Alex Van Helsing Voice of the Undead - By Jason Henderson Page 0,8
the two hundred students of Glenarvon Academy onto the buses and getting them away from the academy itself, now soaked and smouldering.
From the back of his bus, Alex turned and watched out the glass window as the school gave off plumes of smoke. The entire upper story of the main house—where all the bedrooms were—was a wreck.
Alex realized that not listening to his own mind had done himself and his school a lot of damage. If he’d only noticed the worm in his jacket before he got back to the school . . . He had felt jittery when he got back and hadn’t listened to the feeling. He had ruined everything.
The bus was full of chattering students borrowing one another’s cell phones and calling America and Germany and Canada and the United Arab Emirates. Alex heard the phrase going home time and again.
Alex needed to call his own home, but he had left his cell in the saddlebags of his motorcycle in the trees across from the school, and the Polidorium Bluetooth was useful only for calling within and through the organization. After Paul had finished calling London, Alex borrowed his phone and called his family in Wyoming, where it was about four forty-five P.M.
His sister Ronnie answered. When she heard his voice, her first words were “Why are you calling from London?”
Alex scrunched back into the seat, looking at Paul. “What?”
“Your country code came in as London.”
“I’m borrowing a cell phone.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked. Ronnie was twelve, Alex’s closest friend in the world before he had left for one boarding school and then another. In the background he heard deafening music—classic rock, sounded like. She had to be in her room, tucked in the converted attic of a shambling Victorian monster that housed his parents and his four sisters. He could picture her, wavy black hair tucked into a wool cap, denim jacket. She was forever bundled up and guarded.
“It’s a long story,” Alex said, trying to sound serious but calm. “There’s been an . . . are Mom and Dad home?”
“There’s a thing at the university,” Ronnie said. “Dad was actually wearing a bow tie. You can catch Mom on her cell if . . .”
There was a sharp click and he heard a second voice, also female. “Who’s calling from London?” demanded Judith, who was fourteen and Alex’s fraternal twin. The Sony cordless phones in the house had caller ID on every handset, so she was curious. That and she was nosy.
“NO ONE,” Alex and Ronnie said immediately.
“Alex?” Judith snorted. “What did you do?”
“Why would you even say that?” Alex demanded.
“Because you usually call on Sundays and you’re not using your own phone,” Judith said evenly. She had her own soundtrack behind her, pulsating trip-hop and the persistent mechanical roar of a treadmill that was dwindling to a hum. She must be in the cavernous den of the house. Alex could picture her as well, probably in sleek Adidas sportswear, blond hair perfect and flowing, a picture of his mother.
Behind Judith, Alex could hear his little sisters, Frankie, who was ten, and Bobbi, who was eight, and the sounds of dishes being put down; this would be right off the den. “Is that Alex?” Bobbi shouted.
“You keep setting the table,” Judith ordered.
“Judith would like to inform you that she is in charge,” Ronnie said wryly.
“Which is why you’re hiding out in your room?” Alex asked.
“What did you do?” Judith demanded again. “If Dad has to find another school to take you in . . .”
Ugh. She was just trying to goad him into fessing up to something, and there was nothing to fess up to. He chose to ignore the question. “There’s no emergency right now,” he said. “There’s been an incident, a fire, so we’re going somewhere else for the night. I don’t know where. Just tell Mom and Dad I’ll call when I get the chance.”
“Have you been arrested?” Judith asked.
“Seriously, what is the matter with you?” Alex asked his twin. She had always been like this, a mental jujitsu artist, always pushing, then tugging, twisting, and trying to get you off balance.
“Whatever,” Judith said. “I’ll tell them you called. Ronnie, I know eating is important to you, so if you plan to join us I’ll keep a place set for five minutes after the rest of us sit down.”
“Don’t you have a run to finish?” Ronnie asked. “Good-bye, Judith.” After a moment they could hear Judith snort derisively and hang up.