Darren Shan - Cirque Du Freak

"You're the one who sneaked into the living room!" I gasped, remembering the mysterious late-night visitor.

"Yes." He nodded. "The doctors were very quick to sign your death certificate. I wanted to check for myself, to see if you were still ticking."

"The piece of paper in my mouth?" I asked.

"Litmus paper," he said. "It changes color when you stick it on a damp surface. When you stick it on a living body. That and the marks on the fingers tipped me off."

"You know about the marks on the fingers?" I asked, amazed.

"I read about it in a very old book," he said. "The same one, in fact, that I found Vur Horston's portrait in. There was no mention of it anywhere else, so I thought it was just another vampire myth. But then I studied your fingers and…"

He stopped and cocked his head. I realized I could no longer hear digging sounds. For a moment there was silence. Then Mr. Crepsley's voice hissed across the graveyard.

"Darren, where are you?" he called. "Darren?"

Steve's face collapsed with fear. I could hear his heart beating and see the beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks. He didn't know what to do. He hadn't thought this through.

"I'm fine," I shouted, causing Steve to jump.

"Where are you?" Mr. Crepsley asked.

"Over here," I replied, standing, ignoring Steve's stake. "My legs were weak, so I lay down for a minute."

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm fine," I said. "I'll rest a little longer, then try them again. Give me a shout when you're ready."

I squatted back down so I was face to face with Steve. He didn't look so brave anymore. The tip of the stake was pointing down at the ground, a threat no more, and his whole body sagged miserably. I felt sorry for him.

"Why did you come here, Steve?" I asked.

"To kill you," he said.

"To kill me? For heaven's sake, why?" I asked.

"You're a vampire," he said. "What other reason do I need?"

"But you've got nothing against vampires," I reminded him. " You wanted to become one."

"Yes," he snarled. " I wanted to, but you're the one who did. You planned this all along, didn't you? You told him I was evil. You made him reject me so that you could…"

"You're talking nonsense." I sighed. "I never wanted to become a vampire. I only agreed to join him in order to save your life. You would have died if I hadn't become his assistant."

"A likely story," he snorted. "To think I used to believe you were my friend. Ha!"

"I am your friend!" I cried. "Steve, you don't understand. I would never do anything to harm you. I hate what's happened to me. I only did it to…"

"Spare me the sob story," he sniffed. "How long were you planning this? You must have gone to him that night of the freak show. That's how you got Madam Octa, wasn't it? He gave her to you in return for your becoming his assistant."

"No, Steve, that's not true. You mustn't believe that." But he did believe it. I could see it in his eyes. Nothing I said was going to change his opinion. As far as he was concerned, I'd betrayed him. I had stolen the life he felt should have been his. He would never forgive me.

"I'm going now," he said, starting to crawl away. "I thought I'd be able to kill you tonight, but I was wrong. I'm too young. I'm not strong enough or brave enough.

"But heed this, Darren Shan," he said. "I'll grow. I'll get older and stronger and braver. I'm going to devote my entire life to developing my body and my mind, and when the day comes…when I'm ready…when I'm fully equipped and properly prepared…

" I'm going to hunt you down and kill you" he vowed. "I'm going to become the world's best vampire hunter and there won't be a single hole you can find that I won't be able to find, too. Not a hole or a rock or a cellar.

"I'll track you to the ends of the Earth if I have to." he said, his face glowing madly. "You and your mentor. And when I find you, I'll drive steel-tipped stakes through your hearts, then chop off your heads and fill them with garlic. Then I'll burn you to ashes and scatter you across running water. I won't take any chances. I'll make sure you never come back from the grave again!"

He paused, produced a knife, and cut a small cross into the flesh of his left palm. He held it up so I could see the blood dripping from the wound.

"On this blood, I swear it!" he declared, then turned and ran, disappearing in seconds into the shadows of the night.

I could have run after him, following the trail of blood. If I'd called Mr. Crepsley, we could have tracked him down and put an end to both Steve Leopard and his threats. It would have been the wise thing to do.

But I didn't. I couldn't. He was my friend…

MR. CREPSLEY WAS SMOOTHING OVER the mound of earth when I returned. I watched him work. The shovel was large and heavy but he handled it as if it were made out of paper. I wondered how strong he was and how strong I would one day be.

I considered telling him about Steve but was afraid he'd go after him. Steve had suffered enough. Besides, his threat was an idle one. He'd forget about me and Mr. Crepsley in a few weeks, when something new grabbed his attention.

I hoped.

Mr. Crepsley looked up and frowned. "Are you sure you are all right?" he asked. "You seem very uptight."

"So would you if you'd spent the day in a coffin," I replied.

He laughed out loud. "Master Shan, I have spent more time in coffins than many of the truly dead!" He gave the grave one last hard whack, then broke the shovel into little pieces and tossed them away. "Is the stiffness wearing off?" he asked.

"It's better than it was," I said, twisting my arms and waist. "I wouldn't like to fake my death too often, though."

"No," he mused. "Well, hopefully it will not be necessary again. It is a dangerous stunt. Many things can go wrong."

I stared at him. "You told me I'd be safe," I said.

"I lied. The potion sometimes drives its patients too far toward death and they never recover. And I could not be sure they would not perform an autopsy on you. And…Do you want to hear all this?" he asked.

"No," I said sickly. "I don't." I took an angry swing at him. He ducked out of the way easily, laughing as he did.

"You told me it was safe!" I shouted. "You lied!"

"I had to," he said. "There was no other way."

"What if I'd died?" I snapped.

He shrugged. "I would be down one assistant. No great loss. I am sure I could have found another."

"You…you…Oh!" I kicked the ground angrily. There were lots of things I could have called him but I didn't like using bad language in the presence of the dead. I'd tell him what I thought about his trickery later.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked.

"Give me a minute," I said. I jumped up on one of the taller headstones and gazed around at the town. I couldn't see much from here but this would be my last glimpse of the place where I had been born and lived, so I took my time and treated every dark alley as a posh cul-de-sac, every crumbling house as a sheik's palace, every two-story building as a skyscraper.

"You will grow used to leaving after a time," Mr. Crepsley said. He was standing on the stone behind me, perched on little more than thin air. His face was gloomy. "Vampires are always saying good-bye. We never stop anywhere very long. We are forever picking up our roots and moving on to new pastures. It is our way."

"Is the first time the hardest?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, nodding. "But it never gets easy."

"How long before I get used to it?" I wanted to know.

"Maybe a few decades," he said. "Maybe longer."

Decades . He said it as though he was talking of months.

"Can't we ever make friends?" I asked. "Can't we ever have homes or wives or families?"