by Darren Shan
“You were trying to get me to drink!” I screamed. “You have to,” Mr. Crepsley said. “You are wasting away, Darren. If you go on like this, you will be dead within a week. If you do not have the courage to drink, it must be forced into you.”
I stared at him savagely. He looked uncomfortable and turned his eyes away from mine.
“I was trying to help,” he said.
“If you ever try that again,” I said slowly, “I’ll kill you. I’ll wait until day, then creep in and chop your head off.”
He could tell I was serious, because he nodded glumly.
“Never again,” he agreed. “I knew it would not work, but I had to try. If you had swallowed even a little, it would have kept you going a while longer, and once you had the taste, you might not be so afraid to drink again.”
“I’ll never have the taste!” I roared. “I won’t drink human blood. I don’t care if I do die. I won’t drink it.”
“Very well.” He sighed. “I have done my best. If you insist on being stupid, on your own head be it.”
“I’m not being stupid. . . . I’m being human,” I growled.
“But you are not human,” he said softly.
“I know,” I replied. “But I want to be. I want to be like Sam. I want a family and ordinary friends. I want to grow old at the usual rate. I don’t want to spend my life drinking blood and feeding off humans, worrying about sunlight and vampire hunters.”
“Too bad,” Mr. Crepsley said. “It is the hand you have been dealt.”
“I hate you,” I snarled.
“Too bad,” he said again. “You are stuck with me. If it is any compensation,” he added, “I am none too fond of you, either. Turning you into a half-vampire was the worst mistake I ever made.”
“So why not free me?” I wailed.
“I cannot,” he said. “I would if I could. Of course, you are free to leave any time you like.”
I stared at him suspiciously. “Really?” I asked. “Really,” he said. “I do not mind. In fact, I would prefer it if you did. That way, you would no longer be my responsibility. I would not have to watch you die.”
I shook my head slowly. “I don’t understand you at all,” I said.
He smiled, almost tenderly. “Nor I you,” he said. We laughed a little then, and things returned to normal. I didn’t like what Mr. Crepsley had tried, but understood why he’d tried it. You can’t really hate someone who has your best interests at heart.
I told him what I’d done that day, about going to the railroad yard with Sam and how he saved my life. I also told him about almost becoming Sam’s blood brother.
“It is a good thing you stopped when you did,” Mr. Crepsley said.
“What would have happened if I hadn’t?” I asked. “Your blood would have tainted his. He would have developed a taste for raw meat. He would have hung around butcher shops, staring in the windows. He would have aged at a slightly slower rate than normal. It would not have been much of a difference, but it would have been enough.”
“Enough to do what?” I asked.
“Drive him mad,” Mr. Crepsley said. “He would not have understood what was happening. He would have thought he was evil. He would not have known why his life had changed. Within ten years he would have been a screaming wreck.”
I shivered at the thought of how close I’d come to destroying Sam’s life. This sort of thing was precisely why I had to stay with Mr. Crepsley until I’d learned everything about being a half-vampire.
“What do you think of Sam?” I asked.
“I have not seen much of him,” Mr. Crepsley said. “He comes mostly by day. But he seems nice. Very bright.”
“He’s been helping Evra and me with our chores,” I said.
“I know.”
“He’s a good worker.”
“So I have heard.”
I licked my lips nervously. “He wants to join the Cirque,” I said. Mr. Crepsley’s face darkened. “I was going to ask Mr. Tall, but I forgot. I’ll ask tomorrow. What do you think he’ll say?”
“He will say you have to ask me. Children cannot join the Cirque Du Freak unless an independent member agrees to be their guardian.
“I could be his guardian,” I said.
“You are not old enough. It would have to be me. I would have to give my permission. But I will not.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because it is a crazy idea,” he said. “One child is bad enough. There is no way I would take on a second. Besides, he is human. I am stuck with you because of the vampire blood in your veins. Why should I put my neck on the line for a human?”
“He’s my friend,” I said. “He’d be company for me.”
Mr. Crepsley snorted. “Madam Octa is company enough.”
“That’s not the same,” I whined.
“Tell me this,” Mr. Crepsley mused. “What happens when he finds out you are a vampire? You think he will understand? You think he will sleep easily, knowing his best friend would like nothing better than to slit his throat open and drink him dry?”
“I wouldn’t do that!” I yelled.
“I know,” Mr. Crepsley agreed. “But I am a vampire. I know what you are really like. So do Mr. Tall, Evra, and the others. But how do you think an ordinary human would see you?”
I sighed unhappily. “You won’t let him join?”
Mr. Crepsley began to shake his head, then stopped and nodded slowly. “Very well,” he said. “He can join.”
“He can?” I stared at him, shocked. Even though I’d been arguing on Sam’s behalf, I’d never really thought they would let him join.
“Yes,” Mr. Crepsley said. “He can join and travel with us and help you and Evra with your jobs. But on one condition.” Mr. Crepsley leaned in close to me and grinned wickedly. “He has to become a half-vampire, too!” he hissed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
My heart was heavy when I saw Sam run into camp early the next morning. I hated having to disappoint him but knew I had to. There was no way I could let Mr. Crepsley turn Sam into a half-vampire.
I’d thought about it a lot during the night, and the frightening thing was, I believed Sam would agree to become a half-vampire if I gave him the option. Smart as he was, I don’t think he’d have stopped to consider the loneliness and awfulness of being a vampire.
He rushed over when he saw me, too excited to notice my new clothes and haircut.
“Did you ask him? Did you?” His face was bright, filled with hope.
“Yes,” I said, smiling sadly. “And?”
I shook my head. “Sorry, Sam. He said no.” Sam’s face fell about a thousand miles.
“Why?” he shouted.
“You’re too young,” I said.
“You’re not much older!” he snapped.
“But I don’t have parents,” I lied. “I didn’t have a home when I joined the Cirque.”
“I don’t care about my parents,” he said with a sniff.
“That’s not true,” I said. “You’d miss them.”
“I could go home for holidays.”
“It wouldn’t work. You’re not cut out for life in the Cirque Du Freak. Maybe later, when you’re older.”
“I don’t care about later!” he yelled. “I want to join now. I’ve worked hard. I’ve proved myself. I kept quiet when you were lying to R.V. about the wolf-man yesterday. Did you tell that to Mr. Tall?”
“I told him everything,” I said.
“I don’t believe you,” Sam said. “I don’t think you spoke to him at all. I want to see him myself.”
I shrugged and pointed toward Mr. Tall’s van. “That’s where you’ll find him,” I said.
Sam ran off in a huff but slowed after a few steps, then came to a halt. He kicked the ground miserably, then returned and sat down beside me.
“It’s not fair,” he grumbled. I could see tears trick-
ling down his cheeks. “I made up my mind to join. It was going to be great. I had it all p
lanned.”
“There’ll be other chances,” I said.
“When?” he asked. “I’ve never heard of a freak show playing around here before. When will I run into one again?”
I didn’t answer.
“You wouldn’t have liked it, anyway,” I said. “It’s not as much fun as you think. Imagine what it’s like in the middle of winter, when you have to get up at five in the morning and shower in ice-cold water and work outside in blizzards.”
“That doesn’t bother me,” Sam insisted. Then his tears stopped and he got a crafty look in his eyes. “Maybe I’ll come along, anyway,” he said. “Maybe I’ll sneak into one of the vans and stow away with you. Mr. Tall would have to take me then.”
“You can’t do that!” I snapped. “No way!”
“I will if I want.” He grinned. “You can’t stop me.” “Yes, I can,” I growled.
“How?” He sneered.
I took a deep breath. The time had come to scare Sam Grest away forever. I couldn’t tell him the truth about me, but I could invent a story almost as horrifying, one guaranteed to send him running.
“I never told you what happened to my parents, did I, Sam? Or how I came to join the freak show?” I kept my voice low and steady.
“No,” Sam said quietly. “I’ve wondered a lot, but I didn’t want to ask.”
“I killed them, Sam,” I said.
“What?” His face went white.
“I go crazy sometimes. Like the wolf-man. Nobody knows when it’s going to happen, or why. I was in a hospital when I was younger, but I seemed to be getting better. My parents brought me home for Christmas. After dinner, while I was in a fight with Dad, I flipped out.
“I tore him to pieces. Mom tried to drag me off, but I killed her too. My little sister ran for help, but I caught her. I ripped her apart the same way I’d ripped my mother and father.
“Then, after I’d killed them . . .” I locked eyes with Sam. It had to be a good act to make him believe. “I ate them.”
He stared at me, stunned.
“That’s not true,” he whispered. “It can’t be.”
“I killed and ate them, then ran away,” I lied. “I was discovered by Mr. Tall, who agreed to hide me. They have a special cage built to keep me in when I go crazy. The problem is, nobody knows when it’s going to happen. That’s why most people avoid me. Evra’s okay, because he’s strong. So are some of the other performers. But ordinary humans ...I could rip them apart in a second.”
“You’re lying,” Sam said.
I picked up a large stick lying nearby, turned it around in my hands, then put it in my mouth and bit through it like it was a big carrot.
“I’d chew your bones and spit you out as gristle,” I told Sam. I’d cut my lips on the stick and the blood made me look ferocious. “You wouldn’t be able to stop me. You’d be sleeping in my tent if you joined the show and would be the one I’d go for first.
“You can’t join the Cirque Du Freak,” I said. “I wish you could — I’d love to have a friend — but it’s not possible. I’d end up killing you if you joined.”
Sam tried responding but couldn’t get his mouth to work. He believed my big lie. He’d seen enough of the show to know that things like that could happen here.
“Go away, Sam,” I said sadly. “Go away and don’t ever come back. It’s safer that way. It’s better. For both of us.”
“Darren, I ...I...” He shook his head uncertainly. “Go!” I roared, and pounded the ground with my hands. I bared my teeth and growled. I was able to make my voice much deeper than a human’s, so it sounded like a wild animal.
Sam screamed, scrambled to his feet, and sprinted for the woods, never once looking back.
I watched him go, heavyhearted, certain my ploy had worked. He’d never be back. I wouldn’t see him again. Our paths had separated, and we would never meet again.
If I’d known how wrong I was — if I’d had any idea of the awful night that lay ahead — I’d have run after him and never returned to that disgusting circus of blood, that revolting circus of death.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I was moping around when one of the Little People tapped me on the back. It was the one with the limp.
“What do you want?” I asked.
The tiny man — if it was a man — in the blue-hooded robe rubbed his stomach with his hands. This was the sign that he and his brothers were hungry.
“You just had breakfast,” I said.
He rubbed his stomach again.
“It’s too early for lunch.”
He rubbed his stomach again.
I knew that this would go on for hours if I let it. He would patiently follow me around, rubbing his stomach, until I agreed to go hunt for food for him.
“All right,” I snapped. “I’ll see what I can find. But I’m on my own today, so if I don’t come back with a full bag, tough.”
He rubbed his stomach again.
I spit on the ground and took off.
I shouldn’t have gone hunting. I was really weak. I could still run faster than a human, and I was stronger than most kids my age, but I wasn’t superfit or extrastrong anymore. Mr. Crepsley had said I’d be dead within a week if I didn’t drink human blood, and I knew he’d spoken the truth. I could feel myself wasting away. A few more days and I wouldn’t be able to pull myself out of bed.
I tried catching a rabbit but wasn’t fast enough. I worked up a sweat chasing it and had to sit down for a few minutes. Next, I went looking for roadkill but couldn’t find any dead animals. Finally, because I was tired and half afraid of what would happen if I returned to camp empty-handed (the Little People might decide to eat me!), I headed for a field full of sheep.
They were grazing peacefully when I arrived. They were used to humans and barely lifted their heads when I entered the field and walked among them.
I was looking for an old sheep, or one that looked sick. That way I wouldn’t have to feel so lousy about killing it. I finally found one with skinny, trembling legs and a dazed expression, and decided she’d do. She looked as though she didn’t have long to live, anyway.
If I’d had my full powers, I would have snapped her neck and she would have been dead in an instant, without any pain. But I was weak and clumsy and didn’t twist hard enough the first time.
The sheep began to bleat with agony.
She tried running away, but her legs wouldn’t carry her. She fell to the ground, where she lay bleating miserably.
I tried breaking her neck again but couldn’t. In the end I grabbed a stone and finished the job. It was a messy, horrible way to kill an animal, and I felt ashamed of myself as I grabbed its back legs and hauled it away from the flock.
I’d almost reached the fence before I realized somebody was sitting on top of it, waiting for me. I dropped the sheep and looked up, expecting an angry farmer.
But it wasn’t a farmer.
It was R.V.
And he was mad as hell.
“How could you?” he shouted. “How could you kill a poor, innocent animal so cruelly?”
“I tried killing her quickly,” I said. “I tried snapping her neck, but I couldn’t. I was going to leave her when I couldn’t do it, but she was in pain. I thought it was better to finish her off than leave her to suffer.”
“That’s real big of you, man,” he said sarcastically.
“Do you think you’ll get the Nobel Peace Prize for that?”
“Come on, R.V.,” I said. “Don’t be angry. She was sick. The farmer would have killed her anyway. Even if she’d lived she would have been sent to a butcher in the end.”
“That don’t make it right,” he said angrily. “Just because other people are nasty, it don’t mean you should be nasty, too.”
“Killing animals isn’t nasty,” I said. “Not when it’s for food.”
“What’s wrong with vegetables?” he asked. “We don’t need to eat meat, man. We don’t need to kill.”
“Some pe
ople need meat,” I disagreed. “Some can’t live without it.”
“Then they should be left to die!” R.V. roared. “That sheep never did any harm to anyone. As far as I’m concerned, killing her is worse than killing a human. You’re a murderer, Darren Shan.”
I shook my head sadly. There was no point arguing with somebody this stubborn.
“Look, R.V.,” I said. “I don’t enjoy killing. I’d be psyched if every person in the world was a vegetarian. But they’re not. People eat meat, and that’s a fact of life. I’m only doing what I have to.”
“Well, we’ll see what the police have to say about it,” R.V. said.
“The police?” I frowned. “What do they have to do with it?”
“You’ve killed somebody else’s sheep.” He laughed cruelly. “Do you think they’ll let you get away with that? They won’t arrest you for murdering rabbits and foxes, but they’ll charge you for killing a sheep. I’ll have the police and health inspectors come down on you like a ton of bricks.” He grinned.
“You won’t!” I gasped. “You don’t like the police. You’re always fighting against them.”
“When I have to,” he agreed. “But when I can get them on my side . . .” He laughed again. “They’ll arrest you first, then turn your camp upside down. I’ve been studying the goings-on there. I’ve seen the way you treat that poor hairy man.”
“The wolf-man?”
“Yeah. You keep him locked away like an animal.” “He is an animal,” I said.
“No,” R.V. disagreed. “You are the animal, man.” “R.V., listen,” I said. “We don’t have to be enemies. Come back to camp with me. Talk to Mr. Tall and the others. See how we live. Get to know and understand us. There’s no need to —”
“Save it,” he snapped. I’m getting the police. Nothing you can say will stop me.”
I took a deep breath. I liked R.V. but knew I couldn’t allow him to destroy the Cirque Du Freak.
“All right, then,” I said. “If nothing I say can stop you, maybe you’ll respond to something I do.”
Summoning all my remaining strength, I threw the dead body of the sheep at R.V. It struck him in the chest and knocked him flying from the fence. He yelled with surprise, then with pain as he landed heavily on the ground.
