Alex Van Helsing Voice of the Undead - By Jason Henderson Page 0,13

truth—had gathered together whenever they could find an excuse to meet up in town.

The three boys reached the entrance to the gymnasium and Paul let out a slow whistle. “Behold,” he said, “the Kingdom of Cots.”

The gymnasium had become a kind of hostel, with cots stretching in long rows. Some boys were already asleep, while others were gathering in groups around the cots. Alex saw sooty faces looking back at him all along the way. He was momentarily plagued by guilt at not seeing the loathed Merrill brothers. They were a couple of jerks, but no one deserved what Steven had gotten, and Alex especially didn’t like being the reason for it. “It looks like Gone with the Wind in here,” Alex said, thinking of the makeshift hospitals that had been set up during the American Civil War. He had seen that movie with his mother, who had a weakness for old movies, and he had been struck by the images of public halls being converted this way, with cots and sheets and, in that case and thankfully not this one, doctors with hacksaws.

“Guys!” Minhi beckoned them from a table along the wall, where she was briefly visible through a clustered crowd of boys. Alex saw the steam rising off the Styrofoam cups they held, and he realized she was giving away hot chocolate.

He, Paul, and Sid picked up their step. When they got there, Minhi poured cups and handed one immediately to each of them.

“Thank you,” Sid said.

“Absolutely,” Minhi said. She reached out and hugged Paul, pecking him on the cheek.

Alex took the kiss Minhi gave Paul in stride. No big deal. Precisely why he wasn’t bothered by it. Not at all.

A girl next to Minhi cleared her throat, and Alex turned to the sound of papers rustling. The girl stood up from her place behind the table and said, “Please take one.”

“What’s all this?” Alex asked as he took the paper. The girl looked up with a tired but patient look. She wore a green, shimmery scarf, tied in a jaunty fashion around her neck. Her hair was brown and chin length, stiff and well arranged.

“This is everything you’re going to need to know for the next few days at least,” she said with an accent that reminded Alex of a Pedro Almodovar movie, husky and full of strange, slushy s’s and y’s that sounded like j’s: Thish izh everything jor going to need. As she spoke, the scarf danced briefly. She swept her arm toward the Kingdom of Cots. “This is where you’ll sleep. There’s a map on the sheet, and hours when you’ll have access to the showers in the back of the gym. We didn’t have much time but there are some . . . rules and instructions on what to do about classes.” She smiled very slightly, more with her eyes than her mouth.

Sid was looking at the paper. “Yeah, how are we gonna do classes? And where are the instructors sleeping? And—”

“Ah—right now the paper is all we have. If the answer’s not there it’s because no one’s told us yet.” Alex noticed that she sounded both compassionate and weary, as though she’d already said this too many times.

“Vienna, these are my friends,” Minhi interjected. “This is Alex Van Helsing, Sid Chamberlain, and this is Paul Messina.”

“Oh, this is Paul,” Vienna said, and she flicked her eyes up and down. “Eso es.”

“Vienna?” Alex asked.

“This is Vienna Cazorla,” said Minhi. “She’s my roommate.”

“Cazorla,” Vienna corrected, hitting the middle z with a th sound, Cathorla. She smiled briefly again, an entrancing and instantly vanishing phenomenon.

Alex tried to think of something good and came up with, “Cazorla, that’s Spanish, right?”

She nodded. The eyes again. Wow.

“But yet your first name is Vienna, that’s . . . unusual, isn’t it?”

“It is a strange world.” Vienna shrugged. Then she remembered her list and looked down, checking off the three boys’ names. She flipped through it for a moment and glanced up, gazing past them. “Is there no one else?”

“We’re the last,” Alex said. He started to say something profoundly stupid like we always save the best for last and by the grace of God he somehow did not.

“What about . . .” Vienna bit her lip, searching her list.

For a moment Minhi and Vienna turned to each other, and Vienna looked back. “Do you know Steven Merrill?”

Alex felt the blood drain from his face. A jumble of responses flooded into his mind, and he stammered, “You . . .