Cody Rexell and the Cannibal Death Camp: Cody Rexell, #2

By Michael Bray

Cody Rexell is back, and still doesn't give a F*ck! 

 

His adventures this time take him to the heat of the Mexican jungle. Barely escaping with his life from a remote village of bloodthirsty cannibals, Rexel is determined to go back and retrieve an item of great importance that was taken from him.

 
When a face from the past betrays Rexell and threatens to send him back to the government who are still searching for him, he reluctantly agrees to help with a covert mission to locate a drug baron who has gone missing in the jungle. As the group embark on what should be a routine mission, events unfold that puts the lives of everyone at risk and forces Rexell to revert to his uniquely violent methods to ensure those under his supervision survive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Bray
• Release date: Jan 2, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386237136

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

YUCATAN JUNGLE,

MEXICO.

JULY 7th 1963

––––––––

The intense heat didn't deter him as he moved through the undergrowth. He knew to be quiet, inching towards the sounds of screaming from the jungle ahead. He heard a sound and ducked low in the foliage, senses strained as he stared at the tree root ahead. A yellow bodied snake slid across his path. Knowing that attacking would draw attention, he waited until it went on its way then moved on, creeping to the edge of the clearing.

The clearing was dominated by a large fire which was spitting and crackling. Around the edge, tied to poles were a six people who were bound and gagged. Cody Rexell lifted his head, squinting past the flames, his lip and nose bloody. He looked at the other captives and wondered how he had got himself caught up in such a mess. One of the natives approached. He was lithe and streaked with white paint, a helm made from the upper skull of a tiger. He looked at them in turn. The overweight Mexican man first, then the two women and finally Rexell, the only one who would make eye contact with him. ‘Any chance of some water, chief?’ He said, forcing himself to smile.

The native spoke in his own language, the words quick and impossible to understand. He finished by spitting in Rexell's face.

‘Got it. How about a beer instead?’

The villager took a long bone handle knife from his belt and showed it to Rexell, his eyes filled with rage.

‘Come on, you're not even going to buy me a drink first?’ Rexell said, trying his best to bluff and hoping he wasn't about to be stabbed.

The native reared back ready to strike when there was a sound from the edge of the clearing. Rexell and the villager looked towards it. There was no movement or sign of disturbance. The villager crept towards the edge, knife swaying in front of him as he stared into the dense jungle. Rexell looked behind him, curious about what was happing. As the elder watched, a yellow bodied snake slithered out of the undergrowth towards the villagers’ feet. The villager stabbed it in the back with his knife and held it up to show Rexell, then bit off its head and spitting it onto the ground. They locked eyes, the villager confused as to why Rexell was smiling. It was then that the jungle exploded behind him, the villager knocked to the ground by Magnum as a rain of leaves fell around them. The Alsatian snapped at the man, biting his face and neck, tearing a huge section of his throat away. Hot blood jetted out of the man's neck and soaked into the dirt, leaving him there twitching and gargling.

Rexell looked towards the huts up the hill and could hear more people heading their way. ‘Mag, get the ropes,’ Rexell shouted. The Alsatian padded over and began to chew through the ropes binding Rexell’s hands.

‘Come on, dog, hurry,’ Rexell said. The other prisoners were watching him now. The Mexican man and the two women, their faces for the first time showing hope that they might yet survive. Rexell could see the other villagers gathering weapons and heading towards him.

‘Dammit, Mag, stop drooling on me and bite through these ropes,’

Magnum responded by doubling his efforts, growling and shaking his head as he gnawed through the rope knots.

‘What about us? Will you free us?’ One of the women said, her face covered in dry blood, her leg purple where it had been broken. He didn't answer, deciding it was better to say nothing than tell the woman there was no hope for her and that he wouldn't be able to carry her to safety.

‘What about me, pal?’ The Mexican man said. His balding head glistened with sweat but his dark eyes were aware. A patchy black beard peppered his flabby cheeks. ‘They might be done for but I have a chance. You help me, I can help you.’

Rexell noticed for the first time the man’s clothes and how inappropriate for the sweltering heat they were. It was a crème suit and looked expensive, even though it was now smeared with dirt and blood. The seam at one shoulder had come loose, exposing little puffs of material. Magnum pulled at the rope and snapped it away, freeing Rexell’s wrists. The villagers were close now, charging after him with knives and spears in hand. Rexell wasted no time. He ran to the dead native and grabbed his knife, turning and throwing the blade at the nearest approaching villager, the blade embedding in his chest and knocking him off his feet.

Hey, come on, help me get loose. The Mexican man said.

Rexell looked at him, then at the villagers who had blowpipes. He knew the darts they used were coated in a toxin made from snake venom which would knock him out at best, kill him at worst if too many were to hit him, as he had seen the villagers preparing the spears and darts prior to going hunting. There was