Read Online Blood Beast by Darren Shan - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Darren Shan
Tags: JUV001000
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party. . . lack of sleep last night. . . walking and digging this afternoon. My eyelids refuse to stay open. Even coffee — which I hardly ever drink — doesn’t work.
I undress and slip into a T-shirt and boxers. Slide beneath the covers. Lying there, I think that maybe I should get a rope, tie it round my ankles and the bed frame, maybe tie up one of my hands too. That should hold me in case I change during the night. A good plan, but it comes too late. Even as I’m gearing myself up to get out of bed and fetch a rope, my eyelids slam down and I’m out for the count.
Harsh breathing. Thumping sounds. Cold night air.
I come to my senses slowly, the same as last night. I see a pair of hands lifting a large rock out of the ground. They throw it overhead casually as if it were a pebble. They stoop, start clearing more dirt away. . . then stop as I realize they’re
my
hands. I exert my will and look around.
I’m standing in a hole, dressed only in my T-shirt and boxers. Bare feet. Dirtencrusted fingers. It takes me a few seconds to realize I’m in the hole where we were digging earlier. The reason I didn’t recognize it instantly — it’s about four times deeper than when we left it.
I look up. I’m about six feet below ground level, surrounded by rock. In a sudden panic, afraid the rocks are going to grind together and crush me, I grab a handhold and haul myself up. A couple of quick thrusts later, I’m standing by the edge of the hole, shivering from cold and fear, looking around with wonder.
There are rocks and dirt everywhere. I don’t know how long I was down there, but I must have been digging like a madman. The weird thing is, I don’t feel the least bit tired. My muscles aren’t aching. Apart from some scared gasping, my breath comes normally and my heart beats as regularly as if I’d been out for a gentle stroll.
I walk over to one of the biggest stones. Study it silently, warily. I bend, grab it by the sides, give an exploratory lift. I can shift it a few inches and that’s it, I have to drop it. It weighs a freaking ton. Under any normal circumstances I doubt I could lift it higher than knee level, not without throwing my back out completely. Yet I must have. And not only picked it up, but lobbed it out of the hole too.
Back to the rim of the mini abyss. Staring down into darkness. What brought me here? I’d like to think I was just sleepwalking, that I came here because I’d been thinking about the hole all evening. But there’s more to it than that. My senses are on high alert, animal sharp (
wolf
sharp), and I don’t think it’s any accident that I wound up here, digging as if my life depended on it.
As much as I don’t want to, I sit, turn, and lower myself into the hole. When I’m at the bottom, I allow a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, then take a really good look. The hole isn’t any wider than it was earlier. The rocks on the sides run down smoothly, like a mine shaft. The angle that we were following has continued, so although it’s a steep slope, it’s easy to climb up and down.
I bend and touch the next rock in line for removal. It’s jammed firmly in the earth. I tug hard and it barely moves. Yet I’m sure, if I’d tried a few minutes ago, while asleep, I could have ripped it out and. . .
Whispers.
I frown and cock my head. The sound has been there for a while, maybe since I regained my senses, but I thought it was the wind in the trees. Now that I focus, I realize it’s not coming from the trees. It seems to be coming from the rocks.
A bolt of excitement cuts through my confusion and apprehension. Maybe I’m close to a cave and the noise is the wind whistling between earth and rock. I flash on an image of Lord Sheftree’s treasure and the glory of being the first to discover it. With renewed enthusiasm I grasp the rock again and pull as hard as I can. I might not be able to toss it out of the hole, but if I can budge it slightly, maybe I can. . .
A flicker
I undress and slip into a T-shirt and boxers. Slide beneath the covers. Lying there, I think that maybe I should get a rope, tie it round my ankles and the bed frame, maybe tie up one of my hands too. That should hold me in case I change during the night. A good plan, but it comes too late. Even as I’m gearing myself up to get out of bed and fetch a rope, my eyelids slam down and I’m out for the count.
Harsh breathing. Thumping sounds. Cold night air.
I come to my senses slowly, the same as last night. I see a pair of hands lifting a large rock out of the ground. They throw it overhead casually as if it were a pebble. They stoop, start clearing more dirt away. . . then stop as I realize they’re
my
hands. I exert my will and look around.
I’m standing in a hole, dressed only in my T-shirt and boxers. Bare feet. Dirtencrusted fingers. It takes me a few seconds to realize I’m in the hole where we were digging earlier. The reason I didn’t recognize it instantly — it’s about four times deeper than when we left it.
I look up. I’m about six feet below ground level, surrounded by rock. In a sudden panic, afraid the rocks are going to grind together and crush me, I grab a handhold and haul myself up. A couple of quick thrusts later, I’m standing by the edge of the hole, shivering from cold and fear, looking around with wonder.
There are rocks and dirt everywhere. I don’t know how long I was down there, but I must have been digging like a madman. The weird thing is, I don’t feel the least bit tired. My muscles aren’t aching. Apart from some scared gasping, my breath comes normally and my heart beats as regularly as if I’d been out for a gentle stroll.
I walk over to one of the biggest stones. Study it silently, warily. I bend, grab it by the sides, give an exploratory lift. I can shift it a few inches and that’s it, I have to drop it. It weighs a freaking ton. Under any normal circumstances I doubt I could lift it higher than knee level, not without throwing my back out completely. Yet I must have. And not only picked it up, but lobbed it out of the hole too.
Back to the rim of the mini abyss. Staring down into darkness. What brought me here? I’d like to think I was just sleepwalking, that I came here because I’d been thinking about the hole all evening. But there’s more to it than that. My senses are on high alert, animal sharp (
wolf
sharp), and I don’t think it’s any accident that I wound up here, digging as if my life depended on it.
As much as I don’t want to, I sit, turn, and lower myself into the hole. When I’m at the bottom, I allow a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, then take a really good look. The hole isn’t any wider than it was earlier. The rocks on the sides run down smoothly, like a mine shaft. The angle that we were following has continued, so although it’s a steep slope, it’s easy to climb up and down.
I bend and touch the next rock in line for removal. It’s jammed firmly in the earth. I tug hard and it barely moves. Yet I’m sure, if I’d tried a few minutes ago, while asleep, I could have ripped it out and. . .
Whispers.
I frown and cock my head. The sound has been there for a while, maybe since I regained my senses, but I thought it was the wind in the trees. Now that I focus, I realize it’s not coming from the trees. It seems to be coming from the rocks.
A bolt of excitement cuts through my confusion and apprehension. Maybe I’m close to a cave and the noise is the wind whistling between earth and rock. I flash on an image of Lord Sheftree’s treasure and the glory of being the first to discover it. With renewed enthusiasm I grasp the rock again and pull as hard as I can. I might not be able to toss it out of the hole, but if I can budge it slightly, maybe I can. . .
A flicker
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