by Darren Shan
"That's nice of you," R.V. said. "But don't worry, man. I won't be going anywhere soon."
I frowned. "I thought you said you were moving on."
"NOP is moving on," he said. "In fact, they've already moved. They pulled out yesterday evening." He smiled icily. "But I'm staying a little longer. There are a few things I want to check out."
"Oh." Inside my head I swore loudly, but outside I pretended to be happy. "That's good news. Well, see you around."
"Oh, yeah," R.V. said. "You'll see me around, man. You can bet on that. You'll be seeing plenty of me."
I grinned awkwardly.
"So long for now," I said.
"So long," R.V. replied.
"Wait up," Sam called. "I'll come with you."
"No," I said. "Come tomorrow. I'll have an answer from Mr. Tall for you by then. Bye."
I took off before either of them could say anything else.
R.V.'s interest in the disappearance of the animals worried me at first, but as I walked back to camp I began to relax. When all was said and done, he was only a hairy harmless human, while those of us in the Cirque Du Freak were strange, powerful beings. What could he possibly do to hurt us?
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I meant to report right to Mr. Tall when I got back, to tell him about R.V., but as I was heading for his van, Truska — the lady who was able to grow an incredible beard — grabbed my arm and made signs that she wanted me to follow her.
She led me to her tent. It was decorated more than most of the other tents and vans. The walls were covered with mirrors and paintings. There were huge wardrobes and dressing tables and a humongous four-poster bed.
Truska said something in her weird seal-like voice, then stood me in the center of the room and made a sign that I wasn't supposed to move. She grabbed a measuring tape and measured my body.
When she finished, she pursed her lips and thought for a few seconds, then clicked her fingers and hurried to one of the closets. She dug through it, coming out with a pair of pants. She found a shirt in another closet, a jacket in another, and a pair of shoes in a large chest. She let me pick my own T-shirt, underwear, and socks from one of the dressing-table drawers.
I stepped behind a silk screen to put the clothes on. Evra must have told her about my wish to find new clothes. I'm glad that he did, because I probably would have kept on forgetting.
Truska clapped her hands when I came out and quickly shoved me in front of a mirror. The clothes fit perfectly and, much to my surprise, I looked supercool! The shirt was light green, the pants were dark purple, and the jacket was blue and gold. Truska found a long piece of red satin cloth and wrapped it around my waist like a belt. That completed the picture: I looked just like a pirate!
"This is great!" I told her. "The only thing is," I said, pointing at my feet, "the shoes are a little tight."
Truska took back the shoes and found a new pair. They were roomier than the first pair and the toes curled up just like Sinbad the Sailor's. They were really cool.
"Thanks, Truska," I said, and started to leave. She raised a hand and I stopped. She pulled a chair over to one of the taller wardrobes and stood on it, reached up, and brought down a huge round box. She plopped it on the floor, opened it, and pulled out a small brown hat with a feather in it, the kind that Robin Hood wore.
Before I could put the hat on, she made me sit down, got a pair of scissors, and gave me a haircut, which I badly needed.
The haircut and hat were the icing on the cake. I almost didn't recognize myself in the mirror when I looked this time.
"Oh, Truska," I said. "I … I …" I couldn't find the words, so instead I threw my arms around her and gave her a big, sloppy kiss. I felt embarrassed when I let go, and was glad none of my friends had been around to see, but Truska was beaming.
I rushed off to show Evra my new look. He thought the clothes were great, but swore he'd never asked Truska to help me. He said she must have either been sick of seeing me look so scruffy, or Mr. Crepsley had asked her to fix me up, or she'd done it because she liked me.
"She does not like me!" I shouted.
"Truska loves Darren," he sang. "Truska loves Darren."
"Oh, shut up, you slimy excuse for a reptile," I growled.
He laughed, not the least bit offended.
"Darren and Truska sitting in a tree," he sang, "k-i-s-s-i-n-g. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Darren with the vampire carriage."
I jumped on him, wrestled him to the ground, and wouldn't let go until he cried for mercy.
When we were finished. Evra went back to taking care of his snake, and I went outside and continued with the day's jobs. I was on the go nonstop, because I had to cover for Evra and do the work of two. With all that coming and going, and the excitement of having new clothes, I totally forgot about R.V. and telling Mr. Tall about the ecowarrior's threat to investigate the disappearing animals.
If I hadn't been so forgetful, maybe things would have turned out differently, and maybe our stay wouldn't have ended in a bloodbath.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I was ready to collapse by the time night came. The activity had worn me out. Evra had warned me not to sleep in his tent that night; his snake was in a foul mood because of the virus and might bite. So I headed for Mr. Crepsley's van and made a bed on the floor beside Madam Octa's cage.
I fell asleep within a couple of minutes of lying down.
A little later, as I was dreaming, something caught in my throat and made me gag. I coughed and awoke.
There was a figure above me, holding a small bottle to my mouth, trying to force a liquid down me. My first strange, terrified thought was: "It's Mr. Tiny!"
I bit the top off the bottle, cutting my lips and spilling most of the liquid. The man swore, grabbed my chin, and pried my gums apart. He tried pouring the last of the liquid into my open mouth, but I spat it out.
The man swore again, then let go and slumped back. As my heartbeat slowed, I saw that it wasn't Mr. Tiny.
It was Mr. Crepsley.
"What the hell were you trying to do?" I screamed angrily. I was too mad to feel the pain in my cut lips.
He showed me the remains of the small bottle … one of the containers he used to store human blood.
"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 wai
led.
"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 trickling down his cheeks. "I made up my mind to join. It was going to be great. I had it all planned."
"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 ra
n 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.
