He rubbed his stomach again.

  "It's too early for lunch."

  He rubbed his stomach again.

  I knew that this would go on for hours if I let it. He would patiently follow me around, rubbing his stomach, until I agreed to go hunt for food for him.

  "All right," I snapped. "I'll see what I can find. But I'm on my own today, so if I don't come back with a full bag, tough."

  He rubbed his stomach again.

  I spit on the ground and took off.

  I shouldn't have gone hunting. I was really weak. I could still run faster than a human, and I was stronger than most kids my age, but I wasn't superfit or extrastrong anymore. Mr. Crepsley had said I'd be dead within a week if I didn't drink human blood, and I knew he'd spoken the truth. I could feel myself wasting away. A few more days and I wouldn't be able to pull myself out of bed.

  I tried catching a rabbit but wasn't fast enough. I worked up a sweat chasing it and had to sit down for a few minutes. Next, I went looking for roadkill but couldn't find any dead animals. Finally, because I was tired and half afraid of what would happen if I returned to camp empty-handed (the Little People might decide to eat me!), I headed for a field full of sheep.

  They were grazing peacefully when I arrived. They were used to humans and barely lifted their heads when I entered the field and walked among them.

  I was looking for an old sheep, or one that looked sick. That way I wouldn't have to feel so lousy about killing it. I finally found one with skinny, trembling legs and a dazed expression, and decided she'd do. She looked as though she didn't have long to live, anyway.

  If I'd had my full powers, I would have snapped her neck and she would have been dead in an instant, without any pain. But I was weak and clumsy and didn't twist hard enough the first time.

  The sheep began to bleat with agony.

  She tried running away, but her legs wouldn't carry her. She fell to the ground, where she lay bleating miserably.

  I tried breaking her neck again but couldn't. In the end I grabbed a stone and finished the job. It was a messy, horrible way to kill an animal, and I felt ashamed of myself as I grabbed its back legs and hauled it away from the flock.

  I'd almost reached the fence before I realized somebody was sitting on top of it, waiting for me. I dropped the sheep and looked up, expecting an angry farmer.

  But it wasn't a farmer.

  It was R.V.

  And he was mad as hell.

  "How could you?" he shouted. "How could you kill a poor, innocent animal so cruelly?"

  "I tried killing her quickly," I said. "I tried snapping her neck, but I couldn't. I was going to leave her when I couldn't do it, but she was in pain. I thought it was better to finish her off than leave her to suffer."

  "That's real big of you, man," he said sarcastically.

  "Do you think you'll get the Nobel Peace Prize for that?"

  "Come on, R.V.," I said. "Don't be angry. She was sick. The farmer would have killed her anyway. Even if she'd lived she would have been sent to a butcher in the end."

  "That don't make it right," he said angrily. "Just because other people are nasty, it don't mean you should be nasty, too."

  "Killing animals isn't nasty," I said. "Not when it's for food."

  "What's wrong with vegetables?" he asked. "We don't need to eat meat, man. We don't need to kill."

  "Some people need meat," I disagreed. "Some can't live without it."

  "Then they should be left to die!" R.V. roared. "That sheep never did any harm to anyone. As far as I'm concerned, killing her is worse than killing a human. You're a murderer, Darren Shan."

  I shook my head sadly. There was no point arguing with somebody this stubborn.

  "Look, R.V.," I said. "I don't enjoy killing. I'd be psyched if every person in the world was a vegetarian. But they're not. People eat meat, and that's a fact of life. I'm only doing what I have to."

  "Well, we'll see what the police have to say about it," R.V. said.

  "The police?" I frowned. "What do they have to do with it?"

  "You've killed somebody else's sheep." He laughed cruelly. "Do you think they'll let you get away with that? They won't arrest you for murdering rabbits and foxes, but they'll charge you for killing a sheep. I'll have the police and health inspectors come down on you like a ton of bricks." He grinned.

  "You won't!" I gasped. "You don't like the police. You're always fighting against them."

  "When I have to," he agreed. "But when I can get them on my side …" He laughed again. "They'll arrest you first, then turn your camp upside down. I've been studying the goings-on there. I've seen the way you treat that poor hairy man."

  "The wolf-man?"

  "Yeah. You keep him locked away like an animal."

  "He is an animal," I said.

  "No," R.V. disagreed. "You are the animal, man."

  "R.V., listen," I said. "We don't have to be enemies. Come back to camp with me. Talk to Mr. Tall and the others. See how we live. Get to know and understand us. There's no need to —"

  "Save it," he snapped. I'm getting the police. Nothing you can say will stop me."

  I took a deep breath. I liked R.V. but knew I couldn't allow him to destroy the Cirque Du Freak.

  "All right, then," I said. "If nothing I say can stop you, maybe you'll respond to something I do."

  Summoning all my remaining strength, I threw the dead body of the sheep at R.V. It struck him in the chest and knocked him flying from the fence. He yelled with surprise, then with pain as he landed heavily on the ground.

  I leaped over the fence and was on him before he could move.

  "How did you do that, man?" he whispered.

  "Never mind," I snapped.

  "Kids can't throw sheep," he said. "How did —"

  "Shut up!" I shouted, and slapped his bearded face. He stared up at me, shocked. "Listen, Reggie Veggie," I growled, using the name he hated, "and listen good. You won't go to the police or the health inspectors. Because if you do, the sheep won't be the only dead body I drag back to the Cirque Du Freak today."

  "What are you?" he asked. His voice was trembling, and his eyes were filled with terror.

  "I'm the end of you if you screw with me," I swore.

  I dug my fingernails into the soil at either side of his face and squeezed his head between my hands, just enough to let him know how strong I was.

  "Get out of here, Reggie," I said. "Go find your friends in NOP Stick to protesting against new roads and bridges. You're in over your head here. Me and my friends in the Cirque are freaks, and freaks don't obey the same laws as other people. Understand?"

  "You're crazy," he whimpered.

  "Yes," I said. "But not as crazy as you'll be if you stay and interfere."

  I stood and draped the sheep over my shoulders.

  "Going to the police would be useless, anyway," I said. "By the time they reach the camp, this sheep will be long gone, bones and all."

  "You can do what you like, R.V. Stay or go. Report me to the police or keep your mouth shut. It's up to you. All I have left to say is this: To me and my kind, you're no different from this sheep." I gave it a shake. "We'd think no more of killing you than we would any dumb animal in the fields."

  "You're a monster!" R.V. yelled.

  "Yeah," I agreed. "But I'm only a baby monster. You should see what some of the others are like." I smiled nastily at him, hating myself for acting so mean, but knowing this was the way it had to be. "So long, Reggie Veggie," I said sarcastically, and walked away.

  I didn't look back. I didn't need to. I could hear the chattering of his terrified teeth practically all the way back to camp.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  This time I went straight to Mr. Tall and told him about R.V. He listened carefully, then said, "You handled him well."

  "I did what I had to," I replied. "I'm not proud of it. I don't like bullying or scaring people, but there was no other way."

  "Actually, you should have
killed him," Mr. Tall said. "That way he could do us no harm whatsoever."

  "I'm not a murderer," I told him.

  "I know." He sighed. "Nor am I. It's a pity one of the Little People wasn't with you. They'd have chopped his head off without a second's hesitation."

  "What do you think we should do?" I asked.

  "I don't think he can cause many problems," Mr. Tall said. "He'll probably be too scared to go to the police right away. Even if he does, there's no evidence against you. It would be an unwanted complication, but we've had plenty of dealings with officers of the law in the past. We could cope."

  "The health authorities worry me more. We could hit the road and lose them, but people in the health department tend to trail you around like hound dogs once they've got your scent.

  "We'll leave tomorrow," he decided. "There's a show scheduled for tonight, and I hate canceling on short notice. Dawn is the earliest any health inspector could be here, so we'll make sure we're gone before then."

  "You're not angry with me?" I asked.

  "No," he said. "This isn't the first time we've clashed with the public. You're not to blame."

  I helped Mr. Tall spread the word of our departure. Everybody took it in stride. Most seemed happy to be getting this much notice; a lot of times they had to move on with only an hour or two of warning.

  It was another busy day for me. As well as preparing for the show, I had to help people get ready for leaving. I offered to help Truska pack her stuff, but her tent was already bare when I got there. She only winked when I asked how she'd packed so quickly.

  When Mr. Crepsley awoke I told him about our plan to leave. He didn't seem surprised.

  "We have been here long enough," he said.

  I asked to be left out of that night's show, because I wasn't feeling very well.

  "I'll get to bed early," I said, "and get a good night's sleep."

  "It will not do any good," Mr. Crepsley warned. "There is only one thing that will make you feel better, and you know what it is."

  Night rolled on, and soon it was time for the show to begin. There was another big crowd. The roads were blocked with cars in both directions. Everybody in the Cirque was busy, either preparing to go onstage or getting people seated or selling stuff.

  The only two who seemed to have nothing to do were me and Evra, who wasn't performing because of his sick snake. He left her for a few minutes to watch the start of the show. We stood on one side of the stage as Mr. Tall got the ball rolling and introduced the wolf-man.

  We stuck around until the first break, then walked outside and studied the stars.

  "I'll miss this place when we go," Evra said. "I like the country. You can't see stars as well in the city."

  "I didn't know you were interested in astronomy," I said.

  "I'm not," he replied. "But I like looking up at the stars."

  I got dizzy after a while and had to sit down.

  "You're not feeling too good, are you?" Evra asked.

  I smiled weakly. "I've been better."

  "Still not drinking human blood?" I shook my head. He sat beside me. "You've never told me exactly why you won't drink it," he said. "It can't be so different from animal blood, can it?"

  "I don't know," I said. "And I don't want to find out." I paused. "I'm afraid that if I drink human blood, I'll be evil. Mr. Crepsley says vampires aren't evil, but I think they are. I think anyone who looks at humans as if they're animals must be evil."

  "But if it keeps you alive …" Evra said.

  "That's how it would start," I said. "I'd tell myself I was doing it to keep going. I'd swear never to drink more than I needed. But what if I couldn't stop myself? I'll need more as I grow older. What if I couldn't control my thirst? What if I killed someone?"

  "I don't think you could," Evra said. "You're not evil, Darren. I don't think a good person can do evil things. As long as you treat human blood like medicine, you'll be all right."

  "Maybe," I said, although I didn't believe it. "Anyway, I'm okay for now. I don't have to make a final decision for a couple more days."

  "Would you really let yourself die rather than drink?" Evra asked.

  "I don't know," I answered honestly.

  "I'd miss you if you died," Evra said sadly.

  "Well," I said uncomfortably, "maybe it won't come to that. Maybe there's some other way I can survive, a way that Mr. Crepsley doesn't want to tell me about until he has no other choice."

  Evra grunted. He knew as well as I did that there was no other way.

  "I'm going to check on my snake," he said. "Do you want to come and sit with us for a while?"

  "No," I said. "I'd better get some sleep. We have to get up early, and I'm really tired."

  We said good night. I didn't head straight for Mr. Crepsley's van but wandered through the campsite, thinking about my conversation with Evra, wondering what it would feel like to die. I'd "died" once before, and been buried, but that wasn't the same thing. If I died for real, I'd be dead for good. Life would be over, my body would decay, and then …

  I glanced up at the stars. Was that where I'd be heading? To the other side of the universe? Vampire Paradise?

  It was a weird time. When I was living at home I'd hardly ever thought about death; it was something that only happened to old people. Now here I was, almost face to face with it.

  If only somebody else could decide for me. I should be worrying about school and making the soccer team, not about whether I should drink human blood or let myself die. It wasn't fair. I was too young. I shouldn't have to —

  I saw a shadow passing the front of a nearby tent but didn't pay much attention. It wasn't until I heard a sharp snapping sound that I wondered who it might be. Nobody should have been out there. Everyone involved with the show was in the big tent. Was it somebody from the audience?

  I decided to investigate.

  I headed in the direction that the shadow had taken. It was a dark night, and after a few turns I couldn't figure out which way the person had gone. I was on the verge of abandoning the search when I heard another sharp snapping sound, closer this time.

  I looked around and knew immediately where the sounds must have come from: the wolf-man's cage!

  Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I ran as fast as I could to check it out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The grass was damp, so it bent beneath my feet and made no sound. When I reached the last van before the wolf-man's cage, I stopped and listened.

  There was a soft jangling sound, as though heavy chains were being lightly shaken.

  I stepped out from under cover.

  There were dim lights on either side of the wolf-man's cage, so I was able to see everything in perfect detail. He'd been wheeled back here after his act, like he was every night. There was a slab of meat in his cage, which normally he'd be feasting on. But not tonight. Tonight he was focused on something different.

  There was a big man in front of the wolf-man's cage. He had a huge pair of pliers with him and had cut some of the chains that were holding the door shut.

  The man was trying to unwrap the chains but wasn't doing very well. He swore softly to himself and lifted the pliers to cut through another link.

  "What are you doing?" I shouted.

  The man jumped with shock, dropped the pliers, and spun around.

  It was, as I had guessed, R.V.

  He looked guilty and scared at first, but when he saw I was alone he grew in confidence.

  "Stay back!" he warned.

  "What are you doing?" I demanded.

  "Freeing this poor, abused creature," he said. "I wouldn't keep the wildest of animals in a cage like this. It's inhumane. I'm letting him go. I called the police — they'll be out here in the morning — but I decided to do a little work of my own beforehand."

  "You can't do that!" I shrieked. "Are you crazy? That guy's savage. He'd kill everything within a five-mile radius if you let him out!"

  "So you say," R
.V. sneered. "I don't believe that. It's been my experience that animals react according to how they're treated. If you treat them like crazy monsters, they'll act that way. If, on the other hand, you treat them with respect, love, and humanity …"

  "You don't know what you're doing," I told him.

  "The wolf-man isn't like other animals. Walk away from there before you do any real damage. We can talk it over. We can —"

  "No!" he screamed. "I'm through talking!"

  He spun back to the chains and began struggling with them again. He reached into the cage and tugged the thickest chains through the bars. The wolf-man watched him silently.

  "R.V., stop!" I shouted, and raced over to stop him from opening the door. I grabbed his shoulders and tried pulling him away, but I wasn't strong enough. I punched him in the ribs a few times, but he only grunted and doubled his efforts.

  I grabbed for his hands, to pry them off the chains, but the bars were in the way.

  "Leave me alone!" R.V. yelled. He turned his head to speak to me directly. His eyes were wild. "You won't stop me!" he screamed. "You won't prevent me from doing my duty. I'll free this victim. I'll see justice done. I'll —"

  He stopped ranting all of a sudden. His face turned deathly white and his body shuddered, then went stiff.

  There was a crunching, munching, ripping sound, and when I looked inside the cage, I realized the wolf-man had made his move.

  He'd sprung across the cage while we were arguing, grabbed both of R.V.'s arms, jammed them in his mouth, and bitten them off below the elbows!

  R.V. fell away from the cage, shocked. He lifted his shortened arms and watched as blood pumped from the holes at the ends of his elbows.

  I tried grabbing his lower arms back from the mouth of the wolf-man — if I could retrieve them, they could be stuck back on — but he moved too quickly for me, leaped back out of reach, and began chewing. Within seconds the arms were a mess, and I knew they'd never be any good again.

  "Where are my hands?" R.V. cried.

  I switched my attention back to him. He was staring at the stumps that were his arms, a funny look on his face, not yet feeling the pain.

  "Where are my hands?" he cried again. "They're gone. They were there a minute ago. Where did all this blood come from? Why can I see the bone inside my skin?