Disclaimer: I don't own Darren Shan. You know why? Because I hate spiders. If I see one, I kill it just to make sure it can't come near me ever again.
A/N: Did a lot of cutting and paste-ing for this chapter. Just so it seems clearer. Spoiler alert, for those of you haven't read Book Eight (Allies of The Night) of the Darren Shan Saga.
Chapter 5: Exposure
Hooky tore across the roofs of Mr Crepsley childhood city. We chased him intently. His speed had slowed considerably due to Harkat having injured him with an arrow when he came to prey on Richard and his family.
The humans and Harkat followed us by ground, while us vampires tailed him closely on the roofs.
He slipped off the roofs, and we chased him to a manhole, where he disappeared underground. We followed, Vancha and Steve leading us.
At one point, Steve reached behind and held my hand. I was surprised by the gesture, but it made me happy at the same time. The others pretended not to notice.
We kept going deeper and deeper into the tunnels, and we were afraid that Hooky might make a break for freedom by flitting. But instead, he went further down into the never ending maze of tunnels.
I was surprised. I'd no idea the tunnels ran this deep, and couldn't imagine what they were used for - they were modern in design, and showed no signs of having been used. As I was pondering this, Hooky stopped in some cave-type room up ahead.
We were wary of a trap at first, but decided to go after him, even Debbie. I admired her bravery, her amazing will to fight for her fellow humans, despite the obvious fear for her life.
"For Tara," she said, and her trembling ceased.
"Steve and Debbie will keep to the back," Vancha said, loosening a few of his shurikens. "Larten and I will lead. Darren and Harkat in the middle." Everybody nodded obediently.
Steve let go of my hand, much to my disappointment. My hand felt cold and empty as soon as his fingers left it. It must have shown on my face, if Steve's smirk was any indication. I quickly arranged my features into a mask of apathy, but it was too late. I glared at him, but even as I turned around, the smirk remained on his face.
He slapped my behind. I yelped in surprise, attracting everyone's attention. He continued to grin infuriatingly. I elbowed him in the ribs. He gasped in pain.
"You two! Enough playing around!" Vancha snapped.
"Sorry, Vancha," Steve and I intoned simultaneously. Vancha glared at us, Mr Crepsley sighed disgustedly.
Steve and I glanced at each other and nearly burst out laughing. I felt a deep sense of Deja Vu. It felt like we were twelve year olds again. Annoying the hell out of teachers and then trying to talk our way through their accusations.
Then we sobered, remembering where we were and what we were going to do.
Vancha advanced, the rest of us following closely, and we entered a large, domed room. Hooky stood in the middle, alone yet confident.
"The game's over," Vancha said.
"Think so?" Hooky snorted and looked up at us with his one red eye and one blue-green. "
I think it's only beginning," The vampaneze clashed his hooks together. Once. Twice. Three times.
And someone dropped from the ceiling. Someone with a purple face and blood-red eyes.
Then someone else dropped. Another. More.
I counted nine vampaneze and fourteen vampets, not including Hooky. We'd walked into a trap. And man, we would need all the luck of the vampires to get out of this one.
It was just that I was thinking this that four more vampaneze emerged from the huge door behind Hooky. That made it twenty-eight to six. We hadn't a hope.
That is, until Vancha gave a 'shame on you' talk to the vampaneze regarding their use of vampets and guns. The vampets laid down their weapons by order of the vampaneze. I tried not to grin. Vancha winked at us.
Then he faced the vampaneze again. "Before we start," he said, "I'd like to know what manner of creature this thing with the hooks is."
"I'm a vampaneze!" Hooky replied indignantly.
"Really?" Vancha smirked. "I've never seen one with mismatched eyes before."
Hooky's eyes twitched exploratively. "Damn!" he shouted. "It must have slipped out when I fell."
"What slipped out?" Vancha asked.
"A contact lens," I answered softly. "He's wearing red contact lenses."
"No I'm not!" Hooky yelled. "That's a lie! Tell them, Bargen. My eyes are as red as yours and my skin's as purple."
The vampaneze to Hooky's left shuffled his feet with embarrassment. "He
is a vampaneze," he said, "but he's only been recently blooded. He wanted to look like the rest of us, so he wears contacts and …"
Bargen coughed into a fist. "He paints his face and body purple."
"Traitor!" Hooky howled. He was so pathetic that I felt the need to cross the room and pat him on the back comfortingly. I didn't of course. Self-preservation same first.
Bargen looked up at him, disgusted, then spat into the dust of the floor as Vancha had moments before.
"What has the world come to when the vampaneze blood maniacs like this and recruit humans to fight for them?"
Vancha asked quietly and there was no mockery in his voice - it was a genuine, puzzled query.
"Times change," Bargen answered. "We don't like the changes, but we accept them. Our Lord has said it must be so."
"This is what the great Lord of the Vampaneze has brought to his people?" Vancha barked. "Human thugs and crazy, hook-handed monsters?"
"I'm not crazy!" Hooky shouted. "Except crazy with rage!" He pointed at me and snarled. "And it's all
her fault."
Vancha turned and stared at me, as did everybody else in the room.
"Darren?"Mr Crepsley asked quietly.
"I don't know what he's talking about," I said, frowning. I stared at the handless creature before me, more confused than ever.
"Liar!" Hooky laughed and started dancing. "Liar, liar, pants on fire!"
"Do you know this
creature?" Mr Crepsley enquired.
"No," I insisted. "The first time I saw him was when he attacked me in the alley. I never-"
"Lies!" Hooky screamed, then stopped dancing and glared at me. "Pretend all you like, man, but you know who I am. And you know what you did to drive me to this." He held up his arms, so the hooks glinted in the light of the candles.
"Honestly," I swore, "I haven't a clue what you're on about."
"No?" he sneered. "It's easy to lie to a mask. Let's see
if you can stick to your lie when faced with-" he removed the balaclava with one quick sweep of his left hooks, revealing his face "-
this!"
It was a round, heavy, bearded face, smeared with purple paint. For a few seconds I couldn't place it. Then, putting it together with the missing hands, and the familiarity of the voice that I'd previously noted, I nailed him. "
Reggie Veggie?" I gasped.
"Don't call me that!" he shrieked. "It's
R.V . - and it stands for Righteous Vampaneze!"
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. R.V. was a man I'd run into not long after joining the Cirque Du Freak, an eco-warrior who'd devoted his life to the protection of the countryside. We'd been friends until he found me killing animals to feed the Little People. He set out to free the Wolf Man - he thought we were mistreating him - but the savage beast bit his arms off. The last time I'd seen him, he'd been fleeing into the night, screaming loudly, "My hands! My hands!"
Now he was here. With the vampaneze. And I began to understand why I'd been set up and who was behind it. "
You sent those forms to Mahler's!" I accused him.
He grinned slyly, then shook his head. "With hands like these?" He waved the hooks at me. "They're good for chopping and slicing and gutting, but not for writing. I played my part to get you down here, but it was one with a lot more cunning than me who dreamt the plan up."
"I don't understand," Vancha interrupted. "Who is this lunatic?"
"It's a long story," I said. "I'll tell you later."
"Optimistic to the last," Vancha chuckled.
I stepped closer to R.V., ignoring the threat of the vampaneze and vampets, until I was only a meter or so away. I studied his face silently. He fidgeted but didn't back off. "What happened to you?" I asked, appalled. "You loved life. You were gentle and kind. You were a vegetarian!"
"Not any more," R.V. chuckled. "I eat plenty of meat now and I like it
bloody !" His smile faded. "
You happened to me, you and your band of freaks. You ruined my life, man. I wandered the world, alone, frightened, defenceless, until the vampaneze took me in. They gave me strength. They equipped me with new hands. In turn, I helped give them
you ."
I shook my head sadly. "You're wrong. They haven't made you strong. They've turned you into an abomination."
His face darkened. "Take that back! Take that back or I'll-"
"Before this goes any further," Vancha interrupted dryly, "could I ask one more question? It's my final one." R.V. stared at him in silence. "If
you didn't set us up, who did?" R.V. said nothing. Nor did the other vampaneze. "Come on!" Vancha shouted. "Don't be shy. Who's the clever boy?"
The silence held a few moments more. Then, from behind us, somebody said in a soft, wicked voice, "
I am."
I whirled around to see who'd spoken. So did Vancha, Harkat and Mr Crepsley. But Debbie didn't whirl, because she was standing still, a knife pressed to the soft flesh of her throat. And Steve Leopard didn't whirl either, because he was standing beside her -
holding the knife!
We gaped wordlessly at the pair. I blinked twice, slowly, thinking maybe that would restore sanity to the world. But it didn't. Steve was still there, holding his knife on Debbie, grinning darkly.
"Steve. What are you doing?" I asked, completely in denial. He turned to me, and smirked that same smirk that always irritated me.
"Take off your gloves," Mr Crepsley said, his voice strained. "Take them off and show us your hands."
Steve smiled knowingly, then put the fingertips of his left hand - which was wrapped around Debbie's throat - to his mouth, gripped the ends of the glove with his teeth, and pulled his hand free. The first thing my eyes went to was the cross carved into the flesh of his palm, the cross he'd made the night he vowed to track me down and kill me. Then my eyes slid from his palm to the end of his fingers, and I understood why Mr Crepsley had asked him to remove the glove.
There were five small scars running along his fingertips - the sign that he was a creature of the night. But Steve hadn't been blooded by a vampire. He'd been blooded by one of the others.
He was a half-vampaneze!
Okay, I can't lie. That
hurt. It hurt more than losing my virginity. It hurt more than having my thumb sliced off. My stomach dropped below sea level, and there was this sharp pain in my chest that throbbed. And my throat closed up, making it difficult to breathe.
I forgot about the vampaneze and vampets and focused entirely on Steve. My best friend. The boy whose life I'd saved. The man I'd welcomed back with open arms. I'd vouched for him. Trusted him. Fell in love with him. Gave him my first kiss, my first time
doing it, my first, well, everything. Included him in our plans. Even made future plans with him.
And all along he'd been plotting against us.
I felt like I was going to start hyperventilating, then I focused on Debbie and tried to control myself. All the while, Steve watched my expressions of hurt with glee.
I couldn't register the rest of the conversation that was going on. I hazily remember hearing Mr Crepsley asking something about how he knew, how he did it. But I just couldn't concentrate.
Then the talking ceased. Behind us, the vampaneze and vampets advanced. Vancha, Mr Crepsley and Harkat spun to face their challenge. I didn't. I couldn't tear my eyes away from Steve and Debbie. She was weeping, but holding herself steady, looking appealingly in my direction.
"
Why?" I croaked.
"Why what?" Steve replied.
"Why do you hate us? We did nothing to hurt you."
"
He said I was evil!" Steve howled, nodding at Mr Crepsley, who didn't turn to remonstrate with him. "And
you chose his side over mine. You set that spider on me and tried to kill me."
"No! I saved you. I gave up everything so that you could live."
"Nonsense," he snorted. "I know what really happened. You plotted with him against me, so you could take my rightful place among the vampires. You were jealous of me."
"Oh
God," I moaned, resisting the urge to slap my forehead in frustration. "Why do you never listen? Why can't you understand?"
"I understand perfectly," he responded.
"No, you don't!" I snapped. "If you understood, then you would know that this is absolutely crazy! You don't know what-"
"Save it!" Steve interrupted. "I'm not interested. Besides, here comes the guest of honour - a man I'm sure you're all just
dying to meet."
I didn't want to turn away from Steve, but I had to see what he was talking about. Looking over my shoulder, I saw two vague shapes behind the massed vampaneze and vampets. Vancha, Mr Crepsley and Harkat were ignoring Steve's jibes and the pair at the back, concentrating instead on the foes directly in front of them, warding off their early testing jabs. Then the vampaneze parted slightly and I had a clear view of the two behind them.
"Vancha!" I shouted.
"What?" he snapped.
"At the rear - it's …" I licked my lips. The taller of the pair had spotted me and was gazing at me with a neutral, inquisitive expression. The other was dressed in dark green robes, his face covered by a hood.
"Who?" Vancha shouted, knocking aside a vampets blade with his bare hands.
"It's your brother, Gannen Harst," I said quietly and Vancha stopped fighting. So did Mr Crepsley and Harkat. And so, puzzled, did the vampaneze.
Vancha stood to his fullest height and stared over the heads of those in front of him. Gannen Harst's eyes left mine and locked on Vancha's. The brothers stared at each other. Then Vancha's gaze switched to the person in the robes and hood - the Lord of the Vampaneze!
Without warning, Vancha went after the Lord of the Vampaneze, Mr Crepsley and Harkat hot on his heels. But I didn't follow them. I couldn't. Instead, swivelling away from the battle, praying that Steve had been distracted by the sudden outbreak, I sent a knife flying towards him. It wasn't intended to hit - I couldn't risk striking Debbie - just to make him duck.
It worked. Startled by the swiftness of my move, Steve jerked his head behind Debbie's for protection. His left arm loosened around her throat, and his right hand - holding the knife - dropped a fraction. As I raced forward, I knew the momentary swing of fortune wasn't enough - he'd still have time to recover and kill Debbie before I reached him. But then Debbie, acting like a trained warrior, dug her left elbow sharply back into Steve's ribs, and broke free of his hold, throwing herself to the floor.
Before Steve could dive after her, I was on him. I grabbed him around the waist and propelled him backwards into the wall. He connected harshly and cried out. Stepping away from him, I sent my right fist smashing into the side of his face. The force of the blow knocked him down. It also nearly broke a couple of small bones in my fingers, but that didn't bother me. Falling upon him, I grabbed his ears, pulled his head up, then smashed it down on the hard concrete floor. He grunted and the lights went out in his eyes. He was dazed and defenceless - mine for the taking.
My hand went for the hilt of my sword. Then I saw Steve's own knife lying close beside his head, and decided it would be more fitting to kill him with that. Picking it up, I positioned it above his dark, monstrous heart and prodded through the material of his shirt to make sure he wasn't protected by a breastplate or some other such armour. Then I raised the knife high above my head and brought it down slowly, determined to strike the mark and put an end to the life of my soul mate.
But I couldn't do it. Of course not. The damage had been done. It was probably all in his plans as well, for me to fall in love with him to the point that losing him would hurt me too. Disgusted, I pulled the small cross off from my neck, breaking the clasp and flung it onto the floor. The metal made a distinctive clanging noise as it hit the floor.
I turned around, looking for Debbie, and stopped when I saw R.V. holding her as Steve had, the hooks of his golden right hand pressed up into the flesh of her jaw and drawing blood from it.
"R.V." I said through gritted teeth. "Let her go."
"Or what, man?" he taunted me. I reached down and grabbed the front of Steve's shirt.
"Or he dies," I replied.
He laughed, and keeping Debbie in front of him, he edged towards the exit at the opposite side of the room, skirting the vampaneze.
"What are you doing?" I shouted, moving forward.
"Stay back!" he shouted at me, his hooks pressing deeper into her neck. I stopped.
"Let her go," I said quietly, desperately.
"No," he snarled.
"Please," I gasped out. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about what happened to you, and that I didn't go after you to help you. But please. Let her go."
"No," he replied. "I'm taking her. If you try to stop me, I'll kill her."
"I'll kill Steve if you do."
He laughed. "I don't care for Steve as much as you care for precious little Debbie. In fact, I don't care for Steve as much as
you do," I winced at his words, pained by just how true they were. "But I'll sacrifice my friend if you'll sacrifice yours. How about it, Shan?"
I studied Debbie's round, terrified eyes, then took a step back, clearing the way for R.V. to pass. "Wise move," he grunted, easing past, not turning his back on me.
"If you harm her…" I sobbed.
"I won't," he said. "Not for the time being. I want to see you squirm before I do. But if you kill Steve or come after me…" His cold, mismatched eyes told me what would happen. Laughing, the hook-handed monster slipped past the vampaneze, then past Gannen Harst and his Lord, vanishing into the gloomy darkness of the tunnel beyond, taking Debbie with him, leaving me and the others to the mercy of the vampaneze.
A/N: I know, I know, this chapter was more of the book than actual writing, but it seemed better that way. I didn't want to cut this part short because it was really important.