Van Helsing Rising - Helen Scott Page 0,2

list though. They could be anything and without proof either way, we have three choices: leave them here to rot, kill them, or take them with us. I slip my phone from my pocket and fire off a text to our president.

Captives found. Status unknown. How would you like us to proceed?

He must have been waiting for us to check in because he responds almost immediately. Bring them to the club house. We will hold them here until we know what they are.

Confirmed.

Great. Now one of us will have to ride back in a cage with Crash. The hard drives could have been shoved in our saddle bags, but people? Not so much. At least we brought it with us though, or this would have been a logistical nightmare. I begin looking in each prison cell more thoroughly and find a few men and a woman. They all look a little worse for wear, but that could just be because they are being kept prisoner. It’s the last cell that catches my eye.

The woman who is unconscious on the bed has ashy-white hair. I've never seen the color on anyone before, and judging from her eyebrows, it’s natural. Her eyes are closed but she seems to be breathing okay, and there’s no way someone could just sleep through what had just happened, so I know she has to be knocked out somehow. My eyes drift down to her lush lips that look pouty even in sleep and a lithe body that is sinful just to look at.

I tear my gaze away. Distractions like that are dangerous. The last cell on the other side is a man almost as dark as she is fair, except for his pasty skin. Six prisoners to transport, along with whatever evidence we can gather from here. I don't like it, but those are the Prez's orders so that's what we will do.

"Crash, take what you've got and go get the cage. We need handcuffs for each prisoner; they are all coming back with us. Dragon, Phoenix, get these doors open while I keep looking for anything useful. Let's get this done quickly since we don't know when or if these people will wake up, or what we are dealing with."

Three nods respond to me before Crash disappears out of the door with an armful of tablets and various computer bits and pieces. I walk over to the closest body and toe it over so the man is facing up. His face is similar to the half shifted wolf outside, except he’s more feline in his features. His badge reads Dr. Clauberg. What was he doing? The questions only seem to mount as I walk around the room.

Eventually, I find the man we've been tailing that led us here. His badge reads Dr. Mengele. That can’t be right. One coincidence I'm willing to overlook, but two? Not to mention the names of the Nazi doctors were well known enough that these had to be fakes. Right? I'd need to confirm as soon as we got back to the clubhouse that neither of the doctors had been suspected of being supes and that they were, in fact, dead.

Just to be on the safe side, I pull my phone out from the pocket in my tactical vest and snap a photo of the two doctors, making sure to get their name badges in frame. Knowing the guys, if I start spouting conspiracy theories about Nazi doctors without proof they’ll laugh their asses off.

A chill goes down my spine as their names circle the questions in my head. Are all these people experiments? I hope one of them wakes up soon and is willing to talk, but not until we get back. As though my thoughts summon him, Crash appears with a plethora of handcuffs hanging from his fingers.

"Who wants to get kinky?" he asks with a wink.

2

Dragon

I sit in the back of the van, guarding the victims in cages. The cloth in my hand slides along my gun, cleaning it as I study the bodies we’d found in that fucked-up “research” facility. I honestly don’t know why we took these flesh bags with us. It seems it would’ve been a mercy to kill most of them. With two exceptions. There is some massive guy, who could easily be one of us, and a blonde goddess, who might just live. But the rest of them? They are a bunch of thin, sickly, half-dead creatures.

Orders are orders though.

Most of them