Cirque Du Freak 03 - Tunnels Of Blood

"My dad doesn't like me going out at night," I lied. "He feels a little guilty, not being around during the day. He likes Evra and me to sit with him at night and tell him what we've been up to."

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you went out now and then," Debbie protested. "He let you out the night of our first date, didn't he?"

I shook my head. "I snuck out," I said. "He went crazy when he found out. Wouldn't speak to me for a week. That's why I haven't introduced you to him — he's still fuming."

"He sounds like a mean old man," Debbie said.

"He is." I sighed. "But what can I do? He's my dad. I have to stick by him."

I felt bad lying to her, but I could hardly tell her the truth. I smiled to myself when I imagined breaking the news: "That guy I say is my father? He's not. He's a vampire. Oh, and I think he's the one who killed those six people."

"What are you smiling at?" Debbie asked.

"Nothing," I said quickly, wiping the smile from my face.

It was a strange double life — normal boy by day, deadly vampire-tracker by night — but I was enjoying it. If it had been a year or so earlier, I would have been confused; I would have tossed and turned in my sleep, worrying about what the next night would bring; my eating habits might have been affected and I would have become depressed; I probably would have chosen to focus on one thing at a time, and stopped meeting Debbie.

Not now. My experiences with Mr. Crepsley and the Cirque Du Freak had changed me. I was able to handle two different roles. In fact, I liked the variation: tracking the vampire at night made me feel big and important — Darren Shan, protector of the sleeping city! — and seeing Debbie in the afternoons let me feel like a normal human boy. I had the best of both worlds.

That stopped when Mr. Crepsley zoomed in on the next victim — the fat man.

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

I didn't realize at first that Mr. Crepsley was following someone. He was hovering above a busy shopping street, where he'd been for almost an hour, studying the shoppers. Then, without warning, he climbed to the top of the building he'd been clinging to and started across the roof.

I called Evra. He never called me, for fear the vampire would hear my phone. "He's on the move again," I said quietly.

"About time," Evra grumbled. "I hate it when he stops. You don't know how cold it gets, standing still down here."

"Go get something to eat," I told him. "He's moving pretty slowly. I think you can take five or ten minutes off."

"Are you sure?" Evra asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I'll call you if anything happens."

"Okay," Evra said. "I'd love a hot dog and a cup of hot chocolate. You want me to pick something up for you?"

"No thanks," I said. "I'll keep in touch. See you soon." I hit the off switch and started after the vampire.

I didn't like eating stuff like hot dogs, burgers, or French fries while tracking Mr. Crepsley: his nose could easily detect such strong scents. I ate dry slices of bread — which produced almost no smell — to keep my hunger down. I had ordinary tap water in a bottle to drink.

After a couple of minutes I got curious. The other nights, he'd either stayed in one spot or wandered around without direction. He was moving with purpose this time.

I decided to get closer. It was dangerous, especially since he wasn't rushing — he was more likely to spot me — but I had to see what he was up to.

Closing the gap by a third — as near to him as I dared get — I saw that he was sticking his head out over the edge of the roof, keeping a watch on the street below.

Looking down at the well-lit street, I couldn't spot who he was after. It was only when he paused above a lamp that I noticed the fat man at the base, adjusting his shoelaces.

That was it! Mr. Crepsley was after the fat man! I knew by the way the vampire stared, waiting for him to tie his shoelaces and move on. When the fat man finally stood up and started walking again, sure enough, Mr. Crepsley followed.

Taking a few steps back, I called Evra.

"What's up?" he asked. I could hear him munching on his hot dog. There were voices in the background.

"Action," I said simply.

"Oh, hell!" Evra gasped. I heard him dropping the hot dog and shuffling away from the people behind him, to a quieter spot. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Positive," I said. "The prey has been sighted."

"Okay," Evra sighed. He sounded nervous. I didn't blame him — I was nervous, too. "Okay," he said again. "Give me your position."

I read out the name of the street. "But don't rush," I told him. "They're moving slowly. Stay a couple of streets back. I don't want Mr. Crepsley spotting you."

" Idon't want him spotting me either!" Evra snorted. "Keep me up to date."

"Will do," I promised. Clicking off the phone, I started after the pursuing vampire.

He trailed the fat man to a large building, which the human disappeared into. Mr. Crepsley waited half an hour, then slowly circled the building, checking on windows and doors. I trudged along behind, keeping my distance, ready to race after him if he entered.