Alex Van Helsing The Triumph of Death - By Jason Henderson Page 0,13

a street Alex knew well, dotted with restaurants and bars and more shops, sloping downhill. “We’re going to the marina?”

Sangster and Armstrong seemed to exchange silent messages. Alex watched as they both suddenly relaxed, their shoulders rolling down as they sat back in the seat.

Sangster slowly drew a breath. “Civil unrest is not our thing. Be ready, we’re stopping in about one minute.”

Armstrong looked up. “Blue.”

Alex followed her eyes. There on the satellite image, a strange blue emanation was gathering and pulsing right at the edge of the water, among the piers of the marina.

The van screeched to a halt in the cobblestoned drive, and Alex took in the whole scene beyond—a long pier with a two-story restaurant at the end, two more nearly as large with one-story bars of their own, and countless jetties with small boats. All were encased in darkness. He checked his watch; the silver cross in the clasp glinted green as it reflected the satellite screen. It was twenty-five minutes past noon.

The engine idled as they watched people running down the piers. The restaurant at the end of one flickered now, and Alex saw smoke pouring out of its side. Then his eye caught something else.

“Look.”

“I see it,” Sangster responded. They pulled closer to the window to see water swirling around off the end of the main pier, kicking up a furious foam.

“So what’s the plan?” It occurred to Alex that he hadn’t asked. “What are we doing?”

“We’re the first to see what’s happening.” Armstrong went to the door and prepared to pull it open. She tugged the mask down over her mouth, leaving the top half of her face exposed, and Alex and Sangster did the same. Alex pulled the Polibow out of the side of his go package and looked at it. It was a later model than he often used, with twice as many bolts in the magazine—meaning he had sixteen shots.

Sangster tapped the mobile piece in his ear and Alex heard the tap in his own. Then the teacher briskly nodded at Armstrong.

Armstrong yanked the door open and they hustled out, Alex forming up behind them at the back of the van.

At first there was only the sound of confused people ranging around the jetties and the wind clanking lines against sailboat masts. All three of them kept their eyes on the water.

The roiling whirlpool at the edge of the marina churned and spewed water, and they heard an almost electric series of cracks and pops that echoed like gunshots. Alex felt a wave of static in his head come hard and fast, roaring insistently. “Here it comes.”

The surface seemed to rip open, and Alex saw a strange shape bursting up around the pier: A latticework of white rolled up out of the lake, like a great, grasping skeletal claw, and grabbed on to the pier. He saw silhouettes moving among the latticework, as if a band of people were climbing quickly up a flight of stairs.

And then the invasion began.

CHAPTER 5

“Everyone, get away!” Sangster waved his arms as they moved forward from the van, closing the distance to the long boardwalk that connected with the main pier. A man and woman running out of the restaurant nearly collided with him.

Armstrong spoke rapidly into her Bluetooth. “Farmhouse, this is Armstrong, Sangster, and Van Helsing. We are at the pier—we have an incursion of Scholomance vampires emerging from the water.”

Alex heard another female voice, farther away, click on. “Acknowledged. Reinforcements are on the way.”

“How many?” They reached the edge of the pier, watching a steadily approaching crowd of white-clad vampires with something strange about their faces, something Alex still couldn’t make out.

“Four vans, just now entering Secheron by the main road. ETA five minutes.”

“We’re going to need more than that, and faster,” Sangster cut in.

One of the vampires on the pier caught a woman in a blue coat, biting viciously at her throat. The woman went down and the vampire rose again, moving on.

The team hugged a wide telephone pole and Sangster watched the advancing horde tear into the crowd of townspeople. “They’re not feeding, just attacking. We can’t get a clean shot until these people are clear,” he added in frustration.

The group was still a hundred yards off, and Alex nearly ran into another pedestrian. The look in the man’s eyes was a confused sort of terror. “That way!” Alex shouted, waving him off.

Now Alex saw what was strange about the vampires’ faces. The nearest one, the one who had attacked