Cirque Du Freak The Vampire's Assistant (15 page)

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?

"Where are my hands ?" He screamed this last question at the top of his lungs.

"You have to come with me," I said frantically. "We have to take care of your arms before you bleed to death."

"Stay away from me!" R.V. yelled. He tried raising a hand to shove me back, then remembered he didn't have hands anymore.

"You're responsible for this!" he shouted. "You did this to me!"

"No, R.V., it was the wolf-man," I said, but he wasn't listening.

"This is your fault," he insisted. "You took my hands. You're an evil little monster, and you stole my hands. My hands! My hands!"

He began screaming again. I reached for him, but this time he brushed me aside, turned, and ran.

He tore screaming through the camp, his blood-drenched half-arms raised high above his head, yelling as loudly as he could, until he vanished into the night.

"My hands! My hands! My hands!"

I wanted to run after him but was afraid he might attack me. I ran off to find Mr. Crepsley and Mr. Tall - they'd know what to do - but was stopped dead in my tracks by a worrying growl behind me.

I turned slowly. The wolf-man was at the door of the cage, which was swinging wide open! He'd somehow removed the last of the chains and freed himself.

I remained perfectly still as he stood and grinned viciously, his long, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light.

He looked to the left and to the right, stretched out his hands, and grabbed the bars on either side.

Then he crouched down low and tensed his legs.

He sprang, propelling himself toward me.

I shut my eyes and waited for the end to come.

I heard and felt him land about a foot in front of me. I began to say my final prayers.

But then I heard him flying overhead and realized he'd bounced over me. For a couple of

terrifying seconds I waited for his teeth to bite through the back of my neck and gnaw my head off.

But they didn't.

Confused, I turned, blinking. He was racing away from me! I saw a figure ahead of him, running quickly between the trailers, and realized he was after somebody else. He'd passed me up for a tastier meal!

I took several stumbling steps after the wolf-man. I was smiling and silently thanking the gods. I couldn't believe how close I'd just come to death. When he'd leaped through the air, I was sure -

My feet struck something, and I stopped.

I looked down and saw a bag. The person the wolf-man was chasing must have dropped it, and for the first time I wondered who it was that the wild wolf-man was after.

I picked up the bag. It was the kind you carry over one shoulder. It was full of clothes, which I could feel through the cover. A small jar fell out as I turned the bag around. Retrieving it, I opened the lid and caught the bitter smell of... pickled onions!

My heart almost stopped. I began searching furiously for a name tag, praying the pickled onions didn't mean what I feared.

My prayers went unanswered.

The handwriting, when I found it, was neat but unjoined. The writing of a child.

"This bag is the property of Sam Grest," it said, and his address was just beneath. "Hands off!!" it warned at the end, which was pretty ironic given what had happened a minute or so earlier to R.V.

But I didn't have time to laugh at my twisted, dark joke.

Sam! For some reason he snuck out here tonight - probably to stow away with the Cirque - and must have seen and followed me. It was Sam the wolf-man's beady eyes had spotted, standing behind me. It was Sam running for his life through the camp.

The wolf-man was after Sam!

I shouldn't have chased them on my own. I should have gone for help. It was crazy, rushing off into the darkness by myself.

But he was after Sam. Sam, who wanted to join the Cirque. Sam, who asked to be my blood

brother. Harmless, friendly, long-winded Sam. The boy who'd saved my life.

I didn't think about my own safety. Sam was in trouble, and there wasn't time to seek anyone else's help. It might be the death of me, but I had to go after them, to try to save Sam. I owed him.

I got out of the camp quickly. The clouds had parted overhead and I spotted the wolf-man

disappearing into the trees. I hurried after him, running as fast as I could.

I heard the wolf-man howl a while later, which was a good sign. It meant he was still chasing Sam. If he'd caught him, he'd be too busy eating to howl.

I wondered why he hadn't caught him yet. He should have. Although I'd never seen him running in the open, I was sure he must be fast. Maybe he was playing with Sam, toying with him before he moved in for the kill.

Their footprints were clear in the damp night earth, but I would have been able to follow from their sounds anyway. It's hard to run silently through a forest, especially at night.

We ran in that way for a few minutes, Sam and the wolf-man way in front and out of sight, me trailing behind. My legs were beginning to get really tired, but I forced myself on.

I thought about what I'd do when I caught up. There was no way I could beat the wolf-man in a fair fight. I could smash him over the head with a stick or something, but probably not. He was strong and fast, and had the taste for human blood. He'd be pretty much unstoppable.

The most I could hope to do was throw myself in his path and take Sam's place. If I offered myself instead of Sam, maybe he'd take me and Sam could escape.

I wouldn't mind dying for Sam. I'd given up my humanity for one friend; it wasn't asking so much more to give up my life for another.

Besides, this way, if I died, it would be for a good cause. I wouldn't have to worry anymore about drinking human blood or starving to death. I could go down fighting.

After a few more minutes, I ran into a clearing and realized where Sam had led us: the old deserted railroad station.

It showed he was still thinking clearly. This was the best place to come, with plenty of hiding spots and lots of stuff - chunks of metal and glass - to use in a fight. Maybe neither of us would have to die. Maybe there was a chance we could win this battle.

I saw the wolf-man pause in the middle of the station yard and sniff the air. He howled again, a loud spine-shivering howl, then sprinted toward one of the rusty train cars.

I ran around the back of the car, moving as quietly as I could. I listened for sounds when I got there but couldn't hear anything. I lifted myself up and looked in one of the windows: nothing.

I lowered myself and slid along to the third window over. I couldn't see anything when I looked inside again.

I was lifting myself to peek in the next window, when I suddenly saw a metal bar moving toward my face at high speed.

I twisted to my side just in time to avoid it. It whistled by my face, scratching me but not doing any serious damage.

"Sam, stop, it's me !" I hissed, dropping to the ground. There was silence for a moment, then Sam's face appeared in the round window.

"Darren?" he whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"I followed you," I said.

"I thought you were the wolf-man. I was trying to kill you."

"You practically did."

"I'm sorry."

"For God's sake, Sam, don't waste time apologizing," I snapped. "We're in big trouble. We've got to think. Get out here quick."

He backed away from the window. There were soft shuffling sounds, then he appeared outside the car door. He looked to make sure the wolf-man wasn't around, jumped down, and crept over to me.

"Where is he?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," I whispered. "He's around somewhere, though. I saw him coming in this direction."

"Maybe he found something else to attack." Sam whispered back hopefully. "A sheep or a cow."

"I wouldn't bet on it," I said. "He wouldn't have run all this way just to abandon the chase at the very end."

We huddled close together, Sam covering the right with his eyes, me the left. I could feel his body trembling, and I'm sure he could feel mine shaking, too.

"What are we going to do?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," I whispered. "Any ideas?"

"A couple," he said. "We could lead him into the guard's house. He might fall through the rotten floorboards. We could trap him down there."

"Maybe," I said. "But what if we fall through, too? We'd be trapped. He could jump down and eat us whenever he liked."

"How about the rafters?" Sam asked. "We could climb out into the middle of a rafter and hang on, back to back. We could take sticks with us and beat him off if he attacked. There'd only be one way for him to come at us up there."

"And somebody's got to arrive from the Cirque Du Freak sooner or later," I whispered, thinking it over. "But what if he decides to snap the rafter at one end?"

"They're set pretty deeply into brick," Sam said. "I don't think he could break them with his bare hands."

"Would a rafter hold the weight of three of us?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," Sam admitted. "But at least if we fell from that height it'd be over quickly. Who knows, we might get lucky and fall on the wolf-man. He could break our fall and get killed in the process."

I laughed weakly. "You watch too many cartoons. But that's a good idea. Better than any I can think of."

"How long do you think it'll be before the people from the Cirque get here?" Sam whispered.

"Depends on when they realize what's happening," I said. "If we're lucky, they'll have heard him howling and might be here in a couple of minutes. Otherwise we might have to wait until the end of the show, which could be another hour, maybe longer."

"Do you have a weapon?" Sam asked.

"No," I said. "I didn't have time to pick anything up."

He handed me a short iron bar. "Here," he said. "I had this for backup. It's not very good, but it's better than nothing."

"Any sign of the wolf-man?" I asked.

"No," he said. "Not yet."

"We'd better get going before he arrives," I whispered, then stopped. "How are we going to go to the guard's house? It's a far hike, and the wolf-man could be hiding anywhere along the way."

"We'll have to run for it and hope for the best," Sam said.

"Should we split up?" I asked.

"No," he said. "I think we're better off together."

"Okay. Are you ready to start?"

"Gimme a few seconds," he said.

I turned and watched him breathing. His face was white, and his clothes were ripped and dirty from running through the woods, but he looked ready to fight. He was a tough little character.

"Why did you come back tonight, Sam?" I whispered.

"To join the Cirque Du Freak," he answered.

"Even after everything I told you about me?"

"I decided to risk it," he said. "I mean, you're my friend. We have to stick by our friends, right?

Your story made me want to join more, once I'd recovered from being scared. Maybe I could have helped you. I've read books about personality disorders. Maybe I could have cured you."

I couldn't help smiling in the middle of this horrifying moment we were in. "You're a moron, Sam Grest," I whispered.

"I know." He smiled. "So are you. That's why we make a good team."

"If we get out of this," I told him, "feel free to join. And you don't have to worry about me eating you. That was just a story to frighten you off."

"Really?" he asked.

"Really," I said.

"Phew." He wiped his brow. "I can rest easy now."

"You can if the wolf-man doesn't get you," I said with a grin.

"Ready yet?"

"I'm ready." He squeezed his palms and prepared to run. "On the count of three," he whispered.

"Okay," I replied.

"One," he began.

We faced in the direction of the guard's house.

"Two."

We got in position to sprint.

"Thr-"

Before he could finish, a pair of hairy hands darted out from underneath the car, where - I realized too late - the wolf-man was hiding. The fingers wrapped around Sam's lower legs, grabbed him by the ankles, and dragged him down to the ground.

Sam started to scream as soon as the hands tightened on his ankles. The fall knocked the breath out of him, silencing him momentarily, but after a second or two he was screaming again.

I scrambled to my knees, grabbed Sam's arms, and pulled as hard as I could.

I could see the wolf-man underneath the car, spread out on his hairy belly and grinning wildly.

Drool was dripping from his jaws.

I pulled with all my might, and Sam slid toward me. But the wolf-man came with him, wriggling out from under the car, not loosening his grip.

I stopped pulling and let go of Sam. I grabbed the iron bar that he'd dropped, jumped to my feet, and began pounding the outstretched arms of the wolf-man, who howled angrily.

The wolf-man released one of his hairy paws and swatted at me. I ducked out of the way and struck at the hand still holding Sam. The wolf-man yelped with pain and his fingers came free.

"Run!" I screamed to Sam as I yanked him to his feet.

We sprinted toward the guard's house, side by side. I could hear the wolf-man scrambling out from beneath the car. He'd been playing with us before, but now he was furious. I knew he'd come at us with everything he had. The games were over. There was no way we'd make it to the guard's house. He'd have us before we were halfway across the yard.

"Keep... running," I gasped to Sam, then stopped momentarily and looked back to meet the charge of the oncoming wolf-man.

My actions took him by surprise, and he ran into me. His body was hairy and sweaty and heavy.

The collision sent both of us flying to the ground. Our arms and legs were all tangled up, but I quickly freed myself and whacked him with the iron bar.