Killers of the Dawn. Darren Shan

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СКАЧАТЬ Lord’s minions — there were simply too many of them for us to cut a path through. But if they weren’t allowed to kill us…

      “Let’s not get carried away,” Harkat cautioned. “Even if they can’t kill us, they can … stall and subdue us. If they capture us and give us to … their Lord, it will be a simple matter for him to … drive a stake through our hearts.”

      “How come they didn’t kill you?” I asked Harkat. “You’re not one of the three hunters.”

      “Maybe they don’t know that,” Harkat said.

      Steve muttered something beneath his breath.

      “What was that?” Vancha shouted, prodding him sharply with his left foot.

      “I said we didn’t know before, but we do now!” Steve jeered. “At least,” he added sulkily, “I know.”

      “You did not know who the hunters were?” Mr Crepsley asked.

      Steve shook his head. “We knew there were three of you, and Mr Tiny told us that one would be a child, so we had Darren pegged straight off. But when five of you turned up – you three, Harkat and Debbie – we weren’t sure about the others. We guessed the hunters would be vampires, but we didn’t want to take unnecessary chances.”

      “Is that why you pretended to be our ally?” I asked. “You wanted to get close to us, to figure out who the hunters were?”

      “That was part of it,” Steve nodded, “although mostly I just wanted to toy with you. It was fun, getting so close that I could kill you whenever I wished, delaying the fatal blow until the time was right.”

      “He’s a fool,” Vancha snorted. “Anyone who wouldn’t strike his foe dead at the first opportunity is asking for trouble.”

      “Steve Leonard is many things,” Mr Crepsley said, “but not foolish.” He rubbed the long scar on the left side of his face, thinking deeply. “You thought this plan through most thoroughly, did you not?” he asked Steve.

      “I sure did,” Steve smirked.

      “You accounted for every possible twist and turn?”

      “As many as I could imagine.”

      Mr Crepsley stopped stroking his scar and his eyes narrowed. “Then you must have considered what would happen if we escaped.”

      Steve’s smile widened but he said nothing.

      “What was the back-up plan?” Mr Crepsley asked, his voice strained.

      “‘Back-up plan’?” Steve echoed innocently.

      “Do not play games with me!” Mr Crepsley hissed. “You must have discussed alternate plans with R.V. and Gannen Harst. Once you had revealed your location to us, you could not afford to sit back and wait. Time is precious now that we know where your Lord is hiding, and how those with him cannot take our lives.”

      Mr Crepsley stopped speaking and snapped to his feet. Vancha was only a second behind him. Their eyes locked and, as one, they exclaimed. “A trap!”

      “I knew he came too quietly up the tunnels,” Vancha growled, hurrying to the apartment door, opening it and checking the corridor outside. “Deserted.”

      “I will try the window,” Mr Crepsley said, starting towards it.

      “No point,” Vancha said. “Vampaneze wouldn’t attack in the open by day.”

      “No,” Mr Crepsley agreed, “but vampets would.” He reached the window and drew back the heavy blind which was blocking the harmful rays of the sun. His breath caught in his throat. “Charna’s guts!” he gasped.

      Vancha, Harkat and I rushed over to see what had upset him (Vancha grabbed hold of Steve on the way). What we saw caused us all to curse, except Steve, who laughed deliriously.

      The street outside was teeming with police cars, army vans, policemen and soldiers. They were lined up in front of the building, and stretched around the sides. Many carried rifles. In the building opposite, we glimpsed figures in the windows, also armed. As we watched, a helicopter buzzed down from overhead and hung in the air a couple of floors above us. There was a soldier in the helicopter with a rifle so big it could have been used to shoot elephants.

      But the marksman wasn’t interested in elephants. He was aiming at the same target as those in the building and on the ground — us!

      CHAPTER THREE

      AS A strong spotlight was trained on the window to dazzle us, we all turned to one side and let the blind fall back into place. Retreating, Vancha cursed at his loudest and vilest, while the rest of us glanced uneasily at one another, waiting for someone to propose a plan.

      “How did they sneak up without … us hearing?” Harkat asked.

      “We weren’t paying attention to what was happening outside,” I said.

      “Even so,” Harkat insisted, “we should have … picked up on the sirens.”

      “They didn’t use sirens,” Steve laughed. “They were warned to tread quietly. And, before you waste time checking, they’ve got the rear of the building and roof covered as well as the front.” As we stared at him questioningly, he said, “I wasn’t distracted. I heard them coming.”

      Vancha bellowed madly at Steve, then made a dive for him. Mr Crepsley stepped into his path to reason with him, but Vancha shoved him aside without regard and charged towards Steve, murder in his eyes.

      A voice from outside, amplified by a megaphone, stopped him.

      “You in there!” it bellowed. “Killers!”

      Vancha hesitated, fingers balled into fists, then pointed at Steve and snarled, “Later!” Spinning, he hurried to the window and nudged the blind aside a fraction. Light from the sun and spotlight flooded the room.

      Letting the blind fall back into place, Vancha roared, “Turn off the light!”

      “No chance!” the person with the megaphone laughed in reply.

      Vancha stood there a moment, thinking, then nodded at Mr Crepsley and Harkat. “Check the corridors above and below. Find out if they’re inside the building. Don’t clash with them — if that lot outside start firing, they’ll cut us to ribbons.”

      Mr Crepsley and Harkat obeyed without question.

      “Bring that sorry excuse for a dog over here,” Vancha said to me, and I dragged Steve to the window. Vancha wrapped a hand around Steve’s throat and growled in his ear, “Why are they here?”

      “They think you’re the killers,” Steve chuckled. “The ones who killed all those humans.”

      “You son of a mongrel!” Vancha snarled.

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