Vampire Destiny Trilogy (The Saga of Darren Shan) by Darren Shan

Author:Darren Shan
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi
Tags: Action & Adventure, Thrillers & Suspense, Juvenile Fiction, Paranormal, Fantasy & Magic, General, Occult & Supernatural, Horror
ISBN: 9780007485093
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2012-08-02T10:49:52.518000+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

I CLEARED the housing estate a few minutes later. In the distance police sirens screamed like banshees in the night. The stadium would be their first priority, but once word reached them of the scuffle on the housing estate, units would be sent to investigate.

As I stood bent over, panting for breath, I studied the path I’d taken and saw little puddles of blood marking my course—a clear trail for anyone who followed. If I was to progress any further undetected, I’d have to do something about my wound.

I examined the hole. There was a tiny bit of shaft sticking out of it, attached to the arrow head. I took hold of the light piece of wood, closed my eyes, bit down hard, and pulled.

“Charna’s guts!”

I fell back, shivering, fingers twitching, mouth opening and shutting rapidly. For maybe a minute, I knew only pain. The houses around me could have collapsed and I wouldn’t have noticed.

Gradually the pain abated and I was able to study the wound again. I hadn’t managed to pull the head out, but I’d drawn it closer towards the hole, plugging it up. Blood still oozed out but it wasn’t flowing steadily like it had been. That would have to do. Tearing a long strip off my shirt, I balled it up and pressed it over the wound. After a few deep breaths, I got to my feet. My legs were shaking like a newborn lamb’s, but they held. I made sure I wasn’t dripping blood, then resumed my sluggish flight.

The next ten or fifteen minutes passed in a slow, agonized blur. I had enough sense left to keep moving, but I wasn’t able to take note of street names or plot a course back to the Cirque Du Freak. All I knew was that I couldn’t stop.

I kept to the sides of streets and alleys, so I could grab a fence for support or lean against a wall to rest. I didn’t pass many people. Those I did pass ignored me. That surprised me, even in my dazed state, until I realized how I must look. A teenager, reeling along the path, head bowed, body crooked over, moaning softly—they thought I was drunk!

Eventually I had to stop. I was at the end of my rope. If I didn’t sit down and rest, I’d drop in the middle of the street. Luckily I was close to a dark alley. I fell into it and crawled away from the streetlights, deep into welcome shadows, I stopped beside a large black garbage bin, sat up against the wall by which it was set, and dragged my legs in.

“Just … a short … rest,” I wheezed, laying my head on my knees, wincing at the pain in my shoulder. “A few … minutes … and then I can…”

I got no further. My eyelids fluttered shut and I flaked out, at the mercy of any who happened to chance upon me.

My eyes opened. It was later, darker, colder. I felt like I was encased in a block of ice.

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