Chapter Thirty-Three: End
That at last the game is done
With my last breath the day is won
A very long time ago, Carl had attempted to explain to Van Helsing what life was about. The monster hunter had been jaded by his endless missions of destruction, and— this was before Anna— insisted that he had never known love.
"My friend, you— and I say this in the best, most well-meaning way possible— are a fool. To live is to love. Your regard for life, even if it is only your own, is often the greatest love you will ever have. It is when you find a love greater even than that, that you are willing to give up all else for it. Even life is as nothing when compared with that love." Carl peered out the window. "Love like that is like a cosmic cry, bouncing around the stars."
Now, a wordless shout of rage echoed around the valley outside, as Tamerlaine cannoned into Simon's body and knocked him to the floor.
Van Helsing, breathless, found his way into the room in time to see her standing over Simon, the gun held less than a foot away from his unblinking eyes.
"I heard a shot," said Van Helsing.
"Take the gun!" she cried, thrusting it at him, and raced to Carl, who lay on the ground.
Carl sat up, ashen-faced. Tamerlaine supported him, arms around him. Van Helsing watched Simon— a look of such venom crossed the prone man's face that he took a step back.
"Are you alright?"
"It hit my leg," wheezed Carl. "Winged it, I think. Just a flesh wound."
Tamerlaine buried her face in his shoulder. "Thank God," she said, weeping. "Thank God."
"You're getting blood on my neck, dearest. Are you alright?"
"Fine, just a cut."
Another shockwave ran through the room and Van Helsing leapt alert. "What is that?"
"My uncle is in the back, with Carl's invention," said Tamerlaine briefly.
"Ah." Van Helsing examined the gun Tamerlaine had taken from Simon. It was empty and he threw it on the ground and stared at Simon.
"Did you hit Tamerlaine?" he demanded. Simon smiled very slightly and spat at his feet. Van Helsing looked at him in utter disgust, leaned down and picked him up.
"I've been looking forward to this," he said, and drove his fist into Simon's stomach. Simon gasped out all the oxygen in his lungs and folded over. Van Helsing let him go and assisted Carl to his feet.
"Lets go get your uncle, Tamerlaine."
"Wait a second, wait a second," gasped Carl, hopping on his good leg. He flung an arm around Tamerlaine, hopped over to Simon.
"All my life I've been taught never to kick a good man when he's down," he said, through his teeth. "They never said anything about what to do to a bad man."
Gingerly he rested his weight on his bad leg, pulled back his good one, and delivered a hefty kick to Simon's ribs. Almost immediately he sagged, bearing down on Tamerlaine until Van Helsing came and hoisted him back up.
"What is it?"
"I think I've broken my bloody toe," said Carl.
"Poor Carl—" said Tamerlaine sympathetically.
"But I feel wonderful," said Carl, and grinned determinedly. "Now can we finish this job?"
Van Helsing gave him back to Tamerlaine and found the door leading out.
Outside, the sun was shining. It shone on the rubble strewn across the landscape. It shone on the odd contraption set up on the edge of the cliff. It shone on the face of Sir Edward Gentle.
Van Helsing stood still and gazed at the face of the man he'd come in search of.
It was a handsome and distinguished face, lined with sixty-odd years of slight smiles. It was the innocent joviality of it that was frightening— he looked like someone's grandfather gone horrible wrong. He stared at the three of them with a glint in his eye.
The mouth of Carl's machine stared at them too. It looked almost more human.
"Come forward, my friends," said Edward Gentle, raising one hand and beckoning. "I've been anticipating our meeting. Ah, dear Tamerlaine— so sorry you found out about all this."
"I'll bet you are," she said tightly. Glancing at her, Carl could see the pulse jumping in her neck.
Edward's gaze slid from her and lighted on Carl. "And— could that be young Carl Hampton? My, how you've changed."
Carl gritted his teeth. Edward's gaze flicked down to his bloody leg and he smiled.
"Haven't opened up old wounds, have you?" he enquired softly. He jibe was clear and under his arm Carl felt Tamerlaine tense up. But Edward's gaze slipped on.
He stared coolly at the tall, motionless figure of Van Helsing.
"And you are Gabriel Van Helsing, the renowned monster hunter. We have not met, but since I first heard your name I have done some— research into your background. I have heard some stories that were, quite frankly— unbelievable."
"Feel free to believe them all," said Van Helsing through his teeth.
"Including Jekyll and Hyde? Masterson the Wizard? Morte Coronis, the banshee? Dracula? Come now, Gabriel."
"I get around."
"So I see." Edward Gentle's sweet blue eyes looked past him. "Ah, Simon. Problem?"
"Broken rib," said Simon, limping and grinning like a maniac.
"Oh dear. Come here."
Simon approached him and stood to one side, out of the path of the machine. "Before you kill Mr. Hampton, I'd like a little private time with him."
"We shall see."
Tamerlaine gripped Carl tighter. "If you think I'm letting go, you've got another think coming. How could you do all these things, uncle? You murdered my father, ruined my mother's life, you killed all those people, and for what?"
"I just wanted to rule the world," said Edward Gentle, smiling mildly. "Is that so bad?"
Tamerlaine stared hard at him. "Then why not kill me as well?" she asked. "Instead of making my life hell on earth and forcing me to keep on living it?"
"Up until now," said Edward, "my love for you, my only child, has never been provoked beyond what it can bear. But now, I'm afraid—"
From his waist he pulled two pistols, pearl-handled, his initials engraved on the sides. There came from the throats of both Carl and Simon identical cries of alarm— while Edward was distracted, Van Helsing too brandished his pistols, aiming them and Simon and Edward.
"Well well well," said the older man, smiling at him. "If it isn't a good old-fashioned stand-off. I must tell, you— may I call you Gabriel? I don't intend to die for a good long time. Obviously at the moment you would disagree with that sentiment. Somehow I doubt that I could win you over with an appeal to your material sensibilities— and so my proposition is this." With a slight movement he shifted the path of one pistol from Van Helsing to Carl. "In ten minutes time the authorities will arrive, prepared to take into custody a dangerous killer who, up until recently, was presumed dead. Namely, my lovely relative, Tamerlaine. What they may find, if everything goes wrong, is four dead bodies, and one man, a Mr. Van Helsing who, as I've heard, is now wanted in at least seven different countries for repeated acts of murder." His smile sharpened. "Think about it, dear Gabriel. You may protest your innocence, but with no one else alive to corroborate your story, why should not everyone denounce you for the monster that you are?"
The shock and pain on Van Helsing's face clearly delighted him, for he laughed.
"Yes, I heard about the— hairier aspects of our Transylvanian adventures. Transformation into an ungodly specimen of creation? The murder of your beloved while thus altered? Classic stuff, Gabriel. Truly one for the history books. That is your future. But, on the other hand, if events unfold more to my liking—" He cocked the pistols aimed at Tamerlaine and Carl. "Allow me to dispose of these two, and even Simon if you insist. And then I will proclaim you a hero to all. You will be redeemed, you can leave behind that life of self-sacrifice and forbearance and murder— come back to England for good. Start over. I cannot offer you your true past, Gabriel, but I can give you a chance to make your own." He paused and watched Van Helsing expectantly, eyes bright.
Van Helsing shook his head slightly. "If you had done more research, you would know what my response would be."
"Meaning no?" The smile intensified. "Allow me to give you incentive to make— the correct decision."
His finger tightened on the trigger of the gun pointed at Tamerlaine.
Time appeared to slow down, allowing Carl to sense a repeat of the events that happened just a few minutes ago. With absolute silence, Simon ran for Edward, feet pounding the ground, arms outstretched, mouth open, eyes wide. As the gun went off he crashed into him, knocking him backwards.
For a moment they danced on the edge of the cliff, fumbling for a foothold that would lead them back to safety.
Not too far away, Van Helsing pursed his lips and blew lightly at them.
They tumbled over the edge, their hands locked to each other's arms, Simon still silent, Edward screaming; an awful, inhuman sound, the sound of evil getting its due.
Van Helsing raced for the edge; Carl and Tamerlaine followed more slowly, Carl limping and Tamerlaine shaky. The bullet had gone into the ground not half an inch from her.
They peered over the edge.
"He should have known," Van Helsing said heavily, "never to have the final act on the edge of a cliff."
Behind them the machine went off, collapsing Tamerlaine's ancestral home, wherein she had spent childhood summers and her father had died. Rather shell-shocked, they turned and gaped at it.
"I'm ready to go home now," said Carl, and fainted.
I was going to let you all stew for a while, but I quick updated.... because I care! That should be a bumper sticker.
Not over, really! Another finish-up chapter is on the way, so now would be the time for any lingering questions and doubts. But, hah! Did people actually think I'd kill Carl? Haven't we been over this before? Really I was delighted with the response to the last chapter, though... nice to know I've actually got to people so they care about my (stolen) characters. Thanks much.
A quick question, everyone... the actual novel that I'm working on right now is a very dark, Neil-Gaiman-ish fantasy. I'm thinking of posting it piece by piece on ff's sister site, fiction. Any of you think you would read it? I've posted things on there before and didn't really get any reaction, which is very disappointing. So I wondered if I'd have an audience if I let my ff reviewers know about it. Question mark?
OhTheConfusion (aka HomicidalChild) good guesses! You got pretty close, see?
MariAmber, sorry, but I love doing cliffhangers because of the reaction I get from them. It shows whether or not I'm actually involving my audience on an emotional level. Some I even do as an experiment, but this one was planned from a long time ago.
And to bloodredcherry, Great to have another new reader! Yeah, everything that can be construed as funny, was intended to be funny. At least, that's what I'm going to say. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.