by Tom Becker
“Don’t tempt me. This place is weird.” There was an awkward pause, and the wereman coughed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. You know, in the ward.”
“I’m just glad you’re alive. I thought you and Ricky were goners.”
“It must have been a particularly potent batch of my recipe. We were blown halfway across Vendetta Heights. I was surprised that Ricky was still in one piece. That boy’s tougher than he looks. Even so, we couldn’t get here in time.”
“That’s all right,” Jonathan said happily, “my dad was there. So it was OK.”
Carnegie shook his head. “Amazing the energy you can get when someone’s trying to eat your son.”
“Well, I think Shaw being thrown on top of him might have had something to do with him waking up, but … yeah, I think amazing is the right word.”
“How’s Alain doing now?”
“Still pretty weak. He spends a lot of time sleeping. The doctors reckon he’s going to be fine, though. Eventually. If he’s got enough strength to beat Vendetta, he can’t be that bad.”
“Have you two had a chance to talk yet?”
Jonathan sighed. “Not really. He’s too confused to get any proper answers out of him. Just ends up mumbling rubbish.”
“Give it time, boy. He’ll come round.”
“But he’s had all this time to tell me … about my mum, I mean.”
The wereman shuffled uncomfortably. “Don’t be too hard on your dad. Alain’s had a pretty rough time too, you know.”
“All I know is he’s been trying to get back to Darkside for years. If that’s got something to do with Mum then I’m going to find out what, whether he tells me or not.”
The press conference broke up, and the journalists raced away to file their stories. Sergeant Shaw stood on the steps of the police station on his own, still basking in the moment. Catching sight of the two figures on the other side of the road, he gave them a quick salute and a wink. Carnegie snorted, and led Jonathan away from the station and down a side street that curved down towards the Thames.
“How did you get him to agree to that, then?”
“Agree to what?”
“Pretending that you’re still missing. I’d have thought he would have looked even better if he could have paraded you in front of the cameras.”
Jonathan laughed. “Not likely. I told him that I was going to tell the press everything – about Darkside, kidnappers, vampires working for the SIU. All hell would have broken loose then. No way anyone was going to promote him then. So he turned a bit green, and agreed that it might be best if I stayed underground for a bit. Everyone who cares about me knows I’m safe. And I don’t really fancy going back to school yet.”
“Won’t people miss you?”
“I’m invisible round here. They’ll forget quickly enough.”
Down by the waterfront, birds were circling idly on the wind currents. Tourists milled around, taking turns to photograph each other. A juggler tossed skittles higher and higher into the air, vainly trying to attract an audience. Carnegie leant on a rail and stared out over the grey Thames.
“So you’re free – for now. What are you going to do with your time?”
“Well…” Jonathan said, a hopeful note creeping into his voice. “Dad’s going to be fine, but it’s not like I can visit him in the hospital. I am supposed to be missing, after all. And people would recognize me if I went to Mrs Elwood’s house. So I was thinking…”
“What?”
Jonathan gave him a beaming smile.
“No. Absolutely not. You must be kidding me!”
“It won’t be for long!”
“You know that Vendetta will be there! He’s not a man to forget a grudge. If you start wandering around Darkside he’ll come after you. He’s probably dreaming up ways to kill us both right now.”
“I’m not scared of him. We’ve beaten him before. We can do it again.”
“Bold words. I’m glad you’re so confident. If you haven’t forgotten, I’m a private detective, boy. I can’t spend the time baby-sitting.”
“I won’t get in your way. I promise.”
“How many times did you nearly die on Darkside?”
“That’s why I need to go back there! I need to learn. Carnegie, I’m a Darksider too, remember. It’s part of me!”
Carnegie turned and began hurrying away from the river. Jonathan chased after him, skipping around the knots of tourists. “You could show me all the sights!”
“Sights? What sights?” the wereman called over his shoulder.
“Well … Raquella said she’d take me to Bleakmoor on the train.”
“BLEAKMOOR!” Carnegie bellowed, causing a flock of pigeons to take to the air in alarm. “Have you any idea how dangerous that place is?”
“That’s why I need you to come with me,” Jonathan replied. “Otherwise, I’ll be in all sorts of trouble.”
Carnegie gave Jonathan a long, hard stare. Eventually he sighed, defeated, and ruffled Jonathan’s hair.
“Come on then, boy. If we’re going to cross, we should cross now.” He glanced up at the sky. “It’ll be getting dark soon.”
Scholastic Children’s Books
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First published in the UK by Scholastic Ltd., 2007
This electronic edition published by Scholastic Ltd., 2012
Text copyright © CPI Publishing Solutions, 2007
The right of Tom Becker to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him.
Cover illustration @ Studio Spooky, 2007
eISBN 978 1407 13222 8
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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