TUNNELS OF BLOOD
THE SAGA OF DARREN SHAN
BOOK 3
TUNNELS OF BLOOD
THE SAGA OF DARREN SHAN
BOOK 3
Madam Octa’s on the Web… and so is Darren Shan!
For all things freaky, check out the official
Darren Shan website at www.darrenshan.com
For:
Declan – the original “mr happy”
OBEs (Order of the Bloody Entrails) to:
Jo “the jaguar” Williamson
Zoë “ze zombie” Clarke
The usual monsters:
Liam “Frankenstein” and Biddy “The Bride”
Gillie “rip yer guts out” Russell
the hungry HarperCollins cannibals
and
Emma & Chris – “who ya gonna call?”
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Other Books in the Series The Saga of Darren Shan
Copyright
About the Publisher
PROLOGUE
THE SMELL of blood is sickening. Hundreds of carcasses hang from silver hooks, stiff, shiny with frosty blood. I know they’re just animals – cows, pigs, sheep – but I keep thinking they’re human.
I take a careful step forward. Powerful overhead lights mean it’s bright as day. I have to tread easily. Hide behind the dead animals. Move slowly. The floor’s slippery with water and blood, which makes progress even trickier.
Ahead, I spot him… the vampire… Mr Crepsley. He’s moving as quietly as I am, eyes focused on the fat man a little way ahead.
The fat man. He’s why I’m here in this ice-cold abattoir. He’s the human Mr Crepsley intends to kill. He’s the man I have to save.
The fat man pauses and checks one of the hanging slabs of meat. His cheeks are chubby and red. He’s wearing clear plastic gloves. He pats the dead animal – the squeaky noise of the hook as the carcass swings sets my teeth on edge – then begins whistling. He starts to walk again. Mr Crepsley follows. So do I.
Evra is somewhere far behind. I left him outside. No point the two of us risking our lives.
I pick up speed, moving slowly closer. Neither knows I’m here. If everything works out as planned, they won’t know, not until Mr Crepsley makes his move. Not until I’m forced to act.
The fat man stops again. Bends to examine something. I take a quick step back, afraid he’ll spot me but then I see Mr Crepsley closing in. Damn! No time to hide. If this is the moment he’s chosen to attack, I have to get nearer.
I sprint forward several metres, risking being heard. Luckily Mr Crepsley is entirely focused on the fat man.
I’m only three or four metres behind the vampire now. I bring up the long butcher’s knife which I’ve been holding down by my side. My eyes are glued to Mr Crepsley. I won’t act until he does – I’ll give him every chance to prove my terrible suspicions wrong – but the second I see him tensing to spring…
I take a firmer grip on the knife. I’ve been practising my swipe all day. I know the exact point I want to hit. One quick cut across Mr Crepsley’s throat and that’ll be that. No more vampire. One more carcass to add to the pile.
Long seconds slip by. I don’t dare look to see what the fat man is studying. Is he never going to rise?
Then it happens. The fat man struggles to his feet. Mr Crepsley hisses. He gets ready to lunge. I position the knife and steady my nerves. The fat man’s on his feet now. He hears something. Looks up at the ceiling – wrong way, fool! – as Mr Crepsley leaps. As the vampire jumps, so do I, screeching loudly, slashing at him with the knife, determined to kill…
CHAPTER ONE
One month earlier…
MY NAME’S Darren Shan. I’m a half-vampire.
I used to be human, until I stole a vampire’s spider. After that, my life changed for ever. Mr Crepsley – the vampire – forced me to become his assistant, and I joined a circus full of weird performers, called the Cirque Du Freak.
Adapting was hard. Drinking blood was harder, and for a long time I wouldn’t do it. Eventually I did, to save the memories of a dying friend (vampires can store a person’s memories if they drain all their blood). I didn’t enjoy it – the following few weeks were horrible, and I was plagued by nightmares – but after that first blood-red drink there could be no going back. I accepted my role as a vampire’s assistant and learnt to make the best of it.
Over the course of the next year Mr Crepsley taught me how to hunt and drink without being caught; how to take just enough blood to survive; how to hide my vampire identity when mixing with others. And in time I put my human fears behind me and became a true creature of the night.
A couple of girls stood watching Cormac Limbs with serious expressions. He was stretching his arms and legs, rolling his neck around, loosening his muscles. Then, winking at the girls, he put the middle three fingers of his right hand between his teeth and bit them off.
The girls screamed and fled. Cormac chuckled and wriggled the new fingers which were growing out of his hand.
I laughed. You got used to stuff like that when you worked in the Cirque Du Freak. The travelling show was full of remarkable people, freaks of nature with wonderful and sometimes frightening powers.
Apart from Cormac Limbs, the performers included Rhamus Twobellies, capable of eating a full-grown elephant or a tank; Gertha Teeth, who could bite through steel; the Wolf Man, half-man half-wolf,