies. But, what they got was Magdalena. From what your dad told us about the children of Moroz being sent out around the world as children, looks to me like Magdalena was left in the care of these monks. They became the Unholy Brotherhood, la Hermandad Impía, and they worship Magdalena to this day. At some point, the Brotherhood split into the Inner Circle, who created and control the drug cartels. You with me so far?”

“Yeah,” Trixie said in a bored voice.

“Good. Now, by all accounts, Magdalena’s venom was too strong for them. It was driving them crazy, some of them never returning to normality. She then went nuts herself. Bloodthirsty. Sacrificing members of the Brotherhood, making them do crazy things like kill each other for her own pleasure. In the end, the monks decided it would be best to banish her; she was becoming too powerful. So, they locked her away in an unused Mayan temple; the Temple of Snakes. A place where the Mayans kept their treasure hidden from looters. A place full of traps. That way, she couldn’t escape, and no one could let her out. And apparently, she’s still there. Initiates chosen by the Inner Circle have to go on the pilgrimage of the Unholy Mother where they are ‘kissed’ by her, ‘given her blessings’ and then become vamp. But, even they don’t get to know where the temple is. They must blindfold them or something... Only the members of the Brotherhood know the location of the temple. And of course, it’s a secret whose revelation is punishable by death. Now, unless we find these monks and get the info outta them, we’re stuck. There’s no way we can scour two whole continents by ourselves looking for this temple.”

Trixie grabbed her head. “Man, my head hurts.”

Dom threw his smartphone down. “Trixie! Are you even listening to what I’m saying?”

She held up her hand. “Yeah, yeah, I’m listening. I’m just finding it hard to hear you above this migraine.”

Dom sighed. “Maybe you shouldn’t drink so much.”

“Bite me, Dom. It was the first drink I’ve had in years. And trust me, it’s the last I’ll ever have again.”

“The hollow promise of every party animal,” Dom muttered under his breath.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. Wait there. I’ll go and see if they’ve got any hangover pills.”

“That’ll be great.” She collapsed back on her bedding.

Dom chuckled to himself. Seeing Trixie with a hangover was something he never thought he’d witness, what with her body being a temple and all that jazz. He strode off toward Alicia’s house, the sound of the grasshoppers chirping around him filling the night air.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

T
hey cuffed Troy again and dragged him back out of the temple. He was still shook up from what happened back there; he’d never experienced anything like it, and he was pretty damn experienced in the strange and weird side of life.
But cutting off heads execution style and throwing them on bonfires in the name of something called the Unholy Mother?
Man, these freaks were beyond the frickin’ pale.

They pushed him down the pyramid steps leading out and he almost stumbled. “Hey, that’s no way to treat a god!” he said, managing to remain upright.

At the foot of the pyramid, the trunk of the car awaited; that hot, confined space of darkness. Two monks stood next to the open trunk, the mean-faced one holding a black hood, ready for Troy’s head.

Troy made it down the steps and was immediately pushed over toward the trunk. The mean-faced monk stepped forward to place the bag over his head.

“Hey! Wait!” Troy snapped at him. “I need to pee. Let me go!”

The monk ignored his order either through a language barrier or stubbornness. He lifted the hood over Troy’s head.

Troy whipped his head back, dodging it. “Hey!” he exclaimed once more. “Listen here! I’m el Sanguinario, now if you don’t do what I say I swear I’m gonna crap thunder and piss lightning all over this whole damn area. Don’t believe me, just give me a try.” He gave the monk an intense stare. “Now, take these goddamned cuffs off for just a second so I can go drain the hose.”

The two monks near him glanced at one another. They went into a brief conference. Troy watched them intently. After a bit of to and fro, they turned to face him. “No!” one of them said with a firm shake of the head.

Troy’s mouth scrunched up of its own accord. He glowered at them both. He watched them gulp in response. Just then, right on cue, an abrupt clap of thunder rocked the atmosphere. Troy’s eyes widened. A bolt of lightning crackled across the night sky, followed by another rumble of thunder.

The monks glanced at one another with wide, concerned eyes. They then meekly tuned their heads toward the sky.

“Huh?” Troy uttered, rolling his head upward alongside them. A droplet of rain fell into his eye. “Ouch!” he said, blinking it out. In the next instant, the rain began pelting down hard as if God had turned on a faucet. Thunder boomed around them, lightning illuminating the scene. The monks grabbed their heads and began speaking in raised panicky voices. They stared at Troy in trepidation, pointing his way.

Troy seized the one in a million opportunity. He glared at them through the rain. “You see?” he said, water dribbling down his chin. “I’m crapping thunder and pissing lightning! Now, you really don’t wanna see what I’ll do next!”

The monks gave one another grave glances before they turned and ordered the gorillas to remove the cuffs.

Troy’s wrists were finally released. “Good disciples,” he told them. “The Unholy Mother will reward you with blessings and...
blood
.” He winced as the image of that girl’s severed head bombarded his mind. He shook it away. He then pointed to the temple. “I’m gonna go around the back there. Okay? Alone. Anyone follow me and I’ll crap out a tsunami!” He slammed a fist into his palm, rain splashing out everywhere. The monks recoiled in shock. Troy pointed at them both, keeping a beady eye on them as he began backing off. He reached the edge of the temple unhindered, still pointing at them. He licked his lips, then turned and scampered around the side of the pyramid. About halfway along, he pressed himself up against the temple wall and breathed deep in relief.
Man, those guys are intense. I gotta get away from them.

He looked around. The mountain they were on was surrounded by forest. The only real escape route was the road they’d come by, which was at the front of the temple, where the mad monks were waiting for him.
Just my luck
,
he lamented.

He studied the dark thicket of tress leading down the mountain. He shook his head. There was no way he could navigate through all that without dying, being eaten by something, or getting lost and then the sun rising and killing him. Besides, even if he did make it down the mountain unscathed, he had no idea where he was and he’d have to find shelter from the sun which wasn’t guaranteed.

“Shit!” he spat in anger, the rain pounding on his head, his brain working overtime. He had to get away from these guys. An idea hit him; his only choice. He edged his way along the side of the temple. He found a small alcove and moved inside it to get out of the rain. He then looked both ways. The coast was clear. He grabbed the smartphone Trixie gave him and dialed her number.

He hoped he could get good reception from where he was.

The line began ringing. And it continued ringing.

“Come on, come on,” he urged.

Then finally,
“Yeah?”
came a crackled, slightly broken answer.

“Trixie! Trixie!” he stammered in a panicky voice.

“Troy,”
Trixie replied.
“How’s—”

“Shut up and listen!” Troy interjected. “You gotta save me! I’ve been kidnapped by a bunch of freaks. Monks. They think I’m some kind of god.”

“Having a good time in Tijuana are we?”

“I’m not joking
and
I’m not high. This is real! They call me el Sanguinario, the Bloodthirsty One. They think I’m some kind of god who has to be united with the Unholy Mother, Magdalena. They’re taking me on some kind of pilgrimage to meet her.”

“What! Where are you?”

“On top of a mountain somewhere.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know! You gotta do something. These guys are crazy. They cut people’s heads off for Chrissakes!”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

“I’m not playing, Trixie. They cut this girl’s head off and made me throw it on a fire.”

“Ew!”

“Exactly. Ew! I hate to think what they’ll do next.” Troy briefly turned to the side to spot a monk peeking around the corner. Troy jabbed a finger his way. “Hey! I can’t go if you’re watching!”

The monk got the message and pulled back.

“And stay there!” Troy shouted after him.
“Asshole,”
he said to himself before putting the phone up to his ear once more. “Help me, Trixie!” he begged.

“Go along with it!”
Trixie ordered.

“What? Trixie, that’s not what I wanted to hear!”

“Go along with it, Troy!”
Trixie reasserted.
“They’ll hopefully lead us right to Magdalena.”

Troy grabbed his head. “Oh crap.”

“Just don’t lose this phone. Okay? You got that? Do not lose this phone!”

He huffed. “Okay, okay.”

“I mean it, Troy. Do not lose it.”

“I got you!” he replied in a tetchy tone.

“Just hang tight, and we’ll tail you wherever they take you. Now get off the line so I can start tracking you.”

The phone then cut out.

“Trixie? Trixie?” Troy urged.

She didn’t answer. The line was dead.

“Shit!” Troy scowled. He huffed.
“Don’t lose the phone, Troy
,
”
he said, mocking Trixie’s voice. He glanced both ways, then stuffed the phone down into his briefs. He checked his chinos from the outside. It was nicely concealed and more importantly, safe. “Hopefully Trixie will call back,” he said, patting his crotch. “I’ve got it on vibrate.”

He took a deep breath, slicked his hair down, and headed back into the rain. He marched along the side of the temple and out to the front where they were all waiting for him. Watching the old geezers getting soaked by the rain was most satisfying.

Bastards
,
Troy thought to himself as he approached them.

He pretended to zip up his chinos. “Ah, that’s better,” he said to them with a relieved grin, just as the rain began to slow to a drizzle. “You can put the cuffs back on now.” He held up his wrists. “Not too tight, I’m not gonna make a break for it.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

T
rixie pulled her phone away from her ear. “That was Troy,” she said to the phone, but directing her words at Dom.

“Where is he?”

“He doesn’t know. At a temple.”

“Temple?”

“Yeah. He’s been kidnapped by a bunch of monks.”

“Monks? The Unholy Brotherhood?”

“That’d be my guess. He says they think he’s bloodthirsty or something.”

“Bloodthirsty? But, Troy doesn’t drink blood.”

“Go figure.” Trixie began swiping and clicking.

“What are you doing?” Dom asked her.

“Remember that phone I gave Troy?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s more a surveillance device than a phone. Dad has them made specially. Military grade; you can get a signal on the damn moon. Batteries last for days and the suckers are waterproof. After what happened at the movie theater, I thought it would be best to keep tabs on Troy wherever he went. It’s turned out to be useful in more ways than one.”

“You mean you can track Troy wherever he goes?”

“Wherever the phone goes.”

“So where is he?”