Brian Helsing: The World's Unlikeliest Vampire Hunter. Mission #3: Howlin' Mad by Gareth K Pengelly

Author:Gareth K Pengelly [Pengelly, Gareth K]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-01-10T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven:

Who Let The Dogs Out?

Neil played with the now-freed sheep, throwing sticks for it to fetch. Fetch them it wouldn’t, instead simply standing and staring, alternately up at him, then the sticks, before sauntering off in search of grass to eat, as was a sheep’s wont. Brian, Scylla and Aaron leant up against the car, eyeing the large front door of the barn with suspicion.

“How long since the hubbub stopped?” Scylla asked. “It’s been quiet for what seems like ages.”

Neil sauntered over, gazing down at the expensive watch on his wrist.

“About fifteen minutes now.”

“Reckon that’ll be long enough?” Brian asked Aaron.

“I… I think so, yeah,” the hippy shrugged. “Doesn’t usually take long, once we’ve eaten. They should all hopefully be back to normal now.”

The four stared at each other for a moment, before Brian sighed.

“Right, might as well get on with it then. Let’s do it. Neil, you get in the car, cover us with the Punisher just in case things go awry. Scylla, you’re with me. Aaron, just… stay out of harm’s way.”

His companions did as he bade as Brian slowly, cautiously made his way towards the barn door, Scylla beside him. Behind him, as he walked, the bonnet of the Camaro whined, a panel in the centre of the hood sliding to reveal a gap, from which the huge, three-barrelled shape of the Punisher rose, darting left and right like a fifty-calibre dog straining at a leash. Neil nodded his readiness from the controls within the car as Aaron paled and shivered with apprehension beside him.

“You ready?” Scylla asked him as the pair reached the door.

“As I’ll ever be,” Brian replied. “Which means not at all. So let’s get it over with.”

Between the two of them they hoisted the heavy iron bar and cast it to one side with a clang. Slowly, slowly, Brian reached for the handle and pulled the barn door open towards them. Silence greeted them. Silence, and smells, a powerful aroma washing out from the darkness; a heady and nauseating mixture of wet dog, cannabis, patchouli oil. And something else, too. Something that didn’t belong, something sweet and flowery and far too familiar.

“That was a cheap trick, Helsing,” came a low hiss from seemingly nowhere. Suddenly, the empty air but a few paces before them began to coalesce into a shape, feminine, familiar and entirely pissed off. “Even invisibility doesn’t help much against their ridiculous sense of smell. After fifteen minutes of constant moving from cover to cover, I’ve built up quite the thirst. Unfortunately,” Cassandra began, pausing as a chorus of low, reverberating growls began to build up from behind her, “I don’t think I’m first in line at the buffet. Therefore I shall leave you to be hoisted by your own petard. Au revoir, Helsing,” she laughed. “And good luck.”

With that, the vampire vanished, rushing past them in a blur, leaving the duo standing, perplexed, as the sounds of low, hungry growling grew nearer and nearer.

“Brian,” Scylla whispered, as huge shapes and glowing, yellow eyes began to manifest in the gloomy interior of the barn.

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