The Chaos Order (Fanghunters Book Three) (30 page)

She paused. Then, “Hermosillo.”

“Where’s that?”

“Still in Mexico. We need to go see that temple; it could give us clues as to where Magdalena is.”

Dom nodded. “Yeah. Come on, let’s go tell Alicia and see if we can get a ride there.”

A
half-sober Rafa insisted on taking them to Hermosillo. Dom prayed the cops didn’t pull them. Trixie advised them both to bring along their passports as well as a change of clothes, she had a feeling they’d be on the road for a while. Dom agreed. It looked like old Troy had managed to get himself on this pilgrimage of the Unholy Mother, and although that meant good news for them in their mission, it also meant a whole lotta hauling ass.

The tequila hadn’t done too much damage to Rafa’s driving ability; he managed to remain in the center of his lane as they drove through Mexico. Trixie was guiding them with her special issue smartphone, the location Troy had called her from saved. He was on the move again, heading further south. They’d catch up with him later.

Eventually, they reached Hermosillo. Night was drawing to a close by the time they drove up the mountain where the temple was located. Rafa pulled up outside the fencing surrounding the area. He hit the steering wheel in frustration.

“What’s up?” Dom asked him.

“Private property,
amigo
,” Rafa told him, pointing at a sign on the side of the dirt track.

“That’s never stopped us before,” said Trixie as she threw her door open, releasing the sound of more grasshoppers. She stepped up to the fence and looked up and around. Dom joined her. She turned to face him and shrugged. Without saying a word, she leaped up and over the fence as nimble as a cat.

She turned back. “See? No problem. Let’s go.” She scampered away and hid behind a tree.

Dom glanced at Alicia. “Ladies first,” he said, giving her a hand up. While she cleared the fence, Rafa grabbed a flashlight from the trunk. He had a quick glance both ways before jumping over the fence, the whole thing trembling under his weight. He flicked on his flash, lighting up the area. The dirt track led up further into trees and bushes.

“Think anyone patrols here?” Dom asked.

Rafa shrugged. “We’ll find out.”

So far, there was no one around. Maybe the sign and fence were just for show.

Rafa led the way, lighting up the dirt track for them. They jogged up the path, their heads darting left and right, just in case there were any guards. The bushes rustled now and then; animals racing for cover from the intruders. Dom felt like a teenager breaking into the zoo at midnight for kicks. His heart picked up pace, adrenaline flowing through him, the heat and humidity cloying. What exactly were they heading toward? What did this temple look like?

And then he found out.

The trees and bushes thinned, the temple coming into view at the end of the dirt track. It was a stone pyramid, steps leading up to a doorway in its center. Dotted at its base were flaming torches, illuminating it.

Dom gazed upon it in awe. “Woah.”

“This must be the place,” Trixie said.

“You think?”

They all stood in a line for a few seconds, gazing up at the monument in wonder.

“How did they build this thing?” Rafa asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Aliens,” Dom replied, his voice laced with irony.

“No aliens,
amigo
,” Rafa said, unable to detect the irony. “Our ancestors were smart people.”

“Maybe too smart,” Trixie said as she walked past them to the steps. She went up the first, then turned to face them. “You guys coming?”

Dom set off after her. The moment he placed a tentative foot down on one of the steps, intrigue jolted him. He was entering history itself. Chicago was a million miles away; this was another world. He led Alicia and Rafa up the steps, the moon bathing them all with its cold glow. Dom made it up to the entrance, his wide eyes taking in everything. He poked his head inside. The inner chamber, lit up by more torches, came into view; a stone room with a giant slab in the center of it. Splattered across it were ominous red stains. He eyed them with trepidation.

Trixie was already in the chamber, turning in circles, taking everything in. Dom went and joined her, descending the steps slow, his jaw hanging, his eyes darting left and right in caution as if someone or something was going to jump out of the gloomy, moss-covered stones surrounding him. As he delved into the temple, his mind swam with the awe of history and human ingenuity. Human hands built this colossal pyramid with primitive tools and it had survived till this day, whereas newer homes in Chicago’s South Side were already crumbling, succumbing to the forces of nature.

But contradicting the awe was something else. His sneakers touched the floor of the chamber and he stopped. A shiver coursed through him; the place had a bad vibe, like bad things had happened inside that temple. Dark things that still lingered in some form of energy that infested the place like ghosts in a haunted house. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear the echoes of screams, could smell the metallic tang of blood, could taste the musk of death on the air, air that held a similar quality to that of a vampire nest. His eyes fell upon the stone slab and those drying bloodstains splattered across it. They looked fresh.

“Troy said...” Trixie began, staring at the slab. She swallowed. “They cut people’s heads off.”

Dom shivered. He tore his eyes from the slab, laying them on the fire pit over in the corner; inside were the residues of a fire. In amongst the gray ashes was a bone-white globe. He squinted his eyes, craning his neck forward to get a better look.

Is that a…?

He recoiled, showing the fire pit his palm.
Man, I don’t even wanna know.

Alicia stepped up close to the slab, her crucifix gripped in her hand, her eyes brimming with apprehension. Rafa was busy gazing left and right in wonderment.

Trixie took a deep steadying breath and began pacing around, studying the paintings on the walls. She came to a stop ahead of the left-hand wall. She frowned and pushed her head in closer. “Hey, that guy looks a bit like Troy,” she stated, pointing at the thing painted there.

Dom went over and glared at it in bemusement. “Looks nothing like Troy. It’s not ugly enough.”

“Troy said they think he’s some kind of god.”

Dom gave her a sideways look. “Pff! He’s tripping!”

“I bet that’s who they think Troy is,” Trixie insisted.

“Ha! Get real.” Dom glanced back at the guy on the wall. He was a weirdo holding severed heads in each hand. His eyes were that weird swirly type these Mayans seemed to love. His chest was covered in flowers and more swirls. Dom frowned; all of a sudden, in his mind’s eye he couldn’t help but see Troy in his Hawaiian shirt. Dom’s mouth became an O as his eyes fell on the white legs of the guy on the wall. Troy’s bright white chinos then entered his mind. Dom’s face contorted. “No way!” he said to himself. He glanced at the image standing next to the Troy guy.

“Magdalena,” Alicia said, coming up next to him and pointing at the depiction Dom was staring at. She kissed her crucifix afterward and crossed herself. “This place stinks of evil,” she said and shivered.

“What was it originally? Incan? Aztec?” Trixie asked.

“Aztec or Mayan,” Alicia replied. “I don’t know, my father would’ve known, he was the expert. But I’m sure it was intended for sun worship. At some point it became a place of vampire worship.”

“You think they went from worshipping the sun to worshipping Magdalena?” asked Dom.

Alicia shrugged. “The indigenous people had their culture torn apart by the Conquistadors. It looks to me like this Unholy Brotherhood took this temple for their own purposes.”

“So what did they bring Troy here for?”

Alicia shrugged. “A ceremony? Initiation, who knows?”

“Initiation?” Dom echoed. “You mean they’re trying to recruit him?”

“Well, if they think that guy on the wall is him, then it stands to reason they’ll want him on their side and not against him,” Trixie suggested, before turning away to check the other paintings.

“That makes sense,” Dom said in contemplation. “But, there’s no way that’s Troy.”

Trixie grabbed her smartphone from her pocket and began taking snaps of the other images on the walls.

Dom looked over. “What are you doing?”

“I got a hunch these might come in useful,” she replied, checking the clarity of the photos.

Dom looked up at the paintings. One was of a tic-tac-toe type grid, with different faces in each square. Some had been crossed over. “What am I looking at?” he asked Trixie.

Trixie shook her head. “I don’t know. But there has to be a good reason for coming here before facing Magdalena.” She nodded her head to the side.

Dom looked over; he found himself staring at a painting of a half-naked Mayan guy glaring in trepidation at what looked like three levers. The one on the left had been pulled down, the other two were up. Behind the guy were scary, twisted faces, their mouths and eyes round, black holes. Between them and the guy was a shower of black lines heading his way like a plague of locusts.

Dom’s brow furrowed. “What is it supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” Trixie replied, her eyes wide. She took a snap of the painting. “But, we might find out.”

Dom craned his neck around. He came face-to-face with another painting of Magdalena. He shivered.

Trixie took more snaps, then checked them. “Okay,” she then said. “I think we’ve seen enough here.”

“Agreed,” Alicia said, before heading straight for the steps.

“What now?” Dom asked Trixie.

Trixie sighed. “Now, we wait to see wherever it is they take Troy next.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

A
nother long ass drive in the dark trunk of a car. He wondered where they were taking him this time. Niagara Falls? How about a trip up to Alaska? Yeah, he’d like to watch those old freaks shiver in the ice and snow.

They went over some bumps and he smashed his head on the side. He groaned in pain. “Assholes! Watch where you’re going!” he shouted at the darkness. The car continued on its journey regardless. Where the hell were they going anyhow? The goddamned moon?

He huffed.
“Just go along with it, Troy,”
he said to himself, mocking Trixie again. “Why don’t
you
go along with it?” he responded in an angry voice. “Why am I the one stuck in the trunk?”

You should’ve got away from her when you had the chance,
he told himself.
Never go back, Troy. Never.

“Yeah, well, I kinda felt sorry for her,” he mumbled to himself beneath his hood. “The small bit of my conscience that still exists inside this corrupted brain of mine. That little bit of humanity the venom couldn’t take away. Sometimes it’s my own worst enemy.”

He stopped and looked around the darkness. “Christ, am I talking to myself? I’m going frickin’ crazy here!” He began squirming hard, anger engulfing him. “Hey! I’m going crazy in this goddamn trunk!” he shouted. “Let me out! Hey! Let me out!”

The car then came to an abrupt stop.

The momentum sent Troy rolling on his side. He went quiet.

The lid of the trunk popped open.

“About time!” said Troy.

Rough hands immediately grabbed his limbs and dragged him up and out of the trunk. He smashed his chin on the rim of the trunk on his way out. “Careful, asshole!” he sneered. Once out, they took the bag off his head. Troy looked around. They were at some kind of private airfield. Choppers with blacked out windows were lined up, ready and waiting. Troy gazed at them all in confusion.
An air show?

Then, the chanting began to fill the air. It resonated in the black sky as the monks drew toward him like flies to fire. They encircled him before dropping to their knees and bowing profusely. Troy watched them with eyes that were mellowing from anger to calm. He gave them all a rueful smile as they bowed down to him like he was their king. A sudden power rush shot up into his chest.