Cirque du Freak 3 - Tunnels of Blood Page 3

  "You mean you'd fire me?" I smiled bitterly.

  "There is only one way to deal with a rebellious half-vampire," he answered, and I knew what that way was — a stake through the heart!

  "It's not fair," I grumbled. "What am I going to do by myself all day in a strange city while you're asleep?"

  "What did you do when you were a human?" he asked.

  "Things were different," I said. "I had friends and a family. I'm going to be alone again if we leave, like when I first joined up with you."

  "It will be hard," Mr. Crepsley said compassionately, "but we have no choice. I must be away with the coming of dusk — I would leave now, were we not so near to dawn — and you must come with me. There is no other…"

  He stopped as a thought struck him. "Of course," he said slowly, "we could bring another along."

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  "We could take Evra with us."

  I frowned as I considered it.

  "The two of you are good friends, yes?" Mr. Crepsley asked.

  "Yes," I said, "but I don't know how he'd feel about leaving. And there's his snake. What would we do with that?"

  "I am sure somebody could look after the snake," Mr. Crepsley said, warming to the idea. "Evra would be good company for you. And he is wiser: he could keep you out of mischief when I am not around."

  "I don't need a baby-sitter!" I huffed.

  "No," Mr. Crepsley agreed, "but a guardian would not go amiss. You have a habit of getting into trouble when left to your own devices. Remember when you stole Madam Octa? And the mess we had with that human boy, Sam whatever his name was?"

  "That wasn't my fault!" I yelled.

  "Indeed not," Mr. Crepsley said. "But it happened when you were by yourself."

  I made a face but didn't say anything.

  "Will I ask him or not?" Mr. Crepsley pressed the issue.

  "I'll ask him," I said. "You'd probably bully him into going."

  "Have it your own way." Mr. Crepsley rose. "I will go and clear it with Hibernius." That was Mr. Tail's first name. "Be back here before dawn so I can brief you — I want to make sure we are prepared to travel as soon as night falls."

  Evra took a lot of time deciding. He didn't like the idea of parting company with his friends in the Cirque Du Freak — or with his snake.

  "It won't be forever," I told him.

  "I know," he said uncertainly.

  "Look at it as a vacation," I suggested.

  "I like the idea of a vacation," he admitted. "But it would be nice to know where I was going."

  "Sometimes surprises are more fun," I said.

  "And sometimes they aren't," Evra muttered.

  "Mr. Crepsley will be asleep all day," I reminded him. "We'll be free to do whatever we want. We can go sightseeing, to the movies, swimming, anything we want."

  "I've never been swimming," Evra said, and I could tell by the way he grinned that he'd decided to come.

  "I'll tell Mr. Tall you're coming?" I asked. "And get him to have someone take care of your snake?"

  Evra nodded. "She doesn't like the cold weather in any case," he said. "She'll be asleep most of the winter."

  "Great!" I grinned. "We'll have a blast."

  "We'd better," he said, "or it'll be the last time I go on 'vacation' with you."

  I spent the rest of the day packing and unpacking. I only had two small bags to bring, one for me and one for Mr. Crepsley, but — apart from my diary, which went everywhere with me — I kept changing my mind about what to bring.

  Then I remembered Madam Octa — I wasn't bringing her along — and hurried off to find somebody to look after her. Hans Hands agreed to watch her, although he said there was no way he'd let her out of her cage.

  Finally, after hours of running around — Mr. Crepsley had it easy, the wily old goat! — night came and it was time to leave.

  Mr. Crepsley checked the bags and nodded stiffly. I told him about leaving Madam Octa with Hans Hands and again he nodded. "We picked up Evra, said good-bye to Mr. Tall and some of the others, then turned away from the camp and began walking.

  "Will you be able to carry both of us when you flit?" I asked Mr. Crepsley.

  "I have no intention of flitting," he said.

  "Then how are we going to travel?" I asked.

  "Buses and trains," he replied. He laughed when I looked surprised. "Vampires can use public transportation as well as humans. There are no laws against it."

  "I suppose not," I said, grinning, wondering what other passengers would think if they knew they were traveling with a vampire, a half-vampire, and a snake-boy. "Should we go then?" I asked.

  "Yes," Mr. Crepsley answered simply, and the three of us headed into town to catch the first train out.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It felt strange being in a city. The noise and smell almost drove me crazy the first couple of days: with my heightened senses it was like being in the middle of a whirring blender. I lay in bed during the daytime, covering my head with the thickest pillow I could find. But by the end of the week I'd grown used to the supersharp sounds and scents and learned to ignore them.

  We stayed at a hotel located in the corner of a quiet city square. In the evenings, when traffic was slow, neighborhood kids gathered outside for a game of soccer. I would have loved to join in but didn't dare — with my extra strength, I might accidentally end up breaking somebody's bones, or worse.

  By the start of our second week, we'd fallen into a comfortable routine. Evra and me woke up every morning — Mr. Crepsley went off by himself at night without telling us where — and ate a big breakfast. After that we'd head out and explore the city, which was big and old and full of interesting stuff. We'd get back to the hotel at nightfall, in case Mr. Crepsley wanted us, then watch some TV or play computer games. We usually got to bed between eleven and twelve.

  After a year with the Cirque Du Freak, it was a thrill to live like a normal human again. I loved being able to sleep late in the morning, not having to worry about finding food for the Little People; it was great not to be rushing around, running errands for the performers; and sitting back at night, stuffing my face with candy and pickled onions and watching TV — that was the best!

  Evra was enjoying himself, too. He'd never known a life like this. He'd been part of the circus world for as long as he could remember, first with a nasty sideshow owner, then with Mr. Tall. He liked the Cirque — I did, too — and was looking forward to returning, but he had to admit it was nice to have a break.

  "I never realized TV could be so addictive," he said one night, after we'd watched five shows in a row.

  "My mom and dad never let me watch too much," I told him, "but I knew guys in school who watched five or six hours of it every night of the week!"

  "I wouldn't take it that far," Evra mused, "but it's fun in small doses. Maybe I'll buy a portable TV when we get back to the Cirque Du Freak."

  "I never thought of getting a TV since I joined," I said. "So much else was going on, it was the last thing on my mind. But you're right — it would be nice to have a TV, even if we could only watch reruns of The Simpsons." That was our favorite show.

  I wondered sometimes what Mr. Crepsley was up to — he'd always been mysterious, but never this secretive — but in truth I wasn't overly bothered: it was nice to have him out of my hair.

  Evra had to wrap up in layers of clothes whenever we went out. Not because of the cold — though it was chilly: the first snow had fallen a couple of days after our arrival — but because of how he looked. Although he didn't mind people staring at him — he was used to it — it was easier to get around if he was able to pass for a normal human. That way he didn't have to stop every five or ten minutes to explain to a curious stranger who and what he was.

  Covering his body, legs, and arms was easy — pants, a sweatshirt, and gloves — but his face was tricky: it wasn't as heavily scaled or colored as the rest of him, but it wasn't the face of an ordinary human. A big baseball
hat took care of his long yellow-green hair, and dark glasses shaded a lot of the upper half of his face. But as for the lower half…

  We experimented with bandages and flesh-colored paints before hitting on the answer: a fake beard! We bought it in a joke shop, and although it looked silly — nobody would mistake it for a real one — it did the job.

  "We must look like quite a pair," Evra said with a giggle one day as we strolled around a zoo. "You in your pirate costume, me in this getup. People probably think we're a couple of escaped crazies."

  "The people at the hotel definitely do." I giggled. "I've heard the bellboys and maids talking about us — they think Mr. Crepsley is a mad doctor and we're two of his patients."

  "Yeah?" Evra laughed. "Imagine if they knew the truth — that you're a couple of vampires and I'm a snake-boy!"

  "I don't think it would matter," I said. Mr. Crepsley tips well, and that's the important thing. 'Money buys privacy,' as I heard one of the managers say when a maid was complaining about a guy who'd been walking around naked in the corridors."

  "I saw him!" Evra exclaimed. "I thought he locked himself out of his room."

  "Nope," I smiled. "Apparently he's been walking around like that for four or five days. According to the manager, he comes every year for a couple of weeks and spends the entire time roaming around naked as a baby."

  "They let him?" Evra asked in awe.

  " 'Money buys privacy,'" I repeated.

  "And I thought the Cirque Du Freak was a strange place to live," Evra muttered wryly. "Humans are even weirder than us!"

  As the days passed, the city became more and more Christmasy as people geared themselves up for the twenty-fifth of December. Christmas trees appeared; lights and decorations lit up the streets and windows each night; Father Christmas touched down and took orders; toys of every shape and size filled store shelves from floor to ceiling.

  I was looking forward to Christmas: last year's had passed unnoticed, since Christmas was something hardly anyone associated with the Cirque Du Freak bothered celebrating.

  Evra couldn't understand what the fuss was about.

  "What's the point of it?" he kept asking. "People spend a bunch of money buying each other presents they don't really need; they drive themselves half-crazy getting a big dinner ready; trees and turkey are bred and slaughtered in huge numbers. It's ridiculous!"

  I tried telling him that it was a day of peace and goodwill, when families come together and rejoice, but he wouldn't listen. As far as he was concerned, it was a crazy money-making racket.

  Mr. Crepsley, of course, only snorted whenever the subject was brought up. "A silly human custom," was how he put it. He didn't want anything to do with the festival.

  It would be a lonely Christmas without my family — I missed them more at this time of the year than ever, especially Annie — but at the same time, I was looking forward to it. The hotel staff were throwing a big party for the guests. There'd be turkey and ham and Christmas cake and cookies. I was determined to make Evra get some Christmas spirit: I was sure he'd change his opinion when he experienced Christmas firsthand.

  "Want to come shopping?" I asked one frosty afternoon, wrapping a scarf around my neck (I didn't need it — my vampire blood kept me warm — or the thick coat or heavy sweatshirt, but I'd draw attention if I went out without them).

  Evra glanced out the window. It had been snowing earlier and the world outside was frosty-white.

  "Nah," he said. "I don't feel like getting into heavy clothes again." We'd been out that morning, throwing snowballs at each other.

  "Okay," I said, glad he wasn't coming: I wanted to look over a few presents for him. "I won't be more than an hour or two."

  "Will you be back before dark?" Evra asked.

  "Maybe," I said.

  "You'd better be." He nodded toward the room where Mr. Crepsley lay sleeping. "You know how it goes: the one night you aren't here when he wakes will be the one night he wants you."

  I laughed. "I'll risk it. Want me to bring you back anything?" Evra shook his head. "Okay. See you soon."

  I walked through the snow, whistling to myself. I liked snow: it covered up most of the smells and muffled a lot of the noise. Some of the kids who lived in the square were out building a snowman. I stopped to watch them but moved on before they could ask me to join in: it was easier not to get involved with humans.

  As I stood outside a large department store, studying the window display, wondering what to buy Evra, a girl walked over and stood beside me. She was dark-skinned, with long black hair. She looked about my age and was a little shorter than me.

  "Ahoy, cap'n," she said, saluting.

  "Excuse me?" I replied, startled.

  "The costume," she grinned, tugging my coat open. "I think it's cool, you look like a pirate. You going in or just looking?"

  "I don't know," I said. "I'm looking for a present for my brother, but I'm not sure what to get him." That was our story — that Evra and me were brothers, and Mr. Crepsley was our father.

  "Oh." She nodded. "How old is he?"

  "A year older than me," I said.

  "Aftershave," she said firmly.

  I shook my head. "He hasn't started shaving yet." And never would: hairs wouldn't grow on Evra's scales.

  "Okay," she said. "How about a CD?"

  "He doesn't listen to much music," I said. "Although if I got him a CD player, he might start."

  "Those are expensive," the girl said.

  "He's my only brother," I said. "He's worth it."

  "Then go for it." She held out a hand. She wasn't wearing gloves, despite the cold. "My name's Debbie."

  I shook her hand — mine looked very white compared with her dark skin — and told her my name.

  "Darren and Debbie." She smiled. "That sounds good, like Bonnie and Clyde."

  "Do you always talk to strangers like this?" I asked.

  "No," she said. "But we're not strangers."

  "We're not?" I frowned.

  "I've seen you around," she said. "I live in the square, a few doors up from the hotel. That's how I knew about the pirate costume. You hang out with that funny guy in glasses and a fake beard."

  "Evra. He's the one I'm buying the present for." I tried placing her face but couldn't remember seeing her with the other kids. "I haven't noticed you around," I said.

  "I haven't been out much," she replied. "I've been in bed with a cold. That's why I spotted you — I've been spending my days staring out the window, studying the square. Life gets really boring when you're stuck in bed."

  Debbie blew into her hands and rubbed them together.

  "You should be wearing gloves," I told her.

  "Look who's talking." She sniffed. I'd forgotten to put on a pair before leaving. "Anyway, that's what I'm here for — I lost my gloves earlier and I've been roaming around from store to store trying to find an identical pair. I don't want my parents to find out I lost them on only my second day out of bed."

  "What were they like?" I asked.

  "Red, with fake fur around the wrists," she said. "My uncle gave them to me a few months ago but didn't say where he got them."

  "Have you tried this place yet?" I asked.

  "Uh-uh," she said. "I was on my way in when I spotted you."

  "Want to come in with me?" I asked.

  "Sure," she said. "I hate shopping by myself. I'll help you choose a CD player if you want. I know a lot about them."

  "Okay," I said, then pushed the door open and held it for her.

  "Why, Darren," she said with a laugh, "people will think you have a crush on me."

  I felt myself blushing and tried to think of an okay response — but couldn't. Debbie giggled, walked in, and left me to trail along behind her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Debbie's last name was Hemlock, and she hated it.

  "Imagine being named after a poisonous plant!" she fumed.

  "It's not that bad," I said. "I kind of like it."

  "Sho
ws what kind of taste you have," she scoffed.

  Debbie had only recently moved here with her parents. She had no brothers or sisters. Her dad was a computer whiz who regularly flew around the world on business. They'd moved five times since she was born.

  She was interested to learn that I was also used to moving around. I didn't tell her about the Cirque Du Freak, but said I was on the road a lot with my dad, who was a traveling salesman.

  Debbie wanted to know why she hadn't seen my father in the square. "I've seen you and your brother lots of times, but never your dad."

  "He's an early riser," I lied. "He gets up before dawn and doesn't come back until after dark most days."

  "He leaves the two of you alone in the hotel?" She pursed her lips as she thought about it. "What about school?" she asked.

  "Are these like the gloves you want?" I avoided the question, picking a pair of red gloves off a rack.

  "Almost," she said, studying them. "Mine were a shade darker."

  We went on to another store and looked at a bunch of CD players. I didn't have much money on me, so I didn't buy anything.

  "Of course, after Christmas they'll be on sale," Debbie sighed, "but what can you do? If you wait, you'll look mean."

  "I'm not worried about the money," I said. I could always get some from Mr. Crepsley.

  After failing to find the right kind of gloves in another couple of stores, we walked around for a while, watching the lights come on above the streets and in the windows.

  "I love this time of evening," Debbie said. "It's like one city goes to sleep and a new one wakes up."

  "A city of nightwalkers," I said, thinking of Mr. Crepsley.

  "Hmmm," she said, looking at me suspiciously. "Where are you from? I can't place your accent."

  "Here and there," I answered vaguely. "Around and about."

  "You're not going to tell me, are you?" she asked directly.

  "My dad doesn't like me telling people," I said.

  "Why not?" she challenged me.