by Darren Shan
I leaped over the fence and was on him before he could move.
“How did you do that, man?” he whispered. “Never mind,” I snapped.
“Kids can’t throw sheep,” he said. “How did —” “Shut up!” I shouted, and slapped his bearded face. He stared up at me, shocked. “Listen, Reggie Veggie,” I growled, using the name he hated, “and listen good. You won’t go to the police or the health inspectors. Because if you do, the sheep won’t be the only dead body I drag back to the Cirque Du Freak today.”
“What are you?” he asked. His voice was trembling, and his eyes were filled with terror.
“I’m the end of you if you screw with me,” I swore. I dug my fingernails into the soil at either side of his face and squeezed his head between my hands, just enough to let him know how strong I was.
“Get out of here, Reggie,” I said. “Go find your friends in NOP. Stick to protesting against new roads and bridges. You’re in over your head here. Me and my friends in the Cirque are freaks, and freaks don’t obey the same laws as other people. Understand?”
“You’re crazy,” he whimpered.
“Yes,” I said. “But not as crazy as you’ll be if you stay and interfere.”
I stood and draped the sheep over my shoulders. “Going to the police would be useless, anyway,” I said. “By the time they reach the camp, this sheep will be long gone, bones and all.
“You can do what you like, R.V. Stay or go. Report me to the police or keep your mouth shut. It’s up to you. All I have left to say is this: To me and my kind, you’re no different from this sheep.” I gave it a shake. “We’d think no more of killing you than we would any dumb animal in the fields.”
“You’re a monster!” R.V. yelled.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “But I’m only a baby monster. You should see what some of the others are like.” I smiled nastily at him, hating myself for acting so mean, but knowing this was the way it had to be. “So long, Reggie Veggie,” I said sarcastically, and walked away.
I didn’t look back. I didn’t need to. I could hear the chattering of his terrified teeth practically all the way back to camp.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
This time i went straight to Mr. Tall and told him about R.V. He listened carefully, then said, “You handled him well.”
“I did what I had to,” I replied. “I’m not proud of it. I don’t like bullying or scaring people, but there was no other way.”
“Actually, you should have killed him,” Mr. Tall said. “That way he could do us no harm whatsoever.”
“I’m not a murderer,” I told him.
“I know.” He sighed. “Nor am I. It’s a pity one of the Little People wasn’t with you. They’d have chopped his head off without a second’s hesitation.”
“What do you think we should do?” I asked.
“I don’t think he can cause many problems,” Mr. Tall said. “He’ll probably be too scared to go to the police right away. Even if he does, there’s no evidence against you. It would be an unwanted complication, but we’ve had plenty of dealings with officers of the law in the past. We could cope.
“The health authorities worry me more. We could hit the road and lose them, but people in the health department tend to trail you around like hound dogs once they’ve got your scent.
“We’ll leave tomorrow,” he decided.“There’s a show scheduled for tonight, and I hate canceling on short notice. Dawn is the earliest any health inspector could be here, so we’ll make sure we’re gone before then.”
“You’re not angry with me?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “This isn’t the first time we’ve clashed with the public. You’re not to blame.”
I helped Mr. Tall spread the word of our departure. Everybody took it in stride. Most seemed happy to be getting this much notice; a lot of times they had to move on with only an hour or two of warning.
It was another busy day for me. As well as preparing for the show, I had to help people get ready for leaving. I offered to help Truska pack her stuff, but her tent was already bare when I got there. She only winked when I asked how she’d packed so quickly.
When Mr. Crepsley awoke I told him about our plan to leave. He didn’t seem surprised.
“We have been here long enough,” he said.
I asked to be left out of that night’s show, because I wasn’t feeling very well.
“I’ll get to bed early,” I said, “and get a good night’s sleep.”
“It will not do any good,” Mr. Crepsley warned. “There is only one thing that will make you feel better, and you know what it is.”
Night rolled on, and soon it was time for the show to begin. There was another big crowd. The roads were blocked with cars in both directions. Everybody in the Cirque was busy, either preparing to go onstage or getting people seated or selling stuff.
The only two who seemed to have nothing to do were me and Evra, who wasn’t performing because of his sick snake. He left her for a few minutes to watch the start of the show. We stood on one side of the stage as Mr. Tall got the ball rolling and introduced the wolf-man.
We stuck around until the first break, then walked outside and studied the stars.
“I’ll miss this place when we go,” Evra said. “I like the country. You can’t see stars as well in the city.”
“I didn’t know you were interested in astronomy,” I said.
“I’m not,” he replied. “But I like looking up at the stars.”
I got dizzy after a while and had to sit down. “You’re not feeling too good, are you?” Evra asked.
I smiled weakly. “I’ve been better.”
“Still not drinking human blood?” I shook my head. He sat beside me. “You’ve never told me exactly why you won’t drink it,” he said. “It can’t be so different from animal blood, can it?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “And I don’t want to find out.” I paused. “I’m afraid that if I drink human blood, I’ll be evil. Mr. Crepsley says vampires aren’t evil, but I think they are. I think anyone who looks at humans as if they’re animals must be evil.”
“But if it keeps you alive . . . ,” Evra said. “That’s how it would start,” I said. “I’d tell myself I was doing it to keep going. I’d swear never to drink more than I needed. But what if I couldn’t stop myself? I’ll need more as I grow older. What if I couldn’t control my thirst? What if I killed someone?”
“I don’t think you could,” Evra said. “You’re not evil, Darren. I don’t think a good person can do evil things. As long as you treat human blood like medicine, you’ll be all right.”
“Maybe,” I said, although I didn’t believe it. “Anyway, I’m okay for now. I don’t have to make a final decision for a couple more days.”
“Would you really let yourself die rather than drink?” Evra asked.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.
“I’d miss you if you died,” Evra said sadly.
“Well,” I said uncomfortably, “maybe it won’t come to that. Maybe there’s some other way I can survive, a way that Mr. Crepsley doesn’t want to tell me about until he has no other choice.”
Evra grunted. He knew as well as I did that there was no other way.
“I’m going to check on my python,” he said. “Do you want to come and sit with us for a while?”
“No,” I said. “I’d better get some sleep. We have to get up early, and I’m really tired.”
We said good night. I didn’t head straight for Mr. Crepsley’s van but wandered through the campsite, thinking about my conversation with Evra, wondering what it would feel like to die. I’d “died” once before, and been buried, but that wasn’t the same thing. If I died for real, I’d be dead for good. Life would be over, my body would decay, and then . . .
I glanced up at the stars. Was that where I’d be heading? To the other side of the universe? Vampire Paradise?
It was a weird time. When I was living at home I’d hardly ever thoug
ht about death; it was something that only happened to old people. Now here I was, almost face to face with it.
If only somebody else could decide for me. I should be worrying about school and making the soccer team, not about whether I should drink human blood or let myself die. It wasn’t fair. I was too young. I shouldn’t have to —
I saw a shadow passing the front of a nearby tent but didn’t pay much attention. It wasn’t until I heard a sharp snapping sound that I wondered who it might be. Nobody should have been out there. Everyone involved with the show was in the big tent. Was it somebody from the audience?
I decided to investigate.
I headed in the direction that the shadow had taken. It was a dark night, and after a few turns I couldn’t figure out which way the person had gone. I was on the verge of abandoning the search when I heard another sharp snapping sound, closer this time.
I looked around and knew immediately where the sounds must have come from: the wolf-man’s cage!
Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I ran as fast as I could to check it out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The grass was damp, so it bent beneath my feet and made no sound. When I reached the last van before the wolf-man’s cage, I stopped and listened.
There was a soft jangling sound, as though heavy chains were being lightly shaken.
I stepped out from under cover.
There were dim lights on either side of the wolf-man’s cage, so I was able to see everything in perfect detail. He’d been wheeled back here after his act, like he was every night. There was a slab of meat in his cage, which normally he’d be feasting on. But not tonight. Tonight he was focused on something different.
There was a big man in front of the wolf-man’s cage. He had a huge pair of pliers with him and had cut some of the chains that were holding the door shut.
The man was trying to unwrap the chains but wasn’t doing very well. He swore softly to himself and lifted the pliers to cut through another link.
“What are you doing?” I shouted.
The man jumped with shock, dropped the pliers, and spun around.
It was, as I had guessed, R.V.
He looked guilty and scared at first, but when he saw I was alone he grew in confidence.
“Stay back!” he warned.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
“Freeing this poor, abused creature,” he said. “I wouldn’t keep the wildest of animals in a cage like this. It’s inhumane. I’m letting him go. I called the police — they’ll be out here in the morning — but I decided to do a little work of my own beforehand.”
“You can’t do that!” I shrieked. “Are you crazy? That guy’s savage. He’d kill everything within a five-mile radius if you let him out!”
“So you say,” R.V. sneered. “I don’t believe that. It’s been my experience that animals react according to how they’re treated. If you treat them like crazy monsters, they’ll act that way. If, on the other hand, you treat them with respect, love, and humanity . . .”
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” I told him.
“The wolf-man isn’t like other animals. Walk away from there before you do any real damage. We can talk it over. We can —”
“No!” he screamed. “I’m through talking!”
He spun back to the chains and began struggling with them again. He reached into the cage and tugged the thickest chains through the bars. The wolf-man watched him silently.
“R.V., stop!” I shouted, and raced over to stop him from opening the door. I grabbed his shoulders and tried pulling him away, but I wasn’t strong enough. I punched him in the ribs a few times, but he only grunted and doubled his efforts.
I grabbed for his hands, to pry them off the chains, but the bars were in the way.
“Leave me alone!” R.V. yelled. He turned his head to speak to me directly. His eyes were wild. “You won’t stop me!” he screamed. “You won’t prevent me from doing my duty. I’ll free this victim. I’ll see justice done. I’ll —”
He stopped ranting all of a sudden. His face turned deathly white and his body shuddered, then went stiff.
There was a crunching, munching, ripping sound, and when I looked inside the cage, I realized the wolf-man had made his move.
He’d sprung across the cage while we were arguing, grabbed both of R.V.’s arms, jammed them in his mouth, and bitten them off below the elbows!
R.V. fell away from the cage, shocked. He lifted his shortened arms and watched as blood pumped from the holes at the ends of his elbows.
I tried grabbing his lower arms back from the mouth of the wolf-man — if I could retrieve them, they could be stuck back on — but he moved too quickly for me, leaped back out of reach, and began chewing. Within seconds the arms were a mess, and I knew they’d never be any good again.
“Where are my hands?” R.V. cried.
I switched my attention back to him. He was staring at the stumps that were his arms, a funny look on his face, not yet feeling the pain.
“Where are my hands?” he cried again. “They’re gone. They were there a minute ago. Where did all this blood come from? Why can I see the bone inside my skin?
“Where are my hands?” He screamed this last question at the top of his lungs.
“You have to come with me,” I said frantically. “We have to take care of your arms before you bleed to death.”
“Stay away from me!” R.V. yelled. He tried raising a hand to shove me back, then remembered he didn’t have hands anymore.
“You’re responsible for this!” he shouted. “You did this to me!”
“No, R.V., it was the wolf-man,” I said, but he wasn’t listening.
“This is your fault,” he insisted. “You took my hands. You’re an evil little monster, and you stole my hands. My hands! My hands!”
He began screaming again. I reached for him, but this time he brushed me aside, turned, and ran. He tore screaming through the camp, his blood-drenched half-arms raised high above his head, yelling as loudly as he could, until he vanished into the night.
“My hands! My hands! My hands!”
I wanted to run after him but was afraid he might attack me. I ran off to find Mr. Crepsley and Mr. Tall — they’d know what to do — but was stopped dead in my tracks by a worrying growl behind me.
I turned slowly. The wolf-man was at the door of the cage, which was swinging wide open! He’d somehow removed the last of the chains and freed himself.
I remained perfectly still as he stood and grinned viciously, his long, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light.
He looked to the left and to the right, stretched out his hands, and grabbed the bars on either side. Then he crouched down low and tensed his legs.
He sprang, propelling himself toward me.
I shut my eyes and waited for the end to come.
I heard and felt him land about a foot in front of me. I began to say my final prayers.
But then I heard him flying overhead and realized he’d bounced over me. For a couple of terrifying seconds I waited for his teeth to bite through the back of my neck and gnaw my head off.
But they didn’t.
Confused, I turned, blinking. He was racing away from me! I saw a figure ahead of him, running quickly between the trailers, and realized he was after somebody else. He’d passed me up for a tastier meal!
I took several stumbling steps after the wolf-man. I was smiling and silently thanking the gods. I couldn’t believe how close I’d just come to death. When he’d leaped through the air, I was sure —
My feet struck something, and I stopped.
I looked down and saw a bag. The person the wolf-man was chasing must have dropped it, and for the first time I wondered who it was that the wild wolf-man was after.
I picked up the bag. It was the kind you carry over one shoulder. It was full of clothes, which I could feel through the cover. A small jar fell out as I turned the bag around. Retrieving it, I opened the
lid and caught the bitter smell of . . . pickled onions!
My heart almost stopped. I began searching furiously for a name tag, praying the pickled onions didn’t mean what I feared.
My prayers went unanswered.
The handwriting, when I found it, was neat but un-joined. The writing of a child.
“This bag is the property of Sam Grest,” it said, and his address was just beneath. “Hands off!!” it warned at the end, which was pretty ironic given what had happened a minute or so earlier to R.V.
But I didn’t have time to laugh at my twisted, dark joke.
Sam! For some reason he snuck out here tonight — probably to stow away with the Cirque — and must have seen and followed me. It was Sam the wolf-man’s beady eyes had spotted, standing behind me. It was Sam running for his life through the camp.
The wolf-man was after Sam!
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I shouldn’t have chased them on my own. I should have gone for help. It was crazy, rushing off into the darkness by myself.
But he was after Sam. Sam, who wanted to join the Cirque. Sam, who asked to be my blood brother. Harmless, friendly, long-winded Sam. The boy who’d saved my life.
I didn’t think about my own safety. Sam was in trouble, and there wasn’t time to seek anyone else’s help. It might be the death of me, but I had to go after them, to try to save Sam. I owed him.
I got out of the camp quickly. The clouds had parted overhead and I spotted the wolf-man disappearing into the trees. I hurried after him, running as fast as I could.
I heard the wolf-man howl a while later, which was a good sign. It meant he was still chasing Sam. If he’d caught him, he’d be too busy eating to howl.
I wondered why he hadn’t caught him yet. He should have. Although I’d never seen him running in the open, I was sure he must be fast. Maybe he was playing with Sam, toying with him before he moved in for the kill.
Their footprints were clear in the damp night earth, but I would have been able to follow from their sounds anyway. It’s hard to run silently through a forest, especially at night.
