Dracula Unbound by Brian W. Aldiss Read Free Book Online

seemed to scatter behind it, swerving across the Escalante. Only when it burst through mesas did its lights fade. This time it was well away from the line of flags planted during the day, heading north, and some miles distant from the camp.
    Bodenland led the rush for the helicopter. Larry followed and jumped into the pilot’s seat. The others were quickly handed up, Mina with her videocam, Clift last, pulling himself aboard as the craft lifted.
    Larry sent it scudding over the ground, barely clearing the camper roofs as it sped up into the night air.
    â€œSteady,” Kylie said. “This isn’t one of your models, Larry!”
    â€œFaster,” yelled Mina, “or we’ll lose it.”
    But they didn’t. Fast though the ghost train sped, the chopper cut across ground to it. Before they were overhead, Joe was being winched down on the helicopter’s wire ladder, swinging wild as they banked.
    The strange luminous object—dull when seen up close, shaped like a phosphorescent slug—was just below them. Bodenland steadied himself, clasped the wire rope, made to stand on the roof as velocities matched—and his foot went through nothingness.
    He struggled in the dark, cursing. Nothing of substance was below his boots. Whatever it was, it was as untouchable as it was silent.
    Bodenland dangled there, buffeted by wind from the rotors overhead. The enigmatic object tunneled into the night and disappeared.
    The closeup shots of the ghost train were as striking as the experience had been. Figures were revealed—revealed and concealed—sitting like dummies inside what might have been carriages. They were gray, apparently immobile. Confusingly, they were momentarily replaced by glimpses of trees, perhaps of whole forests; but the green flickered by and was gone as soon as it was seen.
    Mina switched the video off.
    â€œAny questions?” she asked flippantly.
    Silence fell.
    â€œMaybe the trees were reflections of something—on the windows, I mean,” Larry said. “Well, no … But trees …”
    â€œIt was like a death train,” Kylie said. “Were those people or corpses? Do you think it could be—No, I don’t know what we saw.”
    â€œWhatever it was, I have to get back to Dallas tomorrow,” Joe said. “With phantom trains and antediluvian bones, you have a lot of explaining to do to someone, Bernie, my friend.”
    Next morning came the parting of ways at St. George Airport. Bodenland and Mina were going back to Dallas, Larry and his bride flying on to their Hawaii hotel. As they said their farewells in the reception lounge, Kylie took Joe’s hand.
    â€œJoe, I’ve been thinking about what happened at Old John. You’ve heard of near-death experiences, of course? I believe we underwent a near-death experience. There’s a connection between what we call the ghost train and that sixty-five-million-year-old grave of Bernard Clift’s. Otherwise it’s too much of a coincidence, right?”
    â€œMm, that makes sense.”
    â€œWell then, the shock of that discovery, the old grave, the feeling of death which prevailed over the whole camp—with vultures drifting around and everything—all that precipitated us into a corporate near-death experience. It took a fairly conventional form for such experiences. A tunnel-like effect, the sense of a journey. The corpses on the train, or whatever they were. Don’t you see, it all fits?”
    â€œNo, I don’t see that anything fits, Kylie, but you’re a darling and interesting girl, and I just hope that Larry takes proper care of you.”
    â€œLike you take care of me, eh, Pop?” Larry said. “I’ll take care of Kylie—and that’s my affair. You take care of your reputation, eh? Watch that this ancient grave of Bernie’s isn’t just a hoax.”
    Bodenland clutched the silver bullet in his pocket and eyed his son