Alex Van Helsing The Triumph of Death - By Jason Henderson Page 0,5

with simple doppelgangers. These doppelgangers were zombie-like in nature and didn’t last long.

And they were made of banana leaves.

Of course an Aswang didn’t look like banana leaves—the glamour that transformed them smoothed over the vegetable matter and gave them the appearance of normal, if sallow, human beings. But there was no disguising the smell and the beginnings of rot.

The bolt struck the steward in the chest and the steward’s eyes burst like banana-filled tomatoes, his body disintegrating into leaves and sweet-smelling mush. Alex fired at the pilot vampire as the steward fell apart, but the vampire pushed the falling mass toward Alex. Alex missed.

The copilot yanked on the emergency exit—something Alex wasn’t expecting—and suddenly wind and papers and the last vestiges of the banana leaf man were flying out the door. Alex drew his Polibow again and the vampire smacked him across the face, sending him flying back.

Alex could now barely hear over the roar of wind. He watched Gunnar Hansen’s body lift with the sudden bucking of the plane and smash to the floor.

Alex felt the plane begin to pitch slightly and then steady, fighting to stay on course. Obviously the autopilot was functioning, or else the plane would surely be diving toward the earth. But as the plane jolted, the tablet computer slipped from his hand, bouncing off the bulkhead near the vampire. About thirty oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling.

As Alex steadied himself against a seat, he saw the pilot had already picked up the computer and attached it to a cord that ran to an iPod-like device on his belt. The pilot vampire studied the connection between the two devices for a second, watching a few lights blinking on his own device. Then, as the blinking slowed, he nodded and tossed the Polidorium tablet aside. “Okay.”

The copilot nodded in agreement, removing his jacket to reveal a parachute attached to his shoulders. He snapped the clasps across his chest and disappeared through the door without another signal.

“Gracias, amigo!” called the pilot, and he bounded past Alex in a blur. The vampire stopped at the door, looking back. “I’ve heard you are always prepared. I’ll bet you weren’t prepared for this!” With that, the vampire leapt out the door.

Alex ran after the vampire and stopped, holding on. He paused for a moment and stared across the entire plane.

Just him and the late Hansen, who absolutely had not expected his last act to be that of searching for a granola bar.

Could he fly the plane?

You can’t fly a plane.

And then something in the cockpit burst with orange and red, and Alex saw flames rising with the smell of burning plastic and black smoke.

Okay. Okay, now you’re in trouble.

Chest flooding. That’s panic. Ask the questions.

In microseconds, questions shot across Alex’s mind like ricocheting bullets.

What’s going on?

I’m alone at 30,000 feet. The cockpit has been destroyed. The door is open.

What do you need to get down?

A parachute.

Do you have one?

No.

Is there one nearby?

Alex saw a small door clasped shut near the cockpit. He tore it open, hoping to find a parachute. No such luck.

Who has one?

No time. The smell of smoke was getting thicker. He looked around for something to protect his eyes from the wind and saw his motorcycle helmet rolling against the bulkhead. He slapped it on his head and slipped his arms through the straps of the go package. He was out of time.

He drew near to the door, looked out, took a deep breath, and leapt.

Alex flipped once in the wind, totally losing control. For a moment he was thankful that he could barely see the ground—just a distant line of tiny lights dotting the landscape like LEDs on a model train set. He could see a train, in fact, far below, a long stream of bright yellow lights pulsing out of the sides of the cars.

He spotted the first vampire farther below, finally, his parachute shimmering in the darkness, barely visible—a brilliant red vinyl canopy.

This is crazy. You’re going to die shot through his head and he shut it down. Breathe. This is your only chance.

He was falling. Without a parachute. He scanned the air some more, Find it find it, and spotted the second vampire. Both seemed about a quarter mile or more away, not far from one another. I pick that one. Alex tilted forward, bringing his arms close to his sides, and began to dive.

The wind smashed against his Plexiglas wind visor and roared, rolling the skin of his face back toward his