The Mina Murray Series Bundle, A Dracula Retelling: Books 1-3

by L. D. Goffigan

  The lightness I had just felt quickly vanished, and my body went rigid with defensive tension. His statements echoed the anxieties I already had about marrying Jonathan, but I didn’t want him to know how accurate his musings were.

  “Jonathan’s life will be my life,” I said, turning away from his perceptive gaze. “It will bring me great joy to become his wife. I certainly couldn’t have wandered around Europe conducting experiments forever. Eventually, I was going to have to settle down.”

  “We planned to never settle,” Abe said, his voice so low that I had to strain to hear him. “Remember?”

  I said nothing, but I did remember. Our future was to be dedicated to both travel and research in Father’s field of comparative anatomy—a field we both found immensely fascinating. We were to conduct experiments all over the world and jointly publish our findings. But that was before.

  After Father’s death, I had been so stricken that the thought of resuming my travels and scientific pursuits was too devastating, even with Abe at my side. The life that I had built for myself in London was safe. A refuge. I just wanted to return to it with Jonathan.

  “I’m content with my life back in London,” I said. “I just want to bring Jonathan home.”

  “Content?” Abe pressed.

  “Abe—” I began, exasperated.

  “All I want is your happiness, Mina. That is all I have ever wanted. But I will say nothing more about the matter,” Abe said, looking away from me.

  Seward soon returned, reeking heavily of tobacco, and we passed the time in silence as the train made its way further and further away from Amsterdam, and then south through the German countryside. I tried to read through Greta’s research, but Abe’s words dominated my thoughts, and I was unable to concentrate.

  I excused myself to head to the smoking compartment, and I sensed Abe’s eyes on me as I walked away. I hated the smell of tobacco, but I was restless and needed to move around.

  The smoking compartment was empty when I entered. I remained standing to look out of the windows at the passing countryside. Night had fallen, and the trees outside looked like menacing shadows as the train hurtled past.

  I felt a presence in the compartment behind me, and turned to see Seward enter, his focus also on the passing countryside. He made no move to smoke, which I suspected was for my benefit, and we stood in companionable silence for a lengthy stretch of time.

  “I was born on a farm outside of London. There are times when I miss it—the countryside,” he said finally, his eyes wistfully lingering on a farm as we passed it by. “But I hated it when I was a boy. I just wanted to live in London. My father thought I’d become a farmer like him. I–I still thought he’d be proud when I joined Scotland Yard. When I told my parents, he just said nothing, and my mother wept like a baby. I think they still hope I’ll change my mind and go back to the farm. With what I’ve seen . . . that doesn’t seem like such a mad prospect,” he added gruffly. He tried to give me a light smile, but it was somewhat pained.

  “What we’ve learned is indeed terrifying,” I said. “I think that’s why I was in denial for so long about what was happening. I didn’t want to believe it. Thank you for joining us, Seward,” I added impulsively. “I should have thanked you before. I’m glad you are with us.”

  “I just want to stop these bloody—” he began, abruptly stopping himself. “I’m sorry about the swearing, Mina. I keep forgetting you’re a woman,” he said, and then flushed. “Ah . . . I meant—”

  “It’s quite all right,” I said. “You can swear around me, I won’t disintegrate. Bloody hell, Jesus Christ, devil, damn. There. I’m still standing.”

  Seward looked both astonished and impressed by the oaths, blinking, his eyes wide. I couldn’t stop the smile that curved my lips at the look on his face. This was a man who had seen gruesome dead bodies and vampires feasting on humans, yet the sight of a lady swearing left him stupefied. Seward sheepishly returned my smile, as if reading my thoughts.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. “My intentions were selfish when I first joined the Ripper investigation,” he continued, looking serious now. “I wanted to be the one to solve it and get promoted to first class inspector. Maybe I’m still that boy who wants to make his father proud. Then I saw the murder victims up close . . .” he trailed off, his face going pale at the memory.

  “What made you think the killer wasn’t human?” I asked, lowering my voice, though we were the only ones in the compartment.

  “The way the bodies were drained of blood; the way the killer could just disappear. It seemed impossible to be the work of one—or even several—men. I contacted Abe not long after I had the first suspicions. He’s a bit mad himself,” Seward said, his mouth twitching with the beginnings of a smile. “My police contact in Amsterdam introduced us years ago when Abe consulted on a case. Abe’s always willing to believe the impossible—the mark of a true scientist.”

  As I returned his smile, I froze. I once again felt the terrible and familiar sensation of cold eyes on my skin. I turned away from Seward, stepping forward to scan the carriage beyond the smoking compartment, but there was nothing amiss, and I saw no one looking at us.

  “What?” Seward asked.

  “I sensed it again,” I whispered. “There’s a vampire on the train with us.”

  “How do we search the train for a vampire?” Seward whispered, in a low hiss.

  We had just returned to our seats to inform Abe what I’d sensed. Abe immediately set down his journal, his hand straying to his coat pocket, where I suspected he had stored his weapon.

  “They look human, don’t they? It’s how he’s been able to follow us.” Seward continued, darting a quick glance around at the other passengers, as if to illustrate his point.

  “Even if we could identify the creature, we need to be careful,” Abe whispered. “We do not want to force a confrontation, not with so many bystanders. When we stop in Munich, instead of switching trains, perhaps we can draw him out—somewhere safe and isolated. We can take a later train.”

  “No,” I objected. “We’ve already been delayed enough. If the creature wanted to harm us, it would have happened by now. We’ll have to act like nothing’s amiss, and then force a confrontation when we arrive in Klausenburgh. That way we don’t lose any time.”

  “You both assume he doesn’t want to harm us,” Seward argued. “And how do we know there’s only one?”

  “Even more reason for us to not force a confrontation here,” I said, though I felt a shiver of apprehension at the thought of more than one vampire pursuing us. “We don’t want to risk innocent people being harmed.”

  We agreed to stay close together until the train arrived in Klausenburgh, and to keep our weapons close at hand. Once we disembarked and picked up the shipment of stakes, we would ride out of the city as planned, allowing the creature to follow us until we could surround him.

  When our train arrived at the Munich train station, we tried to keep up the guise that we were unaware of being followed. I subtly studied each passenger as we changed trains, but they all seemed innocuous and most importantly—human.

  I was still on edge when our train departed Munich, wondering why we were being followed, and why the creature had not attacked us yet. Was he waiting for the perfect moment to strike? Was it a mistake to try and confront him in an isolated area?

  I forced myself to concentrate on reading through Father’s journal and Greta’s research notes. When I glanced up sometime later, I saw that Abe had somehow managed to fall asleep, his head resting against the window, his wavy hair falling messily over his forehead as he dozed, his coat spread out on his lap. Abe was a man who lived very much in his mind, and it seemed that the only time his mind was at rest was when he slept. He had once angrily told me that he lost hours of thinking time when he slept, and I smiled at the memory.

  Without thinking, I leaned forward to tuck his coat around him as a makeshift blanket, something I did many times on o
ur previous travels together. The intimacy of the gesture didn’t cross my mind until I found Seward studying me closely. I dropped my hands back into my lap, as if I had been caught stealing, and got to my feet.

  “I’m going to use the lavatory,” I mumbled. At his concerned frown, I gestured towards my sleeve to indicate that I was armed with my kukri.

  I made my way to the lavatory at the rear of the train, nearly colliding with a man who stood up from his seat. I looked up to apologize, but the words died on my lips.

  I recognized him. It was the mysterious man who had rescued us on the Demeter. He was dressed like a traveling businessman, donning a bowler hat and frock coat. His silver eyes flashed with urgency as he looked down at me.

  “What—” I began, astonished.

  “You and your friends need to get off this train,” he interrupted. “Now.”

  “What are—”

  The wheels of the train began to emit a sharp squeal as it slowed down in speed, cutting off my sentence. I dimly realized that the conductor was trying to stop the train.

  “Get to the ground!” the man shouted, as the squealing increased to a great wail, and the walls of the train around us began to rattle.

  The train violently lurched to the side, and I was thrown to the ground by the force. All around me, passengers screamed and cried out in alarm.

  “Find something to hold onto!” the man shouted to both me and the hysterical passengers, reaching out to brace his body on the wall behind him.

  Dazed and horrified, I remained on the ground, reaching out to grip the wall behind me, silently praying that Abe and Seward had taken cover. The carriage began to tilt as the train careened on to its side, the wheels now letting out an ear-splitting howl.

  “Hold on, Mina!” the man shouted. “Hold on!”

  I barely registered my confusion at the man knowing my name; I was too overcome by panic.

  The train was about to derail.

  I continued to hold on to the wall behind me as the train began to veer off the tracks, and the sounds of screams, cries and screeching tires soon faded into silence.

  17

  Massacre

  I awoke to the smell of acrid flames and blood.

  Disoriented, I blinked up at the wide expanse of night sky, my mind temporarily blank. As pained cries began to punctuate the stillness around me, my memories returned with a sudden grim clarity. The mysterious man’s warning. The wheels squealing on the tracks. The keening howl of crushing steel as the train turned on to its side.

  I sat up, crying out at the sharp pain that pierced my lower back as I moved. Wincing, I looked around. We were deep in the countryside, and the now gnarled and twisted train tracks were surrounded on both sides by thick forest.

  Dozens of wounded or dead passengers were strewn all around me. I had been thrown several yards from the train, which mostly lay on its side like a mortally wounded animal. Half of the carriages were completely crumpled and destroyed.

  The surviving passengers looked dazed, numb and horrified. I recognized some of them. The austere businessman, who now lay still on his back several yards away from me, his face streaked with blood. The mother and son, who sat next to the gnarled train tracks, the mother rocking her son, who was sobbing into her bosom, her face pale with shock. The young couple sat next to them; the woman had her paramour’s head in her lap, sobbing. He lay stock still, his open eyes unseeing, blood soaking his shirt.

  As I emerged from my shock, I became chillingly certain that this had been no accident. We were not safe here.

  Grimacing, I forced myself to my feet. My entire body was sore and bruised, my left shoulder and lower back were badly sprained, but that appeared to be the extent of my injuries. I had to find Abe and Seward; we had to somehow get these people to safety.

  “Mina . . .”

  I turned to find the same man who had warned me on the train limping towards me. There was a deep gash etched into the side of his angular jaw, and he looked abjectly relieved to see me. I took a jerky step back at his approach. Though I’d thought that it was a vampire who had been following us, I knew that this man was our mysterious pursuer.

  “You . . . you knew this was going to happen,” I whispered. “You’ve been following us.”

  “Yes,” he said, without hesitation. “I’m Gabriel. There’s no time for me to explain who I am. I don’t know how long it will take for help to arrive, but no one’s safe here. Come.”

  I had no doubt of the truth of his words, but I still hesitated, not quite trusting him. I saw a flicker of impatience in his eyes as he stepped forward, lowering his voice.

  “The train derailment was caused by vampires,” he said bluntly. “They were the ones to twist these tracks. Believe me, they are very near. We must get everyone away from here. Your friends are on the other side of the tracks. One of them is injured. ”

  He turned and limped away without waiting for my response. Though I was still vaguely suspicious of him and his knowledge of vampires, my concern for Abe and Seward outweighed it. I hurried after him, ignoring the sharp ache in my back and shoulder as I moved, and we made our way through the disoriented passengers who stumbled about the wreckage.

  Further ahead, just on the edge of the forest, I spotted Abe and Seward. Seward had Abe propped against a tree, and Abe was eerily still.

  At the sight of him, my fear turned to full-fledged panic and I broke into a run, the pain in my bruised body forgotten as I reached them, sinking to my knees opposite Abe.

  A piece of shrapnel was embedded into Abe’s side, and I pressed my hands to my mouth to stifle a strangled sob when I saw how much blood seeped from his wound, and how still and pale he was. I was taken back to the night I found Father, still and silent, lying in a pool of his own blood. Not again, I screamed in my mind. Not Abe.

  Seward was speaking, but my agitation was so great that I couldn’t make out his words. Ignoring him, I reached out a trembling hand towards Abe’s throat to feel for a pulse.

  My hand froze in mid-air. I could not bear to confirm for certain that he was dead, that I had lost another man I loved. I closed my eyes. Unable to quell my grief, I pressed my hand to my mouth as I began to weep.

  A hand covered mine, and I almost yanked it away, assuming that it was Seward’s.

  “I am not quite dead yet, Mina.”

  The voice was raspy and weak, and my eyes flew open. Abe’s blue eyes were partially open now, focused on me, and though I could tell he was in pain, he gave me one of his easy smiles. The enormous weight of grief lifted from my shoulders; my relief so immense that I nearly began to weep again. I leaned forward to place my hands on his face, my eyes still wet with tears, unable to form any words, still shaken by the possibility of losing him.

  “We need to get something for your wound, and then we need to get everyone out of here,” Gabriel said, his words forcing me back to the present. Abe’s eyes lifted from mine to focus on Gabriel, recognition in his eyes.

  “You . . . you were on the Demeter,” Seward said, frowning at Gabriel in confusion.

  “I’ll explain who I am later. There are abandoned farmhouses just east of here. We can take able-bodied passengers with us to get help, but we must move quickly,” Gabriel said.

  “But Abe’s wound . . . we need to remove the shrapnel,” I said, looking down at the shrapnel still lodged in Abe’s side.

  “No. It needs to stay in. It is holding the wound together,” Abe said, speaking with difficulty. “If you pull it out, I could very well bleed to death. I would need some sort of tourniquet to prevent that from happening.”

  “Then we need to—” Seward began.

  “Quiet,” Gabriel said abruptly, getting to his feet and scanning the surrounding trees. His entire body went rigid, his skin draining of color.

  “What? What is it?” I asked.

  “It’s too late,” he said, briefly closing his eyes.

  I looked at him, dread tearing through my body. I knew who he w
as referring to. What he was referring to. And I could tell by Abe and Seward’s panicked features that they also knew. I thought of the catastrophe on the Demeter and the abductions at the Langham as I took in the frightened and wounded passengers around us. It would be a massacre.

  “Leave me,” Abe rasped, meeting my eyes. “Take as many people with you as you can. I will not be—”

  “Stop it. You know I’m not leaving you,” I said, glaring at him. “We’ll find another way. If we must, we can fight. I have my kukri on me, and your knives are still on the train. If our carriage wasn’t destroyed, then—”

  “Do you have the wolfsbane?” Gabriel asked. Seward, Abe and I looked at him, startled, and I once again felt a tingling suspicion. How did he know we had wolfsbane? “Do you?” he repeated, impatient.

  “Yes,” Seward replied.

  “You won’t be able to fight them off. Your weapons—even your wolfsbane—won’t be enough to hold off a group of vampires this size. You need to get your weapons and move as quickly as you can in that direction,” he said, pointing south through the trees. “There are some farmhouses a couple of kilometers away. You should be able to find bandages for Doctor Van Helsing’s wounds there, but make sure you find a place to hide, and don’t attempt to leave until I come for you. Leave.”

  “What about these people?” Seward asked, gesturing to the helpless passengers around us. “We can’t—”

  “I’ll do what I can for them. Leave,” Gabriel repeated, already moving away from us.

  We watched in dazed amazement as Gabriel raced towards the nearest group of passengers, kneeling down to speak urgently to them. How did he know so much about vampires? About us? Who was he?