Free Alex Van Helsing by Jason Henderson Page B

as he ran.
    The trees looked unfamiliar in the daylight, but after a while he felt he was reaching the bend where he had left the road, where the caravan had started to pass. Finally he saw the glint of the reflector on Sid’s bike as it lay in the leaves.
    Alex froze. There, leaning against a tree, arms folded, was Sangster, wearing a navy blue jogging suit. “We need to talk,” he said.
    Alex went to the bike and lifted it. “I want in,” he said.
    “What do you mean, ‘in’?” Sangster asked.
    “You showed me pictures of my father. I can do it. I want in.”
    “Are you sure that’s what you need to be doing right now?” Sangster asked. “You’re skilled and you’re lucky, but I gotta admit, I’m worried that you shouldn’t even stay in the area.”
    “What else am I supposed to do?” Alex asked, and he meant the question sincerely. “Even if I wanted to be normal, to lead a normal life—I’ve got these vibrations in my head when I see these—oh, wait, right— monsters. ”
    “And they know you have that,” Sangster said. “I’m willing to bet that the Scholomance got wind that a Van Helsing was in Geneva.”
    “Last night when you guys were checking out my glasses, you were acting like you thought maybe I was spying on you,” said Alex. “Spying for my dad, I guess.”
    “Right.”
    “Why would he want me to do that?”
    “The relationship is complicated,” Sangster said.
    “You gotta understand that’s just not part of what I know of my father. I want to learn about that. I want to learn to do what he did.”
    “Alex,” Sangster said soothingly, “this stuff takes years to learn. And you have years.”
    “Oh, give me a break,” Alex said. Sangster was calling him a kid basically. That was what this was about. Alex was furious. Last night Sangster had sounded ready to hand him a machine gun. “First, I’ve already killed one of those things without any of your training. And second, I can learn to do what you do. You think I can’t ride through trees ?”
    Sangster tilted his head. “I didn’t say I don’t think it will happen. I already told you that. Some day.”
    Alex started rolling the bike. “I have to go. Paul and Sid are waiting.”
    “Be careful on these roads,” Sangster called, adding to Alex’s irritation.
     
    Alex returned the bike and made it to the refectory just as Paul and Sid were getting up from breakfast. Sure enough, there was a crowd of admirers gathered around, who indeed regarded Paul’s scratches and wounds as badges of honor. Alex’s bruises ran up and down his body but were generally invisible, and he felt a twinge of jealousy.
    “How was your walk?” Sid asked. Alex shrugged.
    A hand clapped down on his shoulder from behind. Alex spun, anticipating a fanged demon that would bite his head in half. Close enough. It was Bill Merrill.
    “You didn’t come in last night,” Bill said.
    Behind Alex, Paul and Sid grew serious. Steven Merrill, nursing his own wounds, lingered nearby.
    “I was there,” Alex said evenly. “Don’t you remember?”
    This answer caught Bill by surprise—he was about to respond, then stopped and seemed to chew on it. Get there faster, Bill, thought Alex. Bill looked back at Steven, who pursed his lips.
    “Yeah,” Bill said finally. “Maybe so. But don’t think for a minute we’re done.”
    “Okay,” Alex said.
    Paul made a time-out gesture with his hands. “It’s Saturday, mates. Saturday. For the love of God. Let’s all do something else.”
    Bill and Steven consulted each other and reached an agreement. “See you tonight, roomie ,” said Bill.
    “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Alex said, knowing they were glad to be rid of him. He hoped that would be the end of it.
     
    Alex, Paul, and Sid spent the rest of the day wandering aimlessly about the grounds. After lunch they spent some time on the battlements, sprawled out and reading stacks of Sid’s comics and magazines.
    Alex was reading a