Alex Van Helsing Voice of the Undead - By Jason Henderson Page 0,59

said. “That’s completely not cool.”

Alex heard Ilsa whisper a question to Sid and the boy shrugged.

Another text buzzed.

EMERGENCY.

Alex shook his head, feeling himself separate even before he knew what he had decided. “It’s why I’m here,” he said.

“It’s why you’re here?” Vienna hissed. “Not tonight, it isn’t, for heaven’s sake.”

Alex pleaded, “Look, I’m sorry.”

“Alex!” He was doing something terrible. She needed an escort, at the very least. She couldn’t go stag.

“Maybe somebody can lead you—”

A stoic sadness crept into her eyes and she said, “Eh.”

“Look, I’ll try to catch up,” Alex said to them all. “It’s an emergency.”

Paul and Sid shrugged. Minhi just looked mournful. Vienna had already transitioned to controlling the fist of death, and Ilsa was thankfully clueless. He couldn’t look at them anymore. Turning, he bolted through the gate and headed clear around the campus to the back. He had barely gotten there when a black van roared around a corner. He felt overwhelmed with anger; it was buzzing in his brain, drowning out every other sensation, and urging him to scream and punch the first person he saw. Is this my life now? I said I wanted it, so is this what my life is?

Alex couldn’t see through the driver’s side window but he started yelling anyway. “What the hell, Sangster!” He didn’t have a go package, so they’d better have equipment. What was it going to be now? Were they going bungee jumping over another train?

He thrust his phone forward. “You totally destroy my evening with a text?”

The van doors slid open.

Steven Merrill grabbed Alex’s hand and crushed the cell phone in it like an aluminum can as he yanked him inside. Alex’s sliced palm sang with pain. He flew through the air and crashed against the far side of the van.

He rolled to a stop under the grinning, fanged visage of Steven’s brother, Bill.

Chapter 26

The Merrills are vampires, thought Alex wildly.

No time for that now. Get the hell out.

Alex scrambled to his feet as he felt the van lurch and begin to accelerate. For a moment he considered leaping away from Bill, who was slowly turning toward him, regarding him as a cat would a wounded mouse. Alex glanced at the front of the van. Maybe he could take the wheel—but no. There was a roll cage installed, heavy mesh, a single window with metal slats showing him the road outside, which was moonlit. The vampires were driving with no lights.

“Look at you!” Bill said, his face pale, his eyes dilated and icy. “You look like Dracula.”

“Dracula didn’t wear a tux,” Alex recited, backing into the rear corner, grasping for the door handle. If he opened it now he might be able to escape. He’d have to roll, and it wouldn’t be pretty on him or his tuxedo. His hand reached the silver handle and he gave it a yank. For a second it was jammed and he felt the brothers at his back, the static hissing in his brain, and then the handle jerked free and turned. The doors flew open and he grabbed the top of the van, watching the lines on the road whiz by into darkness.

Go. He could do it, just leap, keep his arms over his face. He’d break his elbows, probably. That would hurt. Go. The books his father had given him told him about survival in cases like this and the one piece of advice he could count on was that you had to accept that there will be pain. Pain doesn’t kill. Pain just hurts. So go.

Damn, that was gonna hurt.

“No, no,” said Bill, sounding amused, and as Alex looked back he saw the boy nod at Steven, who leapt like a tiger and snatched him again, sharp claws digging into his collar. He hurled Alex in a second time and Alex felt himself roll along the roof and slam into the mesh cage before crumpling to the floor.

The force shook the van and sent Alex’s head spinning; the van careened for a second and kept moving. The driver, wearing a fetching black cap in the darkness, did not look back.

“Why would you do this?!” Alex roared. Steven took a seat at the bench chair and his attention was caught for a moment by a piece of felt that had been torn from the ceiling as Alex had crashed along it. He clawed at it slowly, as if amazed at the sharpness of his newly reinvigorated nails. So sharp, it cuts anything! Even felt!

Bill slammed the

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