Alex Van Helsing

by Jason Henderson

  “A guard?”

  “No.”

  Two inches from Alex’s face was a cage. It hung right in front of him, a swinging birdcage about six feet tall, suspended from the ceiling. A leering, mummified skull lay at eye level with him on the floor of the cage, crumpled with the bones. The skeleton wore green and tattered clothing.

  “Easy,” Sangster whispered.

  “What the…?” Alex slowly edged around the cage, moving to the center of the drive. He took in the crumpled form—it wore, he wore heavy boots, baggy pants, and a canvas belt.

  “It’s a skeleton, or nearly a skeleton, in a hanging cage,” he said. “It’s dressed like someone from a World War Two movie.” He crouched a bit to see the breast of the skeleton, and read its name aloud. “Bates. Why is this here?”

  “It’s probably a warning,” Sangster said. “Don’t get distracted, just keep moving.”

  Breathe. Keep moving. Alex began to edge past the skeleton.

  And then it woke up.

  A rattling hiss erupted from the thin, mummified lips as the dead, dry eyes within the skull focused on him. A bony arm shot out of the cage as Alex passed, grabbing his jacket.

  “Yahh!” Alex tried to twist away, and the bony hand gripped harder—its fingers were partially in his pocket. “It’s alive, it’s got me!”

  Time froze for a second as Alex felt himself being tugged toward the cage, the nearly clean skull gnashing its teeth at him. The skull was beginning to moan. Wait. Wait. He had the Polibow in his hands.

  “Bash it,” said Sangster evenly, only the slightest hint of whatever concern he must be feeling. “Get free.”

  Alex swung the Polibow down against the thing’s wrist and felt it crack and fall away, clattering back against the cage. He panted and stepped back farther down the corridor, staring as the skeleton kept pawing futilely at him from within his cage.

  “I’m free,” he said.

  The skeleton was still moaning.

  “That’s a zombie moan,” Sangster said insistently.

  “I know! It’s a freaking zombie skeleton in a freaking—”

  “It’s going to call others.”

  “What?”

  “Turn around,” said Sangster.

  Slowly Alex turned, as the sound of unearthly, guttural moaning began to pour from the dark tunnel beyond.

  Through his infrared glasses he could see the forms begin to shamble away from coffers in the wall—shuffling corpses, slowly moving toward him. Zombies.

  “Oh my God,” Alex said.

  “How many are there?”

  “I see six,” Alex said.

  “They’ll be slow and stupid,” Sangster said rapidly. “Try to move past them. Don’t let them grab you. If you have to kill one, a head shot is your only choice.”

  The zombies moved slowly, forming a helter-skelter line across the tunnel. “I don’t see a space to get through.”

  Sangster paused for a second. “Pick the tallest one, bend low, run fast, and hit him below the knees. Keep running.”

  Alex nodded even though Sangster couldn’t see him. The zombies coming toward him were four males and two females, some in civilian clothing. One was wearing a kilt.

  A soldier zombie in the middle was tallest, still wearing its World War II helmet, its skeletal head tilted sideways. Alex bent low and ran.

  The dull stench of old decay hit his nose as Alex’s shoulder struck the zombie at the knees. The two zombies on either side saw him coming, staring mindlessly and pawing at him as their fellow tumbled over. Alex rolled past and then started to scramble up, but his foot slipped on the slick stone of the tunnel. He sprawled out.

  The zombie he had plowed under was still lying face-down, confused, but the ones on either side were tracking Alex. When he slipped, his foot came close to one of them and a long, bony arm grabbed his ankle. The zombie, a man in a parka, opened its mouth and moaned.

  Alex tried to rise but the zombie began to drag him. Alex raised the Polibow, aiming for the head. He fired a bolt and hit the zombie in the shoulder. It staggered, still pulling. Alex was sliding on his back. He fired again, catching the zombie in the head this time, and it fell back, dead. Another lunged and this time Alex was ready, bringing the Polibow up and close to the zombie’s forehead, firing.

  Alex got up. The others were still coming; the one he had tripped had managed to flip over and get up. Alex began to run, and felt a crunch beneath his feet as he went. He kept running as the moans persisted.

  Think. They’re coming steadily. If he wanted to sneak into the school and rescue his friends, he had to deal with them or they’d follow him the whole way. Other creatures, smarter creatures, could hear them at any second.

  Alex stopped as the four remaining zombies came toward him. He looked at the Polibow. He had five shots left.

  He picked a zombie, ran toward it, and pumped a bolt into its head before the others could grab him. He turned around and took out the second.

  The third, slow moving but insistent, grabbed him by the jacket. Alex took the zombie by the wrist and spun it against the wall. He raised the Polibow and fired, dropping the zombie.

  One more, but it was close—it was on him, jaws snapping and moaning. Alex fired, missing, the bolt zinging into the distance. One left. Then he would have to reload, and that would mean opening the pack. Make it count. The zombie came close, mouth open wide. Alex put the Polibow between its teeth and drove a bolt up into its brain.

  He stepped back. He was alone.

  Very alone. He had dropped, and crushed, the Bluetooth.

  CHAPTER 18

  In for a dime, in for a dollar. There was no going back. The tunnel stretched another quarter mile before turning a corner. After that, Alex took off the infrared glasses, because he could make out a glow of light in the distance.

  When he reached the end of the tunnel and crouched at the entrance of a vast expanse beyond, Alex let out a low, barely audible whistle.

  This was the Scholomance.

  Look at the size of that thing. He had never seen a cave this huge in his life, even compared with the Polidorium headquarters. It stretched seemingly for miles, the shimmering white mesh moving all along the interior, keeping it from collapsing. His sensation of danger was immense and everywhere, a dull static in the back of his mind.

  Alex surveyed what he could make out.

  Before him lay a column of vehicles partially obscuring his view of what must be the main entrance of the school, but also giving him some cover. About two football-field lengths from his position lay a main gate, wide enough for cars. It was tall, iron, and marked with a large S. Starting at the gate was a stone wall, going into the distance on either side.

  Past the vehicles and past the gate, Alex saw a courtyard and a turreted castle beyond. Around and behind the castle lay several large buildings of modern design, black marble and glass, looking very much like modern university structures.

  Let’s go, Alex thought. He scurried forward and to the side, crouching next to an armored personnel carrier. This was one of the vehicles he had seen coming in the night Icemaker had arrived. What next? He would need to get through the gate or over the wall. Beyond that, what? He was a human in jeans and a light jacket. He would need to find some way to pass.

  Next to the cold metal of the personnel carrier, Alex surveyed for guards. No one stood between him and the wall. He took a breath, rose, and sprinted the distance, not stopping until he laid his hands on the stone of the wall itself.

  The wall was twelve feet high, more than twice his height. Alex studied it. For a moment he considered running to the gate and shimmying up between the gate and the wall, but it was too risky. He would be exposed the whole time.

  Then Alex remembered the go package. He slipped off the pack, crouching low next to the wall, and pulled out the grappling gun. While I’m at it… He put a fresh cartridge in the Polibow and closed the pack.

  He stepped back, aiming the grappling gun in the air,
and fired. A quiet shoomp sound sent a silver hook and braided climbing line high and over the wall. Alex pulled until he heard it clank softly on the other side. He waited till it had found purchase on the lip of the wall and then tugged.

  Within moments Alex climbed up and lay flat on the top of the wall. It was rough-hewn but not razor sharp. He found he could press his face against it without too much discomfort, and he froze there, watching. Then he gingerly, quickly drew in the line, bundled it up, and slipped it back in the pack as he surveyed the scene.

  The grass was white, he realized with astonishment. Where on a normal campus there would be manicured green lawns, here the grass was bone white and nearly blinding, thick and neatly trimmed. The “sky,” which was the distant rock ceiling of the cavern, only contributed to the bizarre nature of the landscape.

  Then he saw guards milling around near the gate. He ducked his head, feeling adrenaline flood through his chest. He would have been right next to them if he had chosen that path.

  They were dressed all in white, like the girl he had faced in the woods barely a week ago. He thought for a second. That was before Icemaker got here. And Icemaker’s vampires had worn red.

  Now he realized how he would get in. But he wouldn’t want these. These were the locals, guards of the Scholomance. They would probably be more recognizable—he would have a harder time replacing one. The red guards were newcomers and would be barely known.

  Alex waited for the guards to move farther off, then began to creep along the top of the wall until he reached an area where more vehicles were parked below him on the inside of the wall.

  Near another APC was a pair of vampires in dark red gear and hoods. Perfect.

  This didn’t happen: He didn’t drop off the wall and tap the vampires on the shoulder. The vampires didn’t look back like a pair of idiots and let Alex clobber them and take their clothes. That might have happened—in an infinite universe that had to happen sometimes—but it didn’t happen this time, because Alex nearly blew it falling off the wall.

  Alex started to drop, but as he swept his legs down his sweatshirt caught on the jagged top of the brick, and he gasped as it caught his neck. He pushed off and gasped again as he landed on his shoulder.

  Fifteen yards away, the two vampires in red swept their heads instantly in his direction.

  Spotted. He didn’t have time for anything else. The vampires moved with insane speed, a blur of red leggings and boots and white faces coming toward him. Alex lifted the Polibow and squeezed off a bolt. With a fwoosh the vampire on the right went up in a cloud of dust.

  The other went straight for Alex, grabbing him by the throat before he had a chance to register what was happening. The Polibow fell from Alex’s hand and for a moment Alex stared into the vampire’s shining eyes. “What’s this?” hissed the vampire.

  Alex blinked as time slowed to a crawl.

  Never freeze. Answer the questions.

  What’s going on? He’s choking me.

  What do you have? I dropped my weapon!

  What else do you have? I have a stake, it’s in my belt.

  The vampire’s nails were digging into his neck as he found the handle of the stake in his belt loop, no more hesitation, grab it.

  It had eyes. Human eyes. Eyes on a body someone gave birth to once. Someone…

  This isn’t a person. It’s a nonperson, a former person, a post-critical-failure-whatever person. Stab it before it makes you one, too. Do it now.

  He yanked the stake up, catching the vampire in the belly. The creature hissed in pain as his skin burned, flesh sizzling as it touched the wooden shaft, and he dropped Alex.

  Alex wasted no time in withdrawing the weapon and slamming it home again into the creature’s chest. The dust explosion scattered over him and Alex’s eyes blazed with agony as the particles got in them. He bent forward, blinking, feeling the plastic of his contacts swimming frantically over his eyeballs.

  Alex breathed hard, blinking.

  Great. It would help if you got the clothes before you burned them up.

  He moved in silence along the line of vehicles until he found another chance—a red-uniformed vampire working under the hood of a Humvee.

  The static started to hiss more loudly as he pressed on, his heart racing. You can do this. Go.

  Alex ran up and smacked aside the bar holding up the hood. With all his strength he brought the hood down on the creature. It landed heavily, trapping the vampire’s head. The vampire fought, clawing but unseeing.

  Alex slammed the hood again and the vampire went still.

  It couldn’t be dead, he realized. It didn’t go fwoosh.

  He felt his blood pumping as he moved quickly, as if by instinct. No—certainly by instinct. This was the business he was built for. Alex grabbed the vampire’s tunic and dared to lift the vehicle hood slightly as he ripped the tunic up and over the creature’s head. He let the hood drop again and made quick work of stripping the red leggings, boots, and tunic from the creature. Just as the vampire was coming to, he shot it.

  Alex ducked behind the Humvee and donned the red leggings and tunic over his own clothes—they were much too big for him—and was forced to wear the backpack underneath, over his shirt. He kept the Polibow on his shoulder under the tunic as well, but slid the stake into an outer pocket of the leggings.

  By the time he reached the end of the vehicle line, he was dressed like a vampire, albeit not a tall one, and hoping his hood helped him look like one.

  Alex paused at the edge of the castle. He could see the whole courtyard and a number of large, black marble buildings behind the Scholomance castle. For the first time he got a good view of the populace.

  There were vampires on the lawn before the castle and around the side as well, some walking together, some sprawled on the straight, white grass with what Alex surmised were books. Some of the books he saw were old and leather-bound, but many of them were new and slick.

  There were vampires playing soccer in the main courtyard. This place looked like a university mall or park, and the whole student body seemed to be out and about. He had no choice but to step forward, hood drawn over his head, and begin walking quickly along the path, moving up alongside the castle, looking for an entrance.

  As he walked, a pair of vampires in white looked his way, and Alex nodded as best he could in his hood, hoping the mortality of his flesh did not show or smell through the borrowed tunic.

  If Paul and Minhi were being held captive, surely they would be in a dungeon. That would be in the castle. But he didn’t see a side entrance into the castle.

  As he reached the rear of the castle, he saw that it was connected to the black marble buildings. An entrance ahead of him, into the next building, read simply CAFETERIA.

  Well, vampires gotta eat. Or drink. He tried not to think too hard about it, because there was no turning back and he had to keep moving.

  Alex proceeded up a short staircase, through glass doors, and into a cafeteria like none he had ever seen.

  Oh my God. There were tables throughout the room, with a familiar hodgepodge of students studying and talking, but next to term papers and books and mash notes were glasses, goblets, plastic Nalgene bottles, all filled with a red liquid. Alex didn’t want to contemplate how they filled the vessels, but then he saw them: captives. Lining the back of the cafeteria were cages hanging from hooks in the ceiling. In the cages were humans, sullen and unseeing.

  Fear shot through him for Minhi and Paul. He scanned the captives’ faces rapidly as he drew closer, moving along the edge of the cafeteria. There were seven, all told. The half-dead captives were as pale as death but alive, dressed shabbily in hospital gowns. Four females, three males, all adult. Paul and Minhi were not among them.

  As he passed, one of the captives, a woman who appeared to be about forty, looked at him, and his heart leapt as she seemed to move her mouth.

  He had to keep going.

  Alex made a decision that he knew was only await
ing the right moment. He exited the cafeteria on the right and made his way into a hallway.

  A hallway that was full of vampires.

  CHAPTER 19

  For a moment the static rose to a roar and he had to pause and force it to the back of his mind.

  A crowd of vampires, most of them wearing white, was moving steadily toward him from either direction, passing all around, each headed his or her own way. Alex turned to the wall, pretending to study a bulletin board, looking for a map.

  There wasn’t one. For a moment he listened to the voices as they passed, hearing the vampires talking among themselves. He could pick up nothing of import—most of them seemed to be students concerned about classes. Here and there he heard the term Icemaker, but nothing he could grab on to.

  Then he heard voices on a higher register and looked down the hall. A bunch of student vampires, appearing to be in their mid-teens, were moving in a group. They were young ones—or at least vampires who had been young when turned.

  A tall vampire woman with long, brown hair came out of the cafeteria and seemed to stop and look at Alex as she passed, slowing a bit.

  Determined not to stand still, Alex waited until the classroom-size group had nearly passed and then he slipped in behind them.

  For about fifty yards he walked with the short vampires. One toward the end of the line looked back and slowed to walk next to him.

  It was a vampire boy with black hair and white eyes, his hood down. “Are you one of Icemaker’s army?” he asked.

  Alex kept walking, nodding inside his hood. “Yes,” he rasped. “We, ah, serve the master in all things.”

  “Do you all talk like that? That must be really weird. I thought only the really ancient ones talked that way. Are you very old but got changed as a boy?”

  Alex looked sideways, trying not to let too much of his face show. “I don’t remember anymore,” he said. Ridiculous answer.

  His eye started to twitch. He felt instantly what was happening and swore inwardly. A speck of dust fell from his eyelash into his right eye and he blinked rapidly. “I mean, it was very long ago,” he stuttered to the boy. He tried to control his blinking, but the soft plastic of the contact was shifting under his eyelid. It was losing its grasp on his eyeball. Beside him, the boy was trying to get a better look at him as he kept talking.