The Chaos Order (Fanghunters Book Three) (4 page)

A grin spread across Dom’s face. A laugh bolted from his chest. “Wooh!” he shouted, pumping his fists on the air. “Way to go, Mack!” he yelled. But, just as he did, they hit more turbulence, sending him into a vibrating tizzy.

“We’re not out of this yet!” Mack grimly declared. A strong wind from above pushed the chopper down, sending them deep into the jungle of tall buildings ahead.

Dom jumped in his seat.
What the—?

He turned back to face Mack. “Go up! Go up!” he shouted at him.

“I can’t!” Mack responded. “The wind’s pushing us down!” He pulled on the collective as he spoke, trying to get more lift, the whole chopper shaking under the pressure. But that downwind didn’t want them to rise up to clear airspace. Instead they had to negotiate through the Loop, which was like trying to navigate an asteroid field.

Mack cranked the cyclic stick left and right, trying his best to avoid huge buildings, all the while that wind keeping them pushed down, the sheet of rain ahead obscuring his view. They rapidly advanced on a fat, squat office block. Mack aimed for the gap next to it, keeping his distance. The wind then decided to fling them toward it. The façade of the building dominated the view; dark and solid. Mack reacted on instinct. He threw the cyclic in the opposite direction. They swayed away at the last moment, the rotors cutting through the gust of wind, the helicopter rocking on the air. The skids clipped the corner of the building, making them all jump in their seats. The impact sent them reeling across the air, away from the building. Mack swung them back again. The wind then grabbed hold, rocking them like a baby in a cradle.

Dom’s jaw dropped like an anchor.

“Oh God, please don’t let us die, please don’t let us die!” he wailed as he stared out the windshield, his hands clawing down his cheeks.

Mack steadied them up, and Dom started to breathe again. “Okay, okay,” he told himself. “We’re okay now.”

An intense clap of thunder then cracked across the air and the chopper dropped downward as if weighing a ton. Dom’s eyes bulged. He screamed, now faced with a myriad of super tall buildings, all arranged in a disjointed sequence, making them haphazard. Mack began negotiating his way through them like a motocross driver avoiding trees on a race through a dense forest. Dom gulped. It was surreal, like a crazy video game. But, it was deadly real. One mistake and they were done.

In the far distance, he could make out the Chicago River; right next to it was a vast empty space, tiny buildings sprouting from the ground like shrubs way down below. That was where they needed to reach; first they had to negotiate this concrete jungle and crazy storm.

A massive gust of wind picked up. It whistled through the chopper, pushing them over to the right, straight into the path of another building. It advanced on them like the Grim Reaper.

“Look out!” Dom yelled.

Mack yanked the cyclic the opposite way.

Dom’s heart leaped up into his mouth.

The chopper swung away, missing the building by inches.

But they were swiftly in the path of another building.

Dom’s eyes popped. “There!” he yelped, pointing at the behemoth.

Mack slid back the way he came. The chopper cut across to the right. The building shot past the left-hand window. Dom watched it go in drunken bewilderment, his heart pounding.

“Hang tight!” Mack shouted. “We’re not outta this yet!” He grabbed another quick swig from his canteen.

Dom stared at him in disbelief. “Give me that!” Dom said, reaching over Mack’s shoulder and snatching the canteen from him. He took a big gulp. Cheap whisky burned down his throat and into his chest. “Ugh!” he groaned, wincing at the sourness. After a moment, he took another swig.

He stared out of the windshield once more. Coming into view were two ’scrapers erected directly opposite one another, a thin corridor of space between them. The wind was pushing the helicopter toward them, with no time to pull away.

“Get ready!” Mack shouted as the buildings drew near. “We’re gonna have to go in between!”

Dom whined to himself like a scared dog.
“Oh crap!”

The wind now swirled all around them as they approached; they swung on the air like a pendulum. Mack reacted to each swing, pushing the cyclic against it left and right, hoping to regain balance. “Come on, come on, baby!” he urged through gritted teeth.

The chopper swung away from the right
-
hand building and into the gap. Now they were between them and rocking dangerously on the air. The skids swung up, almost clipping the edge of the left-hand building. Their momentum rocked them away from it but straight over toward the opposite building. By then, they’d managed to zigzag halfway through that corridor of terror between the buildings, but the chopper was swinging viciously out of control. Eventually, the momentum would send them into one of the buildings with too much force and the helicopter would be smashed to pieces.

“Straighten up, Mack!” Dom shouted, the black and gray of building façades dominating his view.

“I’m trying
,
godammnit!” Mack shouted back. His hands were shaking under the pressure as he tried with all his might to get some semblance of control over the helicopter, the rain machine-gunning them from every angle. But, deep down Dom knew, and he knew Mack knew, that it was now all in the hands of higher powers.

Dom gulped. And prayed.

A gust of wind howled through the air, grabbing hold of the chopper. It sent them into a full spin, the world now whirling like a fairground ride.

Dom’s head twirled alongside it. “Woah!”

Mack let out a scream while yanking the cyclic in all directions. But, it was hopeless, he couldn’t regain control. The wind had them; it spun and pushed them through the air, the rain smashing against the windows. Dom watched on with unabridged horror; it was all flashes of gray and black obscured by rain. It was a helpless ride to oblivion.

Dom waved his fists on the air, terror ripping his mind to shreds. “Do something, Mack!” he screeched.

The wind then blew hard and they were propelled forward whilst still caught in a dizzying spin. Now, they were a turbo-charged carousel.

Dom’s stomach performed summersaults; any second and he’d empty it all over Mack.

A black building front then dominated the windshield. Dom threw a finger toward it. “Look out!”

Mack grappled with the cyclic like it was a rabid bear.

The building filled the windshield, before they abruptly swung back the other way, veering dangerously toward the opposite ’scraper. Dom grabbed hold of his hair, sitting backward in his seat on his knees as stiff as cardboard.

They continued on their spin to oblivion, somehow yet to explode into a fireball or crash down to the streets of Chicago. The wind then decided to pick up a final time, taking a last shot at them. It screeched through the helicopter, determined to send them to their doom. The force flung Dom from his seat; his back smashed into the thin corridor between his seat and those opposite where Vincent was sitting rigid and Trixie was still snoozing.

Dom groaned in pain, his limbs sprawling.
This is it, buddy,
he thought to himself as the chopper juddered and spun. He’d resigned himself to their fate.
It’s been good knowing you...

He closed his eyes and waited for the final crash.

The wind screamed louder. The chopper bumped; Dom’s heart kicked.

This is IT!

They spun in the opposite direction, and then came steady.

Huh?

Dom threw his eyes open. There was a big thrust from behind, forcing him onto his side. He stared at the metal and plastic ahead of him in confusion. They were being thrown forward. He jumped up to his feet, the wind still pushing them from the rear. He teetered, threatened to collapse, but held his ground. He threw himself onto his seat, and jabbed his head forward. The rain still smeared the windshield, but he could make out clear airspace straight ahead. His eyes rolled down to Mack. He was winning his battle with the controls. Either side of them, the buildings still stood tall. But, they’d almost cleared them.

Dom’s eyes widened in hope.

The wind then blew harder, shoving them through the air. The sudden movement sent Dom sprawling back again. He staggered and fell into Vincent’s lap. Vincent groaned under the pressure.

Dom propelled himself forward once more and stared out of the windshield in disbelief. The wind had pushed them through that deadly gap and out the other side. The world ahead of them was clear; no skyscrapers, no tall buildings. Below them were tiny residential houses, which were no threat to them at all.

They’d made it out of the Loop.

An abrupt laugh jumped out of Dom’s chest. In the next moment he was laughing uncontrollably, his fists clenched on the air. Joy and elation fizzed through his mind.

The crushing wind finally let them go, dying to a small zephyr. The chopper began to rise into the air once more. Dom stopped laughing and gave Mack a hearty pat on his shoulder. “You’re the man!” he shouted, handing him back his canteen.

Mack retook control of the cyclic and put a thumb in the air. “No problemo,” he retorted with an unsure puff of his cheeks. He then took another big gulp from his canteen. He got them moving again, nice and steady, the storm now beginning to abate, the rain petering down to a fine drizzle the further away from the Loop they traveled.

Dom clasped his hands together. “Yeeha!” he screamed as he flopped back down in his seat, an exhausted mess. Opposite him, Vincent gave him a wry grin, while rubbing Trixie’s shoulder.

Dom shook his head. “I thought we were done for!” he shouted above the sound of the rotors.

“Always have faith, my boy. Always!” Vincent shouted back, a calm expression sitting on his face as if the last five to ten minutes hadn’t actually happened.

“Easier said than done,” Dom mumbled to himself before wiping the remaining rain and sweat from his brow. He gazed out of the window, over the sprawl of Chicago; it was equally as spectacular as it was scary. He let out an irritated breath, wanting the helicopter ride to just end; he couldn’t wait to be touching ground once more. He slumped back in his seat, an emotional wreck. His eyes fell on Trixie. She was a wreck as well. He shook his head. What she must have been through didn’t bear thinking about; stuck in that damn building with Order vamps and Blacklake. He stared with lament at the bloody, ragged bandages covering her hands; his heart turned heavy.

Vincent then reached out and patted him on the knee. Dom flicked his eyes toward him. Vincent mouthed the words, “Thank you”. He gave Dom a warm smile.

“Anytime, Vincent,” Dom replied, sending him back a wan smile. “Anytime.”

The rain was now just a patter against the glass.

CHAPTER THREE

T
hey arrived back at the mansion in quick time, the storm at the Loop giving way to overcast skies across the surrounding area. Mack landed on the lawn in Vincent’s back yard, in the exact spot from where they took off. Relief washed over Dom as the skids finally touched the ground. He slumped in his seat, a frayed mess. At last his heart and stomach could have a chance to settle after the trauma of the previous night.

“Ah. Safe and sound,” Vincent said as cool as a cucumber, rubbing his hands.

Dom gave him an incredulous stare. The way the old-timer managed to remain calm throughout the helicopter journey from Hell was truly something to behold.

Vincent unbuckled himself from his seat with the enthusiasm of a child and slid the door open. “Grab Trixie will you, my boy,” he said as he stepped out onto the grass.

Dom nodded. He turned to face Mack. “Thanks again, buddy,” he said.

“Hey, no problemo, pal,” Mack retorted before he fell back in his seat and had another swig of his canteen. “Just like old times.”

“I’ll bet,” Dom said with a chuckle as he relieved himself of his belt and took the seat next to Trixie. She was still mumbling something in her sleep, her face contorted in a frown. Dom sighed and ran a soft hand across her forehead.

“You did well back there,” he told her.
“For a chick.”

A brief smile flittered across her features.

Dom undid her belt and then placed his arms under the backs of her knees and across her shoulder blades. “Now don’t get any ideas,” he said to her as he heaved her across the seat. “Just cause you saved us, don’t mean I’m gonna be carrying you around forever.”

He backed up until his feet finally touched grass. The sensation was odd after the turbulence and spinning. He grabbed a second to steady himself and hauled Trixie out of the chopper, throwing her over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. She let out a small groan before she flopped down, her arms dangling toward the ground.

Miranda Wolff then came rushing out of the smashed patio windows; her jaw was agape, her eyes wide. Her expression was somewhere between disbelief and happiness. “You all made it!” she exclaimed in a voice that reflected her expression to a tee.

“Yeah, it was a stroll in the park, Miranda,” Dom nonchalantly retorted as he strode past her toward the mansion.