Cirque Du Freak The Vampire's Assistant (16 page)

The wolf-man roared angrily and swiped at my arm. This time he connected, just below where it joined with my shoulder. The force of the blow deadened my arm, which became a useless lump of flesh and bone. I dropped the bar, then reached for it with my other hand.

But the wolf-man was quicker. He snatched up the bar and tossed it far away, where it fell with a clang, lost to the darkness.

He stood slowly, grinning nastily. I could read the expression in his eyes and knew, if he could speak, he would be saying something like: "Now, Darren Shan, you're mine! You had your fun and games, but now it's killing time!"

He grabbed my body by the sides, opened his mouth wide, and leaned forward to bite my face off. I could smell the stench of his breath and see bits of meat and shirt from R.V.'s arms stuck between his yellow teeth.

Before he could snap his jaws shut, something hit the side of his head and knocked him off-balance.

I could see Sam behind him, a heavy chunk of wood in his hands. He hit the wolf-man again, this time making his hands let go.

"One good turn deserves another!" Sam screamed crazily, slamming the wood into the wolf-man for a third time. "Come on! We have to -"

I never heard Sam's next words. Because as I started toward him, the wolf-man lashed out

blindly with one of his fists. It was a wild shot, but he got lucky and it slammed into my face, knocking me backward.

My head almost exploded. I saw bright lights and huge stars, then slumped to the ground, passed out.

When I came to a few seconds or minutes later - I don't even know how much time had passed -

the railroad station was eerily quiet. I couldn't hear anybody running or screaming or fighting.

All I could hear was a steady munching sound, a little way ahead of me.

Munch, munch, munch.

I sat up slowly, ignoring the hammering pain in my head.

It took my eyes a few seconds to readjust to the darkness. When I could see again, I realized I was gazing at the back of the wolf-man. He was crouched on all fours, head bent over something.

He was the one making the munching sounds.

The dizziness from the punch meant it took me a while to realize it wasn't a something he was eating... it was a someone.

SAM!!!

I scrambled to my feet, pain forgotten, and rushed forward, but one look at the bloody mess beneath the wolf-man and I knew I was too late.

"NO !" I screamed and punched the wolf-man with my one good hand, attacking senselessly.

He grunted and shoved me away. I sprang back and this time kicked as well as punched. He

growled and tried shoving again, but I held on and pulled his hair and ears.

He howled then and finally lifted his mouth. It was red, a dark, awful red, full of guts and blood and pieces of flesh and bone.

He rolled on top of me, forcing me down, and pinned me with one long, hairy arm. His head shot back and he howled up at the night sky. Then, with a demonic snarl, he drove his teeth toward my throat, meaning to finish me off with one quick bite.

At the last possible moment, a pair of hands appeared out of the darkness and grabbed the wolf-man's jaw, stopping his plunge.

The hands twisted the head to one side, causing the wolf-man to shriek and fall off me.

His attacker climbed onto his back and held him down. I saw fists flying faster than my eyes could follow, and then the wolf-man was lying unconscious on the ground.

His attacker stood and pulled me to my feet. I found myself gazing up into the flushed, scarred face of Mr. Crepsley.

"I came as soon as I could," the vampire said somberly, turning my head gently to the left and right, examining the damage. "Evra heard the howls of the wolf-man. He did not know about you and the boy. He just thought the creature had burst free.

"Evra told Mr. Tall, who canceled the rest of the show and organized a search party. Then I thought of you. When I saw your bed was empty, I searched around and found your trail."

"I thought... I was going to... die," I moaned, finding it hard to speak. I was bruised all over and suffering from shock. "I was certain. I thought... nobody would come. I..."

I threw my good arm around Mr. Crepsley and hugged him hard.

"Thank you," I sobbed. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank -"

I stopped, remembering my fallen friend.

"Sam!" I screamed. I let go of Mr. Crepsley and rushed to where he was lying.

The wolf-man had torn Sam's stomach open and eaten a lot of his insides. Amazingly, Sam was still alive when I got to him. His eyelids were fluttering, and he was breathing lightly.

"Sam, are you okay?" I whispered. It was a stupid question, but the only one my trembling lips could form. "Sam?" I brushed his forehead with my fingers, but he showed no signs of hearing or feeling me. He just lay there, with his eyes staring up at me.

Mr. Crepsley knelt down beside me and checked Sam's body.

"Can you save him?" I cried. He shook his head slowly. "You have to!" I shouted. "You can close the wounds. We can call a doctor. You can give him a potion. There must be some way to -

"

"Darren," he said softly, "there is nothing we can do. He is dying. The damage is too great.

Another couple of minutes and..." He sighed. "At least he is beyond feeling. There will be no pain."

"No!" I screamed, and threw myself onto Sam. I was crying bitterly, sobbing so hard it hurt.

"Sam! You can't die! Sam! Stay alive! You can join the Cirque and travel with us all over the world. You can... you..."

I could say no more, only lower my head, cling to Sam, and let the tears pour down my face.

In the deserted old railroad yard, the wolf-man lay unconscious behind me. Mr. Crepsley sat silently by my side. Underneath me, Sam Grest - who'd been my friend and saved my life - lay perfectly still and slipped further and further into the final sleep of an unfair and horrible death.

After a while, I felt somebody tugging at the sleeve of my left arm. I looked around. Mr.

Crepsley was standing over me, looking miserable.

"Darren," he said, "it will not seem like the right time, but there is something you must do. For Sam's sake. And your own."

"What are you talking about?" I wiped some of the tears from my face and stared up at him. "Can we save him? Tell me if we can. I'll do anything."

"There is nothing we can do to save his body," Mr. Crepsley told me. "He is dying and nothing can change that. But there is something we can do for his spirit.

"Darren," he said, "you must drink Sam's blood."

I went on staring at him, but now it was a stare of disbelief, not hope.

"How could you?" I whispered with disgust. "One of my best friends is dying, and all you can think about... You're sick! You're a sick, twisted monster. You should be dying, not Sam. I hate you. Get out of here."

"You do not understand," he said.

"Yes I do!" I screamed. "Sam's dying, but all you're worried about is blooding me. Do you know what you are? You're a no-good -"

"Do you remember our discussion about vampires being able to absorb part of a person's spirit?"

he asked.

I was just about to call him something awful, but his question confused me.

"What's that got to do with this?" I asked.

"Darren, this is important. Do you remember?"

"Yes," I said softly. "What about it?"

"Sam is dying," Mr. Crepsley said. "A few more minutes and he will be gone. Forever. But you can keep part of him alive within you if you drink from him now and take this life before the wounds of the wolf-man can."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"You want me to kill Sam?" I screamed.

"No," he sighed. "Sam has already been killed. But if you finish him off before he dies from the bites of the wolf-man, you will save some of his memories and feelings. In you he can live on."

I shook my head. "I can't drink his blood," I whispered. "Not Sam's." I glanced down at the small, savaged body. "I can't."

Mr. Crepsley sighed. "I will not force you to," he said. "But think carefully about it. What happened tonight is a tragedy that will haunt you for a very long time, but if you drink from Sam and absorb part of his essence, dealing with his death will be easier. Losing a loved one is hard.

This way, you need not lose all of him."

"I can't drink from him," I sobbed. "He was my friend."

"It is because he was your friend that you must," Mr. Crepsley said, then turned away and left me to decide.

I stared down at Sam. He looked so lifeless, like he'd already lost everything that made him human, alive, unique. I thought of his jokes and long words and hopes and dreams, and how awful it would be if all of that just disappeared with his death.

Kneeling, I placed the fingers of my left hand on Sam's red neck. "I'm sorry, Sam," I moaned, then dug my sharp nails into his soft flesh, leaned forward, and stuck my mouth over the holes they'd made.

Blood gushed in and made me gag. I nearly fell away, but with an effort I held my place and gulped it down. His blood was hot and salty and ran down my throat like thick, creamy butter.

Sam's pulse slowed as I drank, then stopped. But I went on drinking, swallowing every last drop, absorbing.

When I'd finally sucked him dry, I turned away and howled at the sky like the wolf-man had. For a long time that's all I could do, howl and scream and cry like the wild animal of the night that I'd become.

Mr. Tall and a bunch of others from the Cirque Du Freak - including four Little People - arrived a little later. I was sitting by Sam's side, too tired to howl anymore, staring blankly into space, feeling his blood settle in my stomach.

"What's the story?" Mr. Tall asked Mr. Crepsley. "How did the wolf-man get free?"

"I do not know, Hibernius," Mr. Crepsley replied. "I have not asked and do not intend to, not for a night or two at least. Darren is in no shape for an interrogation."

"Is the wolf-man dead?" Mr. Tall asked.

"No," Mr. Crepsley said. "I merely knocked him out."

"Thank heaven for small mercies." Mr. Tall sighed. He clicked his fingers and the Little People chained up the unconscious wolf-man. A van from the show pulled up and they bundled him into the back.

I thought about demanding the wolf-man's death, but what good would it have been? He wasn't evil, just naturally mad. Killing him would have been pointless and cruel.

When they'd finished with the wolf-man, the Little People's attention turned to Sam's shredded remains.

"Hold on," I said, as they bent to pick him up and cart him away. "What are they going to do with Sam?"

Mr. Tall coughed uncomfortably. "I, ah, imagine they intend to dispose of him," he said.

It took me a moment to realize what that meant. "They're going to eat him?" I shrieked.

"We can't just leave him here," Mr. Tall reasoned, "and we don't have time to bury him. This is the easiest -"

"No," I said firmly.

"Darren," Mr. Crepsley said, "we should not interfere with -"

"No!" I shouted, striding over to shove the Little People backward. "If they want to eat Sam, they'll have to eat me first!"

The Little People stared at me wordlessly, with hungry green eyes.

"I think they'd be quite happy to accommodate you," Mr. Tall said drily.

"I mean it," I growled. "I won't let them eat Sam. He deserves a proper burial."

"So that worms can devour him?" Mr. Tall asked, then sighed when I glared at him, and shook his head irritably.

"Let the boy have his way, Hibernius," Mr. Crepsley said quietly. "You may return to the Cirque with the others. I will stay and help dig the grave."

"Very well." Mr. Tall shrugged. He whistled and pointed a finger at the Little People. They hesitated, then backed away and crowded around the owner of the Cirque Du Freak, leaving me alone with the dead Sam Grest.

Mr. Tall and his assistants left. Mr. Crepsley sat down beside me.

"How are you?" he asked.

I shook my head. There was no simple answer to that.

"Do you feel stronger?"

"Yes," I said softly. Even though it hadn't been long since I'd drank Sam's blood, already I noticed a difference. My eyesight had improved and so had my hearing, and my battered body didn't hurt nearly as much as it should.

"You will not have to drink again for a long time," he said.

"I don't care. I didn't do it for me. I did it for Sam."

"Are you angry with me?" he asked.

"No," I said slowly.

"Darren," he said, "I hope -"

"I don't want to talk about it!" I snapped. "I'm cold, sore, miserable, and lonely. I want to think about Sam, not waste words on you."

"As you wish," he said, and began digging in the soil with his fingers. I dug beside him in silence for a few minutes, then paused and looked over.

"I'm a real vampire's assistant now, aren't I?" I asked.

He nodded sadly. "Yes. You are."

"Does that make you glad?"

"No," he said. "It makes me feel ashamed."

As I stared at him, confused, a figure appeared above us. It was the Little Person with the limp.

"If you think you're taking Sam..." I warned him, raising a dirt-encrusted hand. Before I got any further, he jumped into the shallow hole, stuck his wide, gray-skinned fingers into the soil, and clawed up large clumps.

"He's helping us?" I asked, puzzled.

"It seems like it," Mr. Crepsley said, and laid a hand on my back. "Rest," he advised. "We can dig faster by ourselves. I will call you when it is time to bury your friend."

I nodded, crawled out, and lay down on the bank beside the quickly forming grave. After a while I shuffled out of the way and sat, waiting, in the shadows of the old railroad station. Just me and my thoughts. And Sam's dark, red blood on my lips and between my teeth.

We buried Sam without much talk - I couldn't think of anything to say - and filled in the grave.

We didn't hide it, so he'd be discovered by the police and given a real burial soon. I wanted his parents to be able to give him a ceremony, but this would keep him safe from scavenging