Alex Van Helsing Voice of the Undead - By Jason Henderson Page 0,29

he kicked.

He watched the eyes of the porter, milky and mottled and almost translucent like all the vampires’. As the porter’s hand came free, Alex spoke.

“Guys!” and that was it, because the vampire porter smashed him in the side of the head and the Bluetooth went clattering onto the deck.

They were in the little entryway to the train car and no one else was coming; Alex could see that. The train lurched and began to move, and unless someone chose this moment to open the door from the passenger compartment, the porter was free to do what he did next.

He hissed like a cobra and went for Alex’s throat.

Alex felt time freeze as he took in his tiny surroundings, the closed collapsing door of the train, the sliding door into the passenger section, the other sliding door into the narrow space between the two cars. They were in an area about the size of a closet.

As the vampire lunged, Alex braced himself against the wall and kicked, hard, connecting with the vampire’s chest and sending him back. He winced in pain; kicking a vampire always felt like kicking a sack of sand. He reached into his jacket and drew his Polibow, whipping it up and aiming at the porter. He was three inches away when he fired, and the vampire burst into flame, singeing Alex’s eyebrows before he fell to dust.

Alex registered and ignored the acrid smell of burnt hair filling the compartment. He looked down to find that the Bluetooth had been destroyed, too, reduced to a lump of plastic under the vampire’s ashes.

We’re moving. Sangster must know he was on the train. Alex looked out the window and watched the station wall slide past as the train began to pick up speed, heading toward the lake.

Fine. It was time to visit the blond man.

Alex pushed the sliding door open and stepped into the train car, scanning the passengers. Of those facing toward him he felt and observed nothing of interest. Those facing away were quiet, reading, talking on cell phones. Half of them were working on laptops, the train merely an extension of their offices.

Now Alex saw someone rise and head for the door at the end—the blond man, ponytail draped over a brown leather jacket, a brown leather cap on his head. He didn’t look back as he grabbed the door and went through. Alex hurried after him.

Out the door and Alex found himself stepping into the flimsy, enclosed connector between cars. He looked through the glass and saw the blond man—the blond vampire—moving all the way into the next car.

His brain started to hiss as he raced along. He stepped through, and this time the car was different, and the winds in his brain began to howl.

For a brief moment Alex took the final car in—richer, full of high leather seats and proper curtains, a first-class accommodation to be sure. That was all he had time to observe before turning his attention to the gang of vampires that now looked up at him from their card tables.

Directly in front of Alex were two vampires, large and muscular men wearing tailored suits. One had a goatee, the other appeared not to have shaved—a couple of stylish vampire thugs.

Farther back, the blond man had stopped at a table and now turned toward him, as if amused. Seated at that table was a vampire who was looking down. He was pale white but not built for speed the way every other vampire Alex had observed was. This vampire had salt-and-pepper hair that curled over his forehead, and a trimmed beard that clung to a roundish face. He wore off-white pants and a white cotton peasant shirt, flowing and comfortable. Alex couldn’t see the vampire’s feet, but he felt certain the man would be wearing leather loafers, no socks.

All of this in less than a second, and then one of the thugs at the front snarled. Alex raised his Polibow and shot, killing him instantly, and the other was upon him, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him back against the wall.

Alex struggled against the vampire’s strength, kicking, and the Polibow fell from his hands.

Answer the questions. What’s going on?

One of them has me.

What do you have?

I dropped my weapon.

What else do you have?

Alex flicked his arm, bringing his metal watch to the end of his wrist. It was made of silver and he had carved a cross into the clasp. He smacked the guard in the face, holding