by Darren Shan
Mr. Crepsley made a long, deep cut across the man's chest, baring his heart. He arranged the bottles beside the corpse, then got out a tube and stuck one end into the first of the bottles. He stuck the other end into the dead man's heart, then wrapped his fist around the organ and squeezed it like a pump.
Blood crept slowly along the tube and into the bottle. When it was almost full, Mr. Crepsley pulled the tube out and jammed a cork into the neck of the bottle. He stuck the mouth of the tube into the second bottle and started filling that one.
Raising the first bottle, he swallowed a mouthful and rolled it around his gums, as though tasting wine. "Good," he grunted, licking his lips. "It is pure. We can use it."
He filled eight bottles, then turned to me with a serious look on his face.
"Darren," he said, "I know you are reluctant to drink human blood, but it is time you got over your fear."
"No," I said immediately.
"Come now, Darren," he growled. "This person is dead. His blood is no good to him anymore."
"I can't," I said. "Not from a corpse."
"But you will not drink from a live person!" Mr. Crepsley exploded. "You will have to drink human blood eventually. This is the best way to start."
"Um, listen, guys," Jimmy said. "If you're going to feed, I think I should get out of —"
"Quiet!" Mr. Crepsley snapped. His eyes were burning into me. "You have to drink," he said firmly. "You are a vampire's assistant. It is time you behaved like one."
"Not tonight," I begged. "Another time. When we go hunting. From a living person. I can't drink from a corpse. It's disgusting."
Mr. Crepsley sighed and shook his head. "One night you will realize how silly you are being," he said. "I just hope, by that time, you are not beyond being saved."
Mr. Crepsley thanked Jimmy Ovo for his help, and the two started talking about the past and their friends. I sat by myself while they chatted, feeling miserable, wondering how long I could go without human blood.
When they were finished, we walked downstairs. Jimmy came with us and waved good-bye. He was a nice guy and I was sorry we'd had to meet under dark circumstances.
Mr. Crepsley didn't say anything the whole way home, and when we arrived back at the Cirque Du Freak, he tossed me angrily to one side and pointed a finger at me.
"If you die," he said, "it is not my fault."
"Okay," I replied.
"Stupid boy," he grumbled, then stormed off to his coffin.
I stayed up a while longer and watched the sun rising. I thought a lot about my situation and what would happen when my strength faded and I began to die. A half-vampire who wouldn't drink blood; it would have been funny if it wasn't so deadly.
What should I do? That was the question that kept me awake long after the sun rose. What should I do? Forget about it and just drink human blood? Or stay true to my humanity and… die ?
CHAPTER TWENTY
Istayed inside my tent most of the day and didn't even go out to say hi to Sam when he came around. I was so sad. I didn't feel like I belonged anywhere anymore. I couldn't be a human and wouldn't be a vampire. I was somewhere in between the two.
I got a lot of sleep that night, and the next day I felt better. The sun was shining, and although I knew my problems hadn't gone away, I was able to overlook them for a while.
Evra's snake was sick. She'd picked up a virus, and Evra had to stay in to look after her.
When Sam showed up, we decided to visit that old deserted railroad station of his. Evra didn't mind being left behind. He'd come with us another time.
The railroad station was cool. There was a huge circular yard paved with cracked stones, a three-story house that had served as the guard's house, a couple of old sheds, and several abandoned train cars. There were also railroad tracks running everywhere you looked, overgrown with weeds and grass.
Sam and I walked along some of the tracks and pretended we were on tightropes way above the ground. Every time one of us slipped, he had to scream and pretend to fall fatally to earth. I was much better at the game than Sam, because my vampire powers meant my sense of balance was better than any human's.
We explored a few of the old cars. A couple were run down, but most were okay. Pretty dusty and dirty, but otherwise in good condition. I couldn't understand why they'd been left there to rot.
We climbed onto the roof of one of the cars and stretched out to sit in the sun.
"You know what we should do?" Sam said after a while.
"What?" I asked.
"Become blood brothers."
I propped myself up on an elbow and stared. "Blood brothers?" I asked. "What for? And how's it done?"
"It'd be fun," he said. "We each make a small cut on one of our hands, then join them together and swear an oath to be best friends forever."
"That sounds all right," I agreed. "Do you have a knife?"
"We can use some glass," Sam said. He slid over to the edge of the roof, reached down, and snapped a piece of glass out of one of the train-car windows. When he came back, he made a small cut in the fleshy part of his palm, then handed me the glass.
I was about to cut my palm when I remembered the vampire blood in my veins. I didn't think a small amount could do Sam any harm, but then again…
I lowered the glass and shook my head.
"No," I said. "I don't want to do it."
"Come on," Sam urged. "Don't be afraid. You only have to make a small cut."
"No," I said again.
"Coward!" he yelled. "You're afraid! Chicken! Coward!" He began to sing: "Fraidy cat, fraidy cat!"
"Okay, I'm a coward." I laughed. It was easier to lie than tell the truth. "Everybody's afraid of something. I didn't see you rushing to wash the wolf-man the other day."
Sam made a face. "That's different."
"Horses for courses," I said smugly.
"What does that mean?" he asked.
"I'm not sure," I admitted. "It's something my dad used to say."
We joked around some more, then hopped down and crossed the yard to the guard's house. The doors had rotted off years ago, and most of the glass in the windows had fallen out. We walked through a couple of small rooms, then into a larger one, which had been the living room.
There was a huge hole in the middle of the floor, which we carefully avoided.
"Look up," Sam told me.
I did and discovered I was gazing directly at the roof. The floors in between had fallen in over the years, and all that was left of them were jagged edges around the sides. I could see sunlight shining through a couple of holes in the roof.
"Follow me," Sam said, and he led me to a staircase at the side of the room. He started up. I followed slowly, not sure if it was the smartest thing to do — the steps were creaky and looked as though they might collapse — but not wanting to be called a chicken twice in the same day.
We stopped at the third floor, where the stairs stopped. You could touch the roof from there, and we did.
"Can we get out on the roof?" I asked.
"Yes," Sam said, "but it's too dangerous. The shingles are loose. You could slide off. Anyway, there's something better up here than the roof."
He walked along the side of the uppermost room of the house. The ledge was about two feet wide most of the way, but I kept my back to the wall, not wanting to take any chances.
"This section of floor won't collapse, will it?" I asked nervously.
"It never has before," Sam replied. "But there's a first time for everything."
"Thanks for putting my mind at ease," I grumbled.
Sam stopped a little farther on. I craned my neck so I could see past him and realized we had come to a set of rafters. There were six or seven of them, long pieces of wood stretching from one side of the room to the other.
"This used to be the attic," Sam explained. "I guessed that," I told him.
He looked back at me and grinned. "But can you guess what we're going to do next?" he asked.
&nb
sp; I stared at him, then down at the rafters. "You don't mean… You aren't going to… You're going to walk across, right?"
"Right," he said, and set his left foot on the rafter.
"Sam, this isn't a good idea," I said. "You looked unsteady on the railroad tracks. If you stumble up here…"
"I won't," he said. "I was only fooling down there."
He set his other foot on the wooden rafter and began walking. He went slowly, his arms stretched out on either side. My heart was in my throat. I was certain he'd fall. I looked down and knew he wouldn't survive if he fell. There were four stories if you included the basement. It was a long drop. A deadly one.
But Sam made it across safely to the other side, where he turned and took a bow.
"You're crazy!" I yelled.
"No," he said, "just brave. How about you ? Dare to chance it? It'd be easier for you than it was for me."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Chickens have wings!" he shouted.
That did it! I'd show him!
Taking a deep breath, I went across, moving quicker than Sam had, making full use of my vampire abilities. I didn't look down and tried not to think about what I was doing and in a couple of seconds I was across and standing beside Sam.
"Wow!" He was impressed. "I didn't think you'd do it. Certainly not so quickly."
"You don't travel with the Cirque without picking up a few tricks," I said, pleased with myself.
"Do you think I could go that fast?" Sam asked.
"I wouldn't try it," I advised him.
"I bet you can't do it again," he dared me.
"Just watch," I said, and darted back across, even faster.
We spent a fun few minutes crossing over and back, taking each of the rafters in turn. Then we crossed at the same time, on different rafters, yelling and laughing at each other.
Sam stopped in the middle of his rafter and turned to face me.
"Hey!" he shouted. "Let's play mirrors."
"What's that?" I asked.
"I do something and you have to copy me." He shook his left hand above his head. "Like this."
"Oh," I said, and shook my hand. "Okay. As long as you don't jump to your death. That's the one thing I won't copy."
He laughed, then made a face. I made one, too. Then he slowly stood on one leg. I did the same. Next he bent and touched his toes. I followed his example. I couldn't wait until it was my turn. I'd do a few things — like jump from one rafter to the next — that there was no way he could copy. For once, I was glad for my vampire blood.
Of course, that was the moment when it went and let me down…
There was no warning. One second I was beginning to stand, having bent to touch my toes. The next my head was spinning, my arms were flapping, and my legs were shaking.
This wasn't my first dizzy spell — I'd had several recently — but I hadn't taken much notice before — I'd just sat down and waited for the dizziness to pass. This time was different. I was four stories up. There was nowhere to sit.
I tried lowering myself, thinking I could cling to the rafter and crawl to safety. But before I could get low enough, my feet slipped out from under me… and I fell!
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Although my vampire blood was responsible for getting me into the mess on the rafters, it also saved my life.
As I fell, I stuck out an arm — more out of desperation than anything else — and my hand caught the rafter. If I'd been an ordinary human boy, I wouldn't have had the strength to hold on. But I wasn't ordinary. I was a half-vampire. And even though I was dizzy, I was able to grab tight and hold on.
I swung above the four-story drop, eyes shut, hanging on by those four slim fingers and my thumb.
"Darren! Hang on!" Sam shouted. He didn't need to tell me that — I was hardly going to let go.
I'm coming over," Sam said. "I'll be there as fast as I can. Don't let go. And don't panic."
He went on talking as he made his way across, calming me down, telling me it would be all right, he'd rescue me, I had to relax, everything was fine.
His words helped. They gave me something other than the drop to think about. If not for Sam, I would have been a goner.
I felt him inch out along my rafter. The wood creaked, and for one awful moment I thought the weight would cause it to break and send both of us plummeting to our deaths. But it held and he closed the gap, crawling along on his stomach, quickly but carefully.
Sam paused when he reached me.
"Now," he said, "I'm going to grab your wrist with my right hand. I'll do it slowly. Don't move while I'm doing it, and don't grab me with your free hand. Okay?"
"Okay," I said.
I felt his hand close over my wrist.
"Don't let go of the rafter," he said.
"I won't," I promised.
"I don't have the strength to pull you up," he told me, "so I'm going to swing you from one side to the other. Stretch your free arm out. When you can, grab for the rafter. If you miss, don't panic, I'll still be holding on. If you get a grip, stay still for a few seconds and give your body a chance to relax. Then we can haul you up. Got it?"
"Got it, captain," I said, grinning nervously.
"Here goes. And remember: Everything will be all right. Okay. It's going to work. You will survive."
He began swinging me, lightly at first, then a little harder. I was tempted to grab at the rafter after a few swings but forced myself to wait. When I thought I was swinging high enough, I stretched out my fingers, concentrated on the thin plank of wood, and grabbed.
I caught it!
I was able to relax a little then and rest the muscles of my right arm.
"Do you feel ready to pull yourself up?" Sam asked.
"Yes," I said.
"I'll help you get your upper body up," he said. "When your stomach is safe across the rafter, I'll get out of the way and give you room to bring your legs up."
Sam put his right hand on the collar of my shirt and jacket — to catch me if I slipped — and helped yank me upward.
I scraped my chest and stomach on the rafter, but the pain didn't bother me. In fact, I welcomed it: It meant I was alive.
When I was safe, Sam backed off and I got my legs up. I crawled after him, moving slower than necessary. When I reached the ledge, I stayed crouched down and didn't stand until we got to the stairs. Then I leaned against the wall and let out a long, shuddering sigh of relief.
"Wow," Sam said to the left of me. "That was fun ! Do you want to do it again?"
I think he was joking.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Later, after I'd stumbled down the stairs — my sense of balance was still off, but getting better — we walked back to the train cars and rested in the shadow of one.
"You saved my life," I said softly.
"It was nothing," Sam said. "You would have done the same for me."
"Probably," I said. "But I wasn't called upon to help. I wasn't the one who had to use his head and act cool. You saved me, Sam. I owe you my life."
"Keep it." He laughed. "What would I do with it?"
"I'm serious, Sam. I owe you big-time. Anything you ever want or need, just ask, and I'll do anything to get it for you."
"You mean that?"
"Cross my heart," I swore.
"There is one thing," he said.
"Name it."
"I want to join the Cirque Du Freak."
"Saaaammmm…" I groaned.
"You asked what I wanted, so I'm telling you," he replied.
"It's not that easy," I protested.
"Yes it is," he said. "You can talk to the owner and put in a good word for me. Come on, Darren, did you mean what you said or not?"
"All right." I sighed. "I'll ask Mr. Tall."
"When?"
"Today," I promised. "As soon as I get back."
"All right!" Sam tried to high-five me.
"But if he says no," I warned him, "that's the end of it, okay? I'll do what
I can, but if Mr. Tall says no, that means no."
"Sure," Sam said. "That's fine by me."
"Maybe there's a job for me, too," somebody said behind my back.
I spun around quickly, and there was R.V., smiling strangely.
"You shouldn't creep up on people like that," I snapped. "You scared me."
"Sorry, man," R.V. said, but he didn't look very sorry.
"What are you doing out here?" Sam asked.
"I wanted to find Darren," R.V. said. "I never got a chance to thank him for my ticket."
"That's okay," I said. "I'm sorry I wasn't around to see you when it was over, but I had to go somewhere else."
"Sure," R.V. said, sitting down on the track beside me. "I can understand that. A show that size, there must be lots to do, huh? I bet they keep you real busy, right, man?"
"Right," I said.
R.V. grinned, and stared at the two of us. There was something about the way he was smiling that made me uneasy. It wasn't a nice smile.
"Tell me," R.V. said, "how's the wolf-man doing?"
"He's fine," I said.
"He's chained up all the time, isn't he?" R.V. asked.
"No," I said, remembering Evra's warning.
"He's not?" R.V. acted surprised. "A wild beast like him, savage and dangerous, and he isn't locked up?"
"He's not really dangerous," I said. "That's an act. He's pretty tame, actually." I could see Sam staring at me. He knew how wild the wolf-man was and didn't get why I was lying.
"Tell me, man, what does a thing like that eat?" R.V. asked.
"Steak. Pork chops. Sausages." I forced a smile. "The usual stuff. All store-bought."
"Really? What about the goat that spider bit? Who eats that?"
"I don't know."
"Evra said the two of you bought the goat from a local farmer. Did it cost much?"
"Not really," I said. "It was pretty sick, so it —"
I stopped. Evra had told R.V. we bought the goat from a butcher , not a farmer.
"I've been doing a little investigating, man," R.V. said softly. "Everybody else in my camp has been getting ready to move on, but I've been walking around, counting sheep and cows, asking questions, digging for bones.