Page 50 of Helsing: Demon Slayer
“Acquired an older model Opel sedan with almost three-quarters of a tank of gas. Got any directions for me?”
“Take the next right onto R425a. You’ll be on that for seven klicks. After that I’ll have to direct you through various turns. It’s approximately a hundred-thirty klicks to the Montenegrin border. Still no local assets to give you an escort, I’m afraid. And I haven’t been able to raise the housekeeper in Shkodër.”
“Once-in-a-lifetime solar tantrum, and everyone’s acting like it’s a snow day,” said Ryan. Dianne snorted next to him.
Ryan turned right onto the route heading south. Buses, trucks, and cars lined the highway as far as the eye could see. Sweaty people milled around them, some trudging along the edge of the road toward Medugorje. In the rearview, he caught a glimpse of a fight breaking out.
It’s started.
“By the way, Demon Slayer,” said Olivia, bringing him back to their situation. “Your system shows a rapid depletion of energy, almost like you atomized severaldaemonlegions.”
“Not quite. Just defibrillated the dead battery.”
“Clever.”
“I aim to please, Aerie Actual.”
“Watch your power reserves, Helsing. We should be able to recharge you remotely once you reach the Albanian border, but until then, you’ll have to survive on your wits and brawn.”
“Good thing I have plenty of both,” he quipped, looking out of the corner of his eye at Dianne, who rolled her eyes.
What Ryan didn’t—and wouldn’t—say was that a sharp ache had returned in his side.
And blood once again seeped into the waist of his pants.
Fourteen
Theycrawledtowardtheborder with Montenegro.
What should have taken a couple of hours on a normal Saturday morning in July took closer to four. Not only was the Bosnian highway not well maintained, a myriad of stopped vehicles blocked its twisting lanes through the mountains. Even if Ryan had stolen an old Jeep or whatever passed for a sport-utility vehicle in this part of the world, it wouldn’t have helped. At least the vehicles had all died at different points along the way. Dianne pretended as Ryan maneuvered the Opel between them that they played a giant game of Tetris.
She was so busy worrying that the few flushed people trudging along the side of the road among the dense vegetation would become aggressive that at first she didn’t notice anything unusual in Ryan’s demeanor. It was only as they drifted toward the end of a long line of vehicles signaling the upcoming border crossing that she recognized the white knuckles and in-drawn breath for what they were, pain and not the tension of the trip.
Her glance darted to Ryan’s set jaw where a pulse flickered before glancing back to his midsection. It was hard to tell given that the black T-shirt he wore didn’t show blood as readily as other colors would have. She couldn’t be certain, but she thought that it looked darker and wetter than it had a couple of hours before.
Pressing her lips together, she closed her eyes briefly and prayed for patience. And divine help. Because she had a feeling that things were about to heat up again.
“There’s a good chance the crossing isn’t staffed,” said Ryan without looking at her.
“Are you going to run it?” she asked.
He glanced at her and back out the windshield as he answered. “Yes. I need you to keep your head on a swivel. These people have been out here more than two hours. Those who could walk home already have. Anyone left is hot, thirsty, and ready to jack a moving car.” He lifted his chin. “Those two guys outside the blue car up there? They’re about to pull us out of ours. We’re not gonna let them.”
“Copy that,” she said, no longer earnest or joking. It just seemed the appropriate response to the man whose leadership was going to keep them alive.
No sooner had she responded than Ryan revved the little European sedan and swerved off the passing lane into the empty northbound lane. Almost at the same time the two men Ryan had identified turned and sprinted for them, their hands clenched and wild expressions on their faces. The man on the passenger side reached the Opel first.
Dianne’s heart lurched, but she remembered at the last moment to flip the door lock even as he grabbed the handle. There was something feral in his eyes as he locked his gaze on her. He actually snarled as the car sped up, forcing him to let the handle go. A moment later, he’d stumbled and fallen, rolling hard on the asphalt.
Ryan, however, hadn’t locked his door. The other man managed to get the driver’s door open and intermittently hung by its handle, his feet flying over the pavement, and clung to the doorframe as they raced toward the first empty border-control booth. As they passed the small structure, Ryan opened the driver’s door wide, smashing the would-be carjacker into it.
Dianne winced at the heavythunkand pained yell that followed. Twisting in her seat, she looked back behind them as the Opel ate up the open highway, free of the line of cars forever waiting in a queue. People streamed across the highway, watching them.
“What will happen to them?” she asked as Ryan swerved the car back into the southbound lane, now clear for the foreseeable distance.
“Some will give up waiting for the power and the police to return and set off on foot for the nearest village or city,” he said, looking into the rearview mirror as he spoke. “The rest will realize that something big is happening. Your guess is as good as mine what anyone would do in this situation. If it were me? I’d head to the nearest store, grab some staples, then head into the wilderness to take my chances. I can survive a lot of time hunting and fishing. Long enough to build a secure shelter from which I can reconnoiter the cities and wait for order to be restored.”
Dianne settled back into the passenger seat. “You’d do that now except for me,” she said, feeling a bit sick at the thought. And scared, for him. She was the one keeping him in danger.
