CHAPTER 6

Homecoming

What happened next Abigail couldn't quite remember. It was all an eddy of thrashing limbs and smoke until cool, clean air hit her face. Someone tore the gas mask from her head and her back collided with something cold and metallic. Several pairs of brusque hands held down her shoulders and legs against their flailing. Above her was a kaleidoscope of harsh lights and those insectile goggles of the gas masks . She screamed, but it seemed to echo far away. There was a sudden sharpness in her neck which brought on a new wave of panic. The image of needle-like fangs was the last thing her consciousness clung to before darkness claimed her.

If Pip's interest in this job wasn't piqued before, he was bloody-well all ears now. Dornez was waiting for him when he returned to the mansion. The old man called for the hospital orderlies to attend to the petite fille, who was deep in sleep after being administered a strong sedative. They rolled her away on a stretcher, and Walter slapped a check in Bernadette's hand. "Don't spend it all in one place," the butler said wryly. Pip's eyes grew wide. There were far and away more zeroes than he had been guaranteed. He looked back at Walter, slack-jawed.

"Your first paycheck-as per our agreement," Walter continued. "And then some, since by now I am sure you are beginning to realize that this job entails far more than what you expected. Consider it an inconvenience fee." Walter took out a cigarette and slipped it between his teeth. He rummaged in his pocket and withdrew a lighter. "There's more where that came from, if you and your crew feel up to the task. This line of work is not for the faint of heart. Now that you've had but a small taste of what our organization does, Integra has offered to terminate your contract and will allow you to leave free and clear if you desire. You will never hear from Hellsing again." The butler blew out a plume of smoke and regarded the mercenary intently. "Or you can stay under our employ and die a very wealthy man."

Pip considered it. He was still trying to wrap his mind around what was going on. The things he had seen tonight resurrected fistfuls of nightmares he thought he'd left behind in the follies of childhood. On the other hand, he had been paid more for tonight's mission than any other single job he'd ever worked. And he could have more. A steady gig. It was really a no-brainer.

"I guess only a fool would refuse an offer like that," Pip grinned and stuck a cigarette of his own in his mouth. "The Wild Geese are tough as nails. We don't scare easily." Walter nodded his understanding and flicked his lighter, igniting the end of the merc's fag.

"Very good, then. But just for courtesy's sake, talk it over with your men. The offer extends to each of them individually." Walter turned on his heels and headed towards the main entrance. "Until then, come. Integra will want a thorough debriefing when Alucard and Miss Victoria return."

For a few blissful moments, Abigail was nowhere and everywhere as if in a dream. Then, slowly, as she took in the overhead lights and those all-too familiar ceiling tiles she realized where she was. The floodgates opened on her memories, crashing down on her like a torrential downpour. Those taunting amber eyes. Those fangs barely breaking the surface of her skin. He mother-

Reflexively, she lashed out. Integra was there to catch her by the wrist.

"It's alright. You're safe now," there was a gentleness in the woman's voice Abigail had never heard from her. "Take a few deep breaths. You've had a rough night."

Abigail sucked down lungfuls of air and once her panic subsided her pinprick vision widened enough to take in the other company in the room. Seras stood to the other side of Integra, looking worried, there was a scarlet slash across her cheek which sent a rivulet of blood down to her jaw. Walter was there too, grave and somber. Behind them both was the other vampire, Alucard. He leaned, arms crossed, in the threshold of the door as though he might lose interest any second and walk away. Abigail wished that he would.

There was another man, off to the side, who Abigail had never seen before. Brown hair, handsome. A vibrant curiosity shown in the eye she could see. The other was hidden behind a strange eye-patch. It gave him a sort of vulgar, unpolished look and she could only guess at what kind of shit he had seen to earn him such a countenance. Furthermore, she wondered if it measured up to the kind of shit she had seen in the last few weeks and was struck by the ridiculous wayward thought that perhaps she too would start wearing an eye-patch, or some other manner of absurd accessory. Maybe it was the only thing to be done when one underwent unspeakable trauma. The absurdity of the thought almost made her giddy.

"I must apologize for bringing you back around so soon." The sound of Integra's sturdy voice brought Abigail back from this reverie, grounding her in reality. "But we could not postpone the debriefing and we thought you ought to be a part of it."

"What happened?" Abigail breathed. Her thoughts were still a jumbled collage in her head. But there was one line of thought more defined than all the rest. "My mother...did you go back for her too?"

Integra hesitated. Something approximating sympathy softened her hard stare. "I understand that this will be difficult for you given the circumstances—"

"Did you go back for her?" Abigail repeated, this time with more heat.

Walter rested a steadying hand on her shoulder. The look on his face was all the answer she needed.

"No," she exhaled sharply.

"We did everything that could be done," Integra assured. "It's a miracle we made it in time to save you. Your mother was already long gone."

Abigail fell back into the mattress, gaze trained on the ceiling without really seeing it. For a long time she couldn't say anything at all. The words were trapped in her throat, all trying to break free at once and creating a bottle-neck which allowed nothing through until finally she managed in a soft voice, "Why is this happening to me? Why is any of this happening?"

"It seems the fiend picked up your scent the night he attacked your campsite at Tamarack Valley and was waiting for the perfect moment to strike again." Alucard's voice sent a shudder down Abigail's spine. "Vampires don't lose interest in their prey. He'll never stop hunting you now."

"Thanks, I gathered that much." The words held more bite than she meant to give them, earning her a dirty look from over the rims of his tinted lenses. She dialed her tone back a notch before continuing. "But in Tamarack he didn't try to d-do—that." She touched where those fangs had scraped against her throat. "He chased me down. But when he finally caught me he didn't want anything beyond—"

"Beyond delivering the message, yes," Alucard interrupted. "I had considered that. At the time, I found it odd that he had left you as a survivor. That's not typical vampire behavior. Then again, this isn't a typical vampire. But it seems he's changed his mind. He's quite determined to have you now."

Abigail propped herself onto her elbows. "He said it was because I was a Hellsing. Why would that matter at all?"

Alucard shrugged. "It's pure, noble blood. There's power in it."

"So, my mother is dead because of the Hellsing name?" Her face darkened. She glowered at Integra. "Is there no end to the horrors your family has in store for me?" The words were laced with ire. "You made me an orphan." Her voice cracked. "Both my parents are dead because of you!"

Integra met her gaze evenly and stayed collected which successfully pissed Abigail off. "It was our mistake," Integra admitted ruefully. "We never should have let you leave the mansion until we had the vampire eradicated. There was always a risk. Not only are you English, but you are family—as much as we're both loathed to admit it. It was my sworn duty to protect you. I'm sorry you and your mother had to suffer for my carelessness."

"Oh, you're sorry?" Abigail laughed humorlessly, eyes bright with tears. "Sorry doesn't even begin to cut it for everything you've put me through."

"You're right," Integra agreed. "But it's the best I can do for right now."

Abigail wasn't satisfied with that answer. Could never be. Her head swam with a myriad of questions, insults, and curses, but the blind rage and sorrow prevented her from sorting through them in any cohesive fashion. Something in her face must have conveyed her nausea because Walter was at her side in an instant with a silver basin for her to empty the contents of her stomach into. Several moments passed before she finished dry-heaving. The rest of the company waited patiently for her to finish. Walter handed her a glass of water, which she accepted graciously. She didn't drink it right away, preferring to hold it in her hands lest she throw it up. It felt good to hold on to something cold and solid.

"You're in still in shock," Integra said at last. "It was wrong of me to wake you up. Perhaps we should wait until the morning to continue this conversation."

Abigail shook her head. "I'm done running from the truth," she took a tentative sip of water. "I'm tired of wading through the dark. I need answers."

Integra nodded. "Don't we all? Very well. Let's get started, then." She turned towards Alucard. "You said this wasn't a typical vampire. What precisely do you mean by that?"

Alucard tilted his head, considering. "For one thing, he is incredibly powerful. Much more advanced than the kind of garbage we're used to disposing of. He has highly sophisticated regeneration skills to rival my own. But mad as a fucking hatter."

"What gave that away, his preying upon innocent children or his dousing my mother in gasoline and setting her on fire?" Abigail challenged scathingly. She didn't flinch when he shot her another dangerous look. She was sick to death of cowering in fear.

Integra quirked a brow at the exchange but otherwise ignored it. Instead, she prompted Alucard to continue.

"I mean he seems utterly removed from reality," he continued, still facing-off with Abigail. After another moment, however, he seemed to grow bored of it and turned to Integra once again. "He believes himself to be a fallen angel dedicated to a holy crusade. An archangel, no less. He calls himself Samael."

Abigail gripped the sheets tightly. Now she had a name for the face.

"Samael," Integra chewed on the named. "My knowledge of Christian demonology is a little rusty but is he not referred to as the angel of death in some Talmudic lore?"

Alucard nodded. "Yes. This vampire is driven by the need to grow his legions under the pretense that vampires are the superior species." He said it like it left a sour taste in his mouth. "He has convinced himself that he is humanity's salvation and that he alone can act as judge and jury. He's picking out the pure and chaste and giving them immortality. A stepping stone to divinity. So wholly does he cling to his convictions that he has fooled himself into believing that he is, in fact, the Angel of Death himself. But of course, it's a load of drivel."

"So, you don't believe him?"

All faces turned towards the unfamiliar man who had stayed silent up until this point. Abigail recognized his voice immediately, the French inflections gave him away. So, this was the man who had carried her out of the house. The man seemed to shrink back from the sudden attention, but his tone was casual and lilting. "I mean, you people make a career out of hunting the supernatural. Hell, you are the supernatural. You're telling me your suspension of belief ends at angels?"

"Mr. Bernadotte, you're new around here so I don't expect you to have the fuzziest idea of what you're talking about," Alucard drawled indulgently. "I have lived a very long time. Never in all my years have I ever caught even a glimpse of the existence of angels. That's not to say that they don't exist simply because I've never seen one. But the likelihood that this petulant, self-righteous creature is a messenger of God is slim to none."

"But Master," Seras chimed in. "There was something strange about him. This wound is shallow. It should have healed by now, don't you think?" She touched just below the slash on her cheek. Alucard nodded.

"I will admit, his weapon did catch me off guard. It was a sword unlike any I've ever seen." He glided forward and gripped Seras' chin to better examine the cut. Abigail noticed a fleeting look of concern cross Mr. Bernadotte's face, curiously mixed with something else. A muscle twitched almost imperceptibly at the corner of his eye when Alucard delivered a single caress of his thumb to his fledgling's cheek. "A wound like this should heal instantly on a vampire. Especially on one of my own. But the blood hasn't even begun to congeal. It just keeps flowing."

"What do you make of it?" Integra asked.

"Possibly a holy weapon imbued with magic to ward off vampires," Alucard conjectured. "Although I pierced him with the blade myself to ultimately no effect."

"So, a vampire wielding a sword to use against other vampires?" Integra mused mostly to herself.

"Or an angel utilizing a Heavenly instrument against the forces of darkness," Walter offered. A slight humor honeyed his voice. "That seems more like our friends at Iscariot's sort of thing."

"Do you think they know anything about this?" Integra asked.

Walter shrugged. "It's difficult to say. The attacks have been localized around the London area. Their neck of the woods has been unaffected. Though it is possible they are at least half-aware of what's been happening. I'm sure they know, for instance, about the attack on Hellsing's headquarters. Though they seem uninterested as they haven't reached out yet."

"Good. Let's keep it that way," Integra intoned. "The last thing we need is for those fanatical lunatics to muddy up this mess further."

"What the bloody hell is Iscariot?" Both Abigail and Mr. Bernadotte asked comically in unison. They caught each other's eye and the man offered Abigail a sheepish grin.

"A thorn in my side," Integra sighed. "But let's stay on topic. I agree with Alucard's assessment that it's far more likely that this thing is a vampire rather than some sort of angel. So, for the time being let's cautiously go forward assuming that's what we're dealing with. We need a way to smoke him out, so that we're not caught unawares again."

"You mean like a trap?" Abigail ventured.

"Precisely like a trap."

"But how?" Abigail asked, exasperated. "He's been one step ahead of you this whole time. There's a bloodthirsty, rapid vampire at large in London with an army of bloody zombies-God only knows how many- and you haven't even the slightest idea of where to look!"

Integra's eyes narrowed to slits. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't question my organization's competence, Miss Wilson. We'll find the beast. We have a pretty good idea of his movements now. Except for his attack on your house, he tends to target institutions filled with children."

"But why kids?" Abigail demanded.

"A human of the opposite sex can only be turned into a vampire if he or she is a virgin," Integra explained. "If this Samael is looking to create a vampire army, targeting girls of a certain age practically guarantees those conditions. Then those vampires can create new vampires, and so on."

"That's fucked up," Mr. Bernadotte muttered, shaking his head. Abigail's heart sank when she thought again of the little girls she chaperoned in Tamarack Valley. Though now she understood why Samael had asked her if she were a virgin. She shivered at the memory.

"Quite," agreed Integra. "So you understand the severity of the problem. But we don't have the time to deliberate any more tonight. It's very late. I think it's best If we all got some sleep. Especially you, Abigail."

"I don't think I could sleep even if I wanted to."

"I'll have the nurses give you another sedative," Integra reassured. The woman started towards the door and beckoned for everyone else to follow her out. They all gave Abigail final lingering glances before taking their leave. Seras was the last one to go. She hesitated in the doorway, as if she had something else to say, but all she offered was a small, comforting smile. Her eyes were big and bright with understanding and then she was gone. Abigail almost called out to her. But before she could the nurses were at her side, administering a liquid to make everything disappear again for a little while. Abigail welcomed the void with open arms.