by Darren Shan
One more hope struck from the list.
But the conversation made me start thinking. I was sure there must be some way of bettering the odds. Mr. Crepsley's plan — to roam the tunnels and pray we fell upon the vampaneze — was weak. Was there nothing else we could do? No way to prepare a trap and lure Murlough into it?
I focused my immediate thoughts on the search — if we stumbled upon the crazy vampaneze, I didn't want to be caught with my head in the clouds — but devoted the rest to serious thinking.
Something the vampaneze had said was poking away at the back of my brain, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I went back over everything he'd said. We'd talked about Evra and Mr. Crepsley and Debbie and making a deal and…
Debbie.
He'd teased me about her, said he was going to kill her and drink from her. At the time I didn't think it was a serious threat, but the more I thought about it, the more I began to wonder how much he really was interested in her.
He would be hungry, down here in the depths. He was used to feeding regularly. We'd ruined his schedule. He'd said he was looking forward to drinking Evra's blood, but was he? Vampires couldn't drink from snakes and I was willing to bet vampaneze couldn't, either. Maybe Evra's blood would prove to be undrinkable. Maybe Murlough would only be able to kill the snake-boy on Christmas Day, not drink from him as he planned. He'd commented a couple of times on how tasty Debbie looked. Was that a clue that Evra didn't look tasty?
As the time ticked by, thoughts turned over in my head. I didn't say anything when Mr. Crepsley told me we should return to the surface (he had a natural built-in clock), in case Murlough was shadowing us and listening to our every word. I kept quiet as we climbed out of the tunnel and trudged through the streets and then went up to the roofs again. I held my tongue as we snuck through our hotel window and sank into chairs, tired, miserable, and gloomy.
But then, hesitantly, I coughed to attract the vampire's attention. "I think I have a plan," I said, and slowly spelled it out for him.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Jesse answered the phone when I called Debbie's house. I asked if I could speak to her. "You could if she was up." He laughed. "Do you know what time it is?"
I checked my watch: a few minutes before seven A.M. "Oh," I said, crestfallen. "Sorry. I didn't realize. Did I wake you?"
"No," he said. "I have to head into the office, so it's business as usual for me. You just caught me, in fact — I was on my way out the door when the phone rang."
"You're working on Christmas Eve?"
"No rest for the wicked." He laughed. "But I'll only be there a couple of hours. Tying up some loose ends before the Christmas break. I'll be back in plenty of time for dinner. Speaking of which, are we to expect you or not?"
"Yes, please," I said. "That's why I was calling, to say I could come."
"Great!" He sounded genuinely pleased. "How about Evra?"
"Can't make it," I said. "He's still not feeling well."
"Too bad. Listen, do you want me to wake Debbie? I can —"
"That's okay," I said quickly. "Just let her know I'll be there. Two o'clock?"
"Two's fine," Jesse said. "See you later, Darren."
"Bye, Jesse."
I hung up and went straight to bed. My head was still buzzing from all the talking me and Mr. Crepsley had been doing, but I forced my eyes shut and concentrated on sweet thoughts. A few minutes later, my tired body drifted off to sleep and I slept like a baby until one in the afternoon, when the alarm clock went off.
My ribs were aching as I got up, and my stomach was purple and blue with bruises where Murlough had head-butted me. It wasn't too bad after a few minutes of walking around, but I was careful not to make any sudden movements and bent down as little as possible.
I had a good shower, then sprayed deodorant all over myself when I was dry — the smell of the sewers was hard to get rid of. I dressed and picked up a bottle of wine Mr. Crepsley had bought for me to give to Debbie's parents.
I knocked on Debbie's back door as Mr. Crepsley had advised. Donna opened it. "Darren!" she said, kissing me on both cheeks. "Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas," I replied.
"Why didn't you use the front door?" she asked.
"I didn't want to dirty your carpets," I said, scraping my shoes on the mat inside the door. "My shoes are wet from the dirty slush."
"Silly." She smiled. "As if anyone cares about carpets at Christmas. Debbie!" she called upstairs. "There's a handsome pirate here to see you."
"Hi," Debbie said, coming down the stairs. She kissed me on both cheeks as well. "Dad told me you called. What's in the bag?"
I pulled out the bottle of wine. "For your parents," I said. "My dad gave it to me to bring over."
"Oh, Darren, that's sweet," said Donna. She took the wine and called to Jesse, "Look what Darren brought."
"Ah! Vino!" Jesse's eyes lit up. "Better than the wine we bought. We invited the right man over. We should have him around more often. Where's the corkscrew?"
"Wait awhile." Donna laughed. "Dinner isn't ready yet. I'll stick it in the fridge. You head for the living room. I'll yell when it's time."
We ate some cheese and crackers while we were waiting, and Debbie asked me if my dad had decided about moving on yet. I said he had, and that we were leaving tonight.
"Tonight?" She looked dismayed. "Nobody travels anywhere except home on Christmas Eve. I should go over to that hotel, drag him out, and —"
"That's where we're going," I interrupted. "Home. Mom and Dad are getting together again, just for Christmas Day, to give Evra and me a treat. It's supposed to be a surprise, but I heard him on the phone this morning. That's why I called so early — I was excited."
"Oh." I could tell Debbie was upset by the news, but she put on a brave face. "That's great. I bet it's the best present you could have hoped for. Maybe they'll patch things up and get back together for good."
"Maybe," I said.
"So this is your last afternoon together," Jesse remarked. "Fate has driven the young romantics apart."
"Da-a-a-ad!" Debbie moaned, punching him. "Don't say things like that! It's embarrassing!"
"That's what fathers are for." Jesse grinned. "It's our job to embarrass our daughters in front of boyfriends."
Debbie scowled at him, but I could see she was enjoying the attention.
The meal was delicious. Donna had put all her years of expertise to great use. The turkey and ham practically melted in my mouth. The roasted potatoes were crisp and the turnip was sweet as candy. Everything looked fantastic and tasted even better.
Jesse told a few jokes that had us all in stitches, and Donna did her party trick: balancing a roll on her nose. Debbie took a mouthful of water and gargled her way through "Silent Night." Then it was my turn to do a little entertaining.
"This meal is so good." I sighed. "I could even eat the cutlery." While everybody laughed, I picked up a spoon, bit off the head, chewed it into tiny pieces, and swallowed.
Three pairs of eyes practically popped out of their sockets.
"How did you do that?" Debbie squealed.
"You pick up more than dust when you're on the road," I said, winking at her.
"It was a fake spoon!" Jesse roared. "He's putting us on."
"Give me yours," I told him. He hesitated, tested his spoon to make sure it was real, then passed it over. It didn't take long to gulp it down, my tough vampire teeth making quick work of it.
"That's incredible!" Jesse gasped, clapping wildly. "Let's try a ladle."
"Hold it!" Donna yelled as Jesse reached across the table. "These are part of a set and hard to replace. You'll be letting him loose on my grandmother's good china next."
"Why not?" Jesse said. "I never really liked those old plates."
"Watch it," Donna warned, tweaking his nose, "or I'll make you eat the plates."
Debbie was smiling, and she leaned over to squeeze my hand.
"I feel thirsty after those
spoons," I joked, rising to my feet. "I think it's time for the wine now." I paused. "Is it okay for Debbie and me to have some wine?"
Donna hesitated, but Jesse smiled and said, "Come on, Donna — it's Christmas!"
"Well… okay." Donna sighed. "But just this once." She looked up at me. "Do you want me to open the bottle?" she asked, getting up.
"On second thought, not at all," I said, gently pushing her back down. "You've been serving all afternoon. It's time someone waited on you for a change."
"Hear that?" Donna beamed at the other two. "I think I'll exchange Debbie for Darren. He'd be much more useful to have around."
"That's it!" Debbie snorted. "No presents for you tomorrow!"
I was smiling to myself as I grabbed the wine from the fridge and peeled back the tinfoil from the top. The corkscrew was in the sink. I rinsed it, then opened the bottle. I sniffed — I didn't know much about wine, but it certainly smelled nice — and found four clean glasses. I went through my pockets for a couple of seconds, then fiddled with three of the glasses. Next I poured the wine and returned to the table.
"Hurray!" Jesse shouted when he saw me coming.
"What took you so long?" Debbie asked. "We were about to send a search party to look for you."
"Took me a while to get the cork out," I said. "I'm not used to it."
"You should have just bitten the top off," Jesse joked.
"I didn't think of that," I said seriously. "I'll do it next time. Thanks for the advice."
Jesse stared at me uncertainly. "You almost had me going!" He laughed suddenly, shaking a finger. "You almost had me going!"
His repetition reminded me momentarily of Murlough, but I quickly put all thoughts of the vampaneze out of my mind and raised my glass.
"A toast," I declared. "To the Hemlocks. Their name might be poison, but their hospitality is first class. Cheers!" I'd rehearsed the toast earlier, and it came out as well as I'd hoped. They groaned, then laughed and raised their glasses, clinking them against mine.
"Cheers," Debbie said.
"Cheers," Donna added.
"Bottoms up!" Jesse chuckled.
And we took a sip.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Late on Christmas Eve. Down in the tunnels.
We'd been searching for a couple of hours, but it felt longer. We were sweating and covered with dirt, our feet and pants soaked through with filthy water. We were moving as fast as we could, making a lot of noise in the process. My ribs hurt to begin with, but I was over the worst of it now and barely noticed the stabbing pain as I bent and crouched down and twisted.
"Slow down!" Mr. Crepsley hissed several times. "He will hear us if you keep this up. We must be more careful."
"To hell with being careful!" I yelled back. "This is our last chance to find him. We've got to cover as much ground as possible. I don't care how much noise we make."
"But if Murlough hears us —" Mr. Crepsley began.
"We'll chop off his head and stuff it with garlic!" I snarled, and moved ahead even faster, making still more noise.
Soon we reached a particularly large tunnel. The water level was higher in most of the tunnels than it had been the night before, because of the melting snow on the ground, but this one was dry. Maybe it was an emergency pipe, in case the others overflowed.
"We will rest here," Mr. Crepsley said, collapsing. The search was harder for him than for me, since he was taller and had to bend more.
"We don't have time for a rest," I snapped. "Do you think Murlough is resting?"
"Darren, you must calm down," Mr. Crepsley said. "I understand your agitation, but we cannot help Evra by panicking. You are tired, as am I. A few minutes will make no difference, one way or the other."
"You don't care, do you?" I whined. "Evra's down here somewhere, being tormented or cooked, and all you're worried about are your tired old legs."
"They are old," Mr. Crepsley growled, "and they are tired, and so, I am sure, are yours. Sit down and stop acting like a child. If we are destined to find Evra, we shall. If not…"
I snarled hatefully at the vampire and stepped in front of him. "Give me that flashlight," I said, trying to rip it out of his hands. I'd dropped mine earlier and broken it. "I'll go on ahead by myself. You sit here and rest. I'll find Evra on my own."
"Stop it," Mr. Crepsley said, pushing me away. "You are behaving intolerably. Calm down and —"
I gave a ferocious tug and the flashlight flew out of Mr. Crepsley's hands. It also spun out of mine, and shattered to pieces against the tunnel wall. We were thrust into complete darkness.
"You idiot!" Mr. Crepsley roared. "Now we will have to go back up and find a replacement. You have cost us time. I told you something like this would happen."
"Shut up!" I shouted, shoving the vampire in the chest. He fell down hard, and I backed away blindly.
"Darren!" Mr. Crepsley shouted. "What are you doing?"
"Going to find Evra," I said.
"You cannot! Not by yourself! Come back and help me up: I have twisted my ankle. We will return with stronger flashlights and work faster. You cannot search without a light."
"I can hear," I replied. "And I can feel. And I can shout. Evra!" I yelled, to prove my point. "Evra! Where are you? It's me!"
"Stop! Murlough will hear. Come back and keep quiet!"
I heard the vampire scrambling to his feet. Taking a deep breath, I ran. I fled far into the tunnel, then slowed and found a small pipe leading out of the large one. I slipped into it and crawled. Mr. Crepsley's shouts grew dimmer and dimmer. Then I came to another pipe and scurried down it. Then another. And another. Within five minutes, I'd lost the vampire.
I was alone. In the dark. Underground.
I shivered, then reminded myself why I was there and what was at stake. I looked around for a larger tunnel, feeling my way with my fingers.
"Evra," I called softly. I cleared my throat and this time yelled, "Evra! It's me! Darren! Can you hear? I'm coming to find you. Yell if you can hear me. Evra. Evra? Evra!"
Shouting and calling, I moved forward, hands outstretched, ears straining for any sound, eyes useless — a perfect target for all the demons of the dark.
I'm not sure how long I was down there. There was no way of telling time in the tunnels. I had no sense of direction, either. I might have been going in circles. I just moved forward, calling Evra's name, scraping my hands on the walls, feeling my feet and lower legs turn numb from the damp and cold.
Sometimes a draft of air tickled my nostrils, a reminder of the world above. I moved fast whenever I felt the air, afraid of losing my nerve if I stopped to breathe it in.
I was moving downward, getting deeper into the system of pipes and tunnels. I wondered how many people had been down here over the years. Not many. In some of the older pipes, I might be the first human (half-human) to pass in decades. If I'd had time, I would have stopped to scrawl my initials on the walls.
"Evra! Can you hear me? Evra!" I repeated.
There'd been no response so far. I wasn't really expecting one. If I did stumble upon Murlough's lair, it was a pretty sure thing he would have taped up Evra's mouth. The vampaneze wasn't the sort to overlook a minor detail like that.
"Evra!" I croaked, my voice beginning to crack from the strain. "Are you there? Can you —"
All of a sudden, with no warning, a hand jammed hard into my back and sent me crashing to the floor. I gave a yell of pain and rolled over, gazing blindly into the pitch-black depths.
"Who's there?" I asked shakily. A dry chuckle answered me. "Who is that?" I gasped. "Mr. Crepsley? Is that you? Did you follow me down? Is it —"
"No," Murlough whispered in my ear. "It's not." He flicked on a flashlight directly in front of my eyes.
The light was blinding. I gasped and shut my eyes, all thoughts of defending myself forgotten. It was what the vampaneze had been waiting for. Before I could react, he ducked forward, opened his mouth, and breathed on me… the breath of the undead…
the gas that knocks people out.
I tried drawing back, but it was too late. The gas was in me. It raced up my nostrils and down my throat, flooding my lungs, forcing me to double over, coughing fitfully.
The last thing I remember was falling forward, Murlough's bare purple feet growing larger as I dropped toward them.
And then… nothing. Just black.
CHAPER TWENTY-ONE
When I came to, I found myself face to face with a skull. Not any old skull, either — this still had flesh on it, and one of the eyeballs was floating in its socket.
I screamed and tried pulling away, but I couldn't. Looking up ( up? Why wasn't I looking down?) at my body, I realized I was bound tightly with ropes. After a few seconds of puzzled panic, I noticed another rope around my ankles, and it dawned on me that I was hanging upside down.
"I bet the world looks different from there, hmmm?" Murlough said. Twisting around — I couldn't move my limbs, but I could swing around — I saw him sitting a little ways from the skull, chewing on a fingernail. He stuck out a foot and began rocking the skull. "Say hello to Evra," he chuckled.
"No!" I screamed, swinging forward, baring my teeth, trying to bite deep into his leg. Unfortunately, the rope wouldn't stretch that far. "You promised you wouldn't kill him before Christmas!" I cried.
"You mean it isn't Christmas?" Murlough asked innocently. "Whoops! Sorry. Bit of a boo-boo, hmmm?"
"I'll kill you," I swore. "I'm going to —"
A groan stopped me short. Turning, I noticed I wasn't alone. Somebody else was strung upside down, a couple of feet away.
"Who's that?" I asked, certain it was Mr. Crepsley. "Who's there?"
"D-D-D-Darren?" a tiny voice said.
"Evra?" I gasped with disbelief.
Murlough laughed and flicked on a bright light. It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the light. When they did, I was able to make out the familiar shape and features of the snake-boy. He looked hungry, exhausted, and scared — but he was alive.
Evra was alive!
"Fooled you, didn't I?" Murlough giggled, shuffling closer.
