The Mina Murray Series Bundle, A Dracula Retelling: Books 1-3

by L. D. Goffigan

  I remained standing, reaching for the kukri tucked into my sleeve should the vampire resurface, but I could vaguely see the still form of the creature through the murky waters as he sank to the bottom of the sea. The tension in my body dissipated, and I closed my eyes.

  Once my breathing returned to normal, I sat back down. Seward gave me a grateful and impressed nod as he continued to row, while Abe desperately tried to stop Arthur’s bleeding.

  Arthur was deathly pale now, his breathing ragged. Abe looked up to meet my eyes, and I could tell by his troubled features that it was too late. Arthur would not survive.

  “We’ll soon be at shore,” Seward said, as if reading our minds. “We’ll get you help, Arthur.”

  “Abraham. Mina,” Arthur rasped, focusing his pained eyes on us.

  We leaned in close. Though he was clearly in great agony, a calm had settled over his face, and he reached a hand out towards Lucy’s still body, weakly entwining his fingers through hers.

  “We’re almost at shore,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I gave him a forced smile. “We’re going to get you—”

  “Listen to me,” Arthur interrupted, holding our gazes. “You find Jonathan. Do not let him suffer the same fate as my Lucy. You— you must find this creature. This monster,” he coughed, and even through his weakness and pain, I could sense his rage. “And you destroy him.”

  “We will destroy him together,” Abe said, but his voice quivered, his eyes glistening with tears.

  Arthur’s gaze remained intently on ours, waiting for a response. I reached out to take his other hand, giving it a firm squeeze.

  “We will,” I said fervently. “I promise.”

  Those seemed to be the words he needed to hear to let go. The light went out in his eyes, and they permanently drifted shut.

  13

  Adrift

  Our boat drifted further and further away from the Demeter. Rain no longer fell from the sky, and the fading rays of the sun painted the previously gray sky with shades of deep blue and violet. The stunning beauty of the waning day was a stark contrast to the horrors we’d just witnessed, as if nature itself wanted to wipe away the memory of those monstrosities.

  I sat huddled next to Abe, my gaze sweeping from the Demeter to both Arthur and Lucy’s dead bodies, which lay in the center of the boat. They both looked peaceful and serene, forever linked by death.

  Abe was still as a statue, his eyes red with tears as he looked down at his friend’s body. Seward continued to row, his eyes averted from Arthur and Lucy, his mouth set in a grim line.

  “This . . . this is my fault,” I said, my voice breaking, as the sting of self-loathing began to stir beneath my grief. “I should not have convinced Arthur to come with us. This—it’s my fight. I can continue on alone.”

  “Nonsense. No one is responsible for Arthur’s death except for the creatures who slaughtered him,” Abe bit out harshly. “Arthur insisted on facing them. He had to know he would not survive. It is my belief that he lost the will to live the moment we realized Lucy had been infected. He told me many times that he could not bear to live without her. When a man is determined to die . . . no one can stop him.”

  Though I believed Abe’s words, my guilt and grief did not lessen, and I closed my eyes against a fresh wave of tears.

  “How’d this happen? How was the ship overrun by those damned creatures? It happened so quickly,” Seward spoke up, rattled. “When I woke up from my nap, Arthur and Lucy weren’t in their cabin. Lucy must’ve gotten free and Arthur went after her. I went up to the deck and those things—they were swarming.”

  “The captain did mention ill crew members when we first boarded,” Abe replied. “The shipmates must have already been in the final stages of the transformation—they were most likely infected at the same time.”

  “Infected shipmates on a cargo ship that makes regular stops in London? That seems too deliberate to be coincidental,” I said, trying to focus my thoughts as I wiped away my tears.

  “I agree,” Abe said, somberly meeting my eyes. “I assume the captain logged every port where the ship has been docked in his journal. It could help us ascertain where the sailors were infected.”

  “Bloody hell,” Seward whispered. “If vampires purposefully infected the shipmates . . .”

  “Sailors are an ideal way to spread vampirism. They move from port to port, ship to ship. Think of all the great plagues that have hit Europe—many were spread across the continent by sea,” Abe replied.

  We fell darkly silent as the implication of his words settled in. I desperately wanted to be wrong about an invasion, but the evidence in its favor was increasing.

  “The man who helped us on the Demeter,” I said suddenly, recalling our mysterious savior. “He seemed . . . familiar, but I’ve never seen him before. He knew about vampires and how to kill them. Did either of you notice him? Recognize him?”

  “No,” Seward said regretfully. “Whoever he was, he helped save our lives.”

  Sorrow flickered through me as I returned my focus to the Demeter, now a small speck on the distant horizon. Our savior had no doubt perished on the ship.

  “That ship will eventually arrive on some shore,” Abe said, frowning as he followed my eyes. “Those bodies are going to be found. There will be many questions.”

  “The authorities’ll explain it away,” Seward said bitterly. “I’ve seen it with the Ripper murders. ‘A rogue wolf somehow got aboard and attacked the sailors, who were already ill with fever’,” he continued, taking on the authoritative tone of what I assumed was an inspector; it reminded me of the condescending Scotland Yard inspector at the Langham. “They won’t come to the conclusion of vamp—vampires. I’ve seen the damn things and I can hardly even say the word.”

  “What do we do about Arthur and Lucy?” I asked. “If we alert the authorities to collect their bodies, there will be an inquest; questions we’re not prepared to answer.”

  “We will bury them near the shore,” Abe said, after a long pause, his eyes leaden with grief as he once again looked down at Arthur. “When this is all over, we can arrange to have their bodies returned to England. There is no evidence of our presence on the ship. I have Arthur and Lucy’s bag. Arthur’s friends and family were aware of Lucy’s illness—he told them he would travel with her throughout the continent to see about doctors and would be away for a few weeks. That gives us some time. No one will be expecting them.”

  We nodded our agreement. Though I was uneasy at the thought of burying them in some random location, taking the time to fabricate a story about what happened to them for the local authorities would cause an even greater delay and ultimately be futile. Arthur’s final request to destroy the vampire who had taken Jonathan was still fresh in my mind, and I fully intended to keep my promise to him without delay.

  We soon spotted a shore in the near distance. Abe reached into his bag, unearthing a compass.

  “From where the ship was last, that shore should be southern Holland. After . . . after we bury Arthur and Lucy,” he said, with great difficulty. “We should find the nearest town and arrange for horses to a train station.”

  Our boat eventually drifted into shallow waters near the shore, and we all got out to help pull the boat the rest of the way onto the beach. I straightened and took in our surroundings. The beach we stood on curved and winded in both directions like an unfurled ribbon, edged by grassy dunes that gave way to more solid ground. In the near distance, I could see a small fishing village that hugged the shore.

  Without speaking, we quickly and quietly moved into action. Abe and Seward carried both Arthur and Lucy’s bodies out of the boat, and I directed them up the dunes to a grassy area of firm ground fifty yards away from the shore. We worked in silence, digging into the moist earth with our bare hands to create a wide, shallow burial area for the both of them. When we had a sizable space, I stood back as they gingerly deposited Arthur and Lucy inside. Together, we somberly buried them in the
earth. When they were completely buried, I found nearby rocks and placed them over the makeshift grave.

  We stood for a lengthy moment of silence over the grave. Though I had only known Arthur briefly, I could tell that he was a good man, and had loved his wife deeply. I recalled the brief look of love in Lucy’s eyes right before she died, the helpless cries of the dying shipmates aboard the Demeter, our savior being pulled back onto the ship by the vampire, Arthur’s anguished eyes right before he died. Beneath my sorrow, a surge of rage arose, hot and fierce. How many lives had those creatures taken? How many lives would they continue to take if they weren’t stopped?

  Soft weeping at my side pulled me from my angry reverie. Abe had pressed his face into his hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs. I was momentarily taken aback at the sight; Abe was a man who usually held control over his emotions. The last time I had seen him weep was at Father’s funeral. At the time, my own grief had been so great that I’d barely been able to comfort him.

  I turned him towards me. He dropped his hands, and I stepped into the circle of his arms, allowing him to bury his face in my hair and continue to weep. As Abe wept, Seward remained stoic, but I saw that his lips moved in silent prayer.

  Abe composed himself and stepped back, giving me a nod of gratitude before he knelt down to place his hand over the grave.

  “Goodbye Arthur, my friend. Goodbye Lucy,” he whispered. “I–I am sorry that I failed you both.”

  He closed his eyes and murmured a silent prayer, tears spilling from behind his lids, before returning to his feet.

  “We should head to that fishing village,” he said, nothing in his tone betraying his outpouring of emotion only seconds earlier. Without waiting for a reply, he hoisted up the bags onto both shoulders, turning towards the dirt path that led away from the shore to the village. I watched him go with concern, knowing that he would bury his grief until it became a part of him. I had done the same with Father’s death.

  Seward trailed after him, shouldering his own bag, but I lingered for a moment longer at Arthur and Lucy’s grave. When the time is right, I will tell the world of your bravery. I promise that your deaths won’t be in vain, I vowed.

  I joined Abe and Seward as they reached the path, and we continued towards the village, still stricken with mutual grief.

  As we neared the outskirts of the fishing village, I could see the fishing boats that crowded the small harbor lined with cottages. A steepled church and town hall dominated the central square, surrounded by more homes and buildings that sprawled out from the square to line the narrow streets. It was a small village, with likely a minuscule population, but when we entered the central square, we saw no signs of life at all. The village looked as if it had been abandoned.

  I saw a flicker of movement by the window of one of the cottages that edged the square, and twenty men suddenly raced out of the surrounding homes, armed with knives, scythes, and pickaxes, aiming them directly at our hearts.

  We froze as a stocky man of medium height stepped forward, his grip firm on the hilt of a long knife. He wore the same traditional dress of the other men: baggy trousers, a long-sleeved shirt, wooden shoes, and a fisherman’s hat. Like Captain Harper, he had the rough look of a man who was more accustomed to life at sea than on land. He seemed to be the de facto leader of the group; the other men fell back to watch him as he approached.

  “Wie ben jij? Waarom ben je hier?!” he demanded.

  I spoke some Dutch, but the man’s words were spoken too quickly for me to understand. Abe held up his hands to indicate that we meant no harm, his tone strained but calm as he replied in Dutch.

  “There was an accident on our ship, and we are stranded. We only need to borrow horses to get to the nearest train station,” he said.

  But the man continued to eye us suspiciously, and I could understand why. Our clothes were still damp from the storm and the sea, splattered with dirt and blood; our eyes shadowed with shock and fatigue. We looked as if we’d just stepped off a battlefield.

  The other men began to shout at Abe in rapid Dutch, their voices rising with increased hostility. Abe replied to them in Dutch, but I could tell that he wasn’t calming them down. I anxiously scanned the village, noticing a petite woman who hovered in the doorway of a small house next to the church. She wore a dark brown dress with an apron, her hair tucked beneath a cotton bonnet, her dark eyes wide with worry. In her hand, she clutched a wooden cross. Above her, several cloves of garlic hung above the doorway.

  I stiffened when I saw the garlic, realizing the cause of their suspicions. Vampires. This village must have come under attack. It would explain its near abandoned state, and their excessive caution towards three unarmed strangers.

  I turned to approach the woman. The men began to shout at me now, and I could feel the ire of their gazes as their attention turned towards me.

  “Mina! What are you doing?” Abe shouted in English, panicked, before switching back to Dutch. “Please, she means you no harm!”

  The woman met my eyes as I approached, and I saw alarm cross her features before the leader and his men hurriedly surrounded me, stopping me in my tracks. The leader’s eyes were hard as they settled on me, and he stepped forward to press the blade of his knife against my heart. If I moved even slightly, it would pierce through the fabric of the dress to my skin.

  “Please! She means you no harm!” Abe shouted again. His words did nothing to ease the suspicion in the man’s look.

  “She’s not armed!” Seward shouted.

  “Alsjeblieft,” I implored him, in hesitant Dutch. I looked past the man at the woman, who continued to watch me with unease. “I see your garlic, your cross, your weapons. I know what you fear. Bloedzuigers. Vampiers. Monsters.”

  The last word was the same in both English and Dutch, and the leader flinched with surprise at my words, while the woman stilled. The armed men exchanged astonished looks as well. My suspicions were correct.

  I evenly met their eyes; nothing less than the truth would make them trust us.

  “Vampires have attacked us as well. They killed our friends. They took over our ship, and now we’re stranded; that’s why we’re covered in blood. And . . . they took someone I love. From London,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, but it shook as I thought of Jonathan. “We intend to rescue him, and kill the vampires who took him. We just need to borrow horses to continue on our journey. Believe that we understand your fear. But we are on the same side, and we truly mean you no harm.”

  For a long and strained moment, the man’s gaze remained on my face, hard and resolute as stone, his knife still pressed against my heart.

  “Gijs,” the woman finally spoke, turning to look at the man. “Let her go.”

  14

  Ijsbran

  I slipped out of my stained, damp dress and undergarments, dropping them in a heap on the floor before using the wash bin in front of me to carefully scrub the dried dirt and blood from my skin. I looked around the minuscule bedroom. Furnished only with a narrow bed, a layer of dust covered the floor and walls, and a musky scent hung in the air; it was clear that it had not been used in some time.

  Just outside the window, I could hear the low murmur of conversation from Gijs, his wife Katrien—the woman whom I had approached—and a few of the other villagers.

  Moments earlier, Gijs had apologized for their hostility after they all lowered their weapons.

  “Been attacked many times by those beasts,” he had said gruffly, in halting English. “Learned to be careful of strangers.”

  “Careful?” Seward demanded, furious. “You could’ve bloody killed us.”

  “Didn’t know if you were one of those beasts,” Gijs replied, his tone hardening. “Those monsters wear human skin.”

  “Gijs,” Katrien spoke up. “They’ve been through much. Let them change clothes and take a meal . . . then we talk.”

  Gijs did not protest, and Katrien led us to two empty cottages on the edge of the square to wash
and change into our spare clothes.

  Now, I dried myself off before changing into a tan traveling dress and secured my loose hair back into a low bun before leaving the room. Abe and Seward had joined the others, and we trailed them to Gijs and Katrien’s home.

  In their sizable kitchen, Katrien provided us with a meal of bread, herring, and boiled potatoes. Several of the armed men who had surrounded us earlier also crowded inside the kitchen, their former suspicious hostility replaced by curiosity. They were joined by a few women, whom I suspected must have been hiding in other cottages during our approach. They were dressed similarly to Katrien, in simple dark dresses covered with aprons, white caps covering their hair.

  As we began to eat, Abe gave them an overview of what happened on the Demeter and back in London. They listened intently, their faces filled with fright, but no one looked particularly surprised. When Abe finished, a brief silence fell before Gijs began to speak.

  “Many families lived here,” he said quietly. “They’ve fled.”

  “When did the attacks begin?” Seward asked.

  Gijs responded in Dutch, speaking slowly enough for me to understand. Abe and I listened, and Abe periodically translated for Seward.

  “A year ago. Heard stories about other villages in the countryside, but didn’t think they were true until like things began to happen here. Men, women . . . sometimes entire families vanish from their homes in the night. Cattle and humans drained of blood. Men and women started to appear in the middle of the night, standing at the village edge, just watching us. Thought they were wandering vagrants or gypsies from the countryside—but they attacked and abducted villagers . . . and I knew they were beasts. Vampires.”

  My heart did an uneasy catapult, and I exchanged a dark look with Abe. How many stories like these had we heard in the Transylvanian countryside? How many had we dismissed?