Read Online City of the Snakes by Darren Shan - Free Book Online Page A

missing lunatics. They knew the women couldn’t get far—with no money, and dressed in simple gowns, they weren’t going to make much of a break for freedom—but the worry was that they’d attract attention, leading to all sorts of uncomfortable questions.
    They searched the streets on foot, working in methodical circles. Nearly six hours later they found the quartet, crouched behind a garbage bin, sucking on the bones of a derelict who must have frozen or starved to death days before.
    Jennifer and Rose were shocked, but since there was nothing they could do without calling the authorities and confessing, they opted to make the best of a bad lot, dumped the body in the bin and shepherded their stuffed, sated charges home.
    Over the coming months, they realized the ladies’ taste for human flesh wasn’t going to go away. They’d get restless, stop eating, complain and act up. They grew violent if denied their cannibalistic pleasures. The only way to keep them quiet was to take them out, locate a fresh corpse and let them at it.
    So that’s what Jennifer and Rose did.
    The first of the Harpies finishes her meal, staggers away from the others, sits at Jennifer’s feet and burps. It’s Rettie, Jennifer’s sister. One of the Harpies died a couple of years ago. Jennifer never told me what of. I’ve a sneaking suspicion it might have been indigestion.
    I don’t wholeheartedly approve of the Harpies, but they do no harm,feeding only on the dead or those—like the rapist tonight—who are as close to it as makes no difference. It’s a dog-eat-dog world. Who am I to pass judgment on a few mad old women who’ve taken that credo literally?
    I tried curing the ladies of their craving once. I used to be able to help people with mental difficulties. As a younger man, I could absorb their fear and hurt, and ease their pain. But I couldn’t work my charms on the Harpies. Didn’t even get to first base. I think I lost that gift around the same time I abandoned my humanity. Monsters can’t cure, only kill.
    As the others reach their fill and desert the body of the rapist, Jennifer starts toward it with the intention of carting it away for disposal. I stop her with a gentle hand. “That’s OK. I’ll get rid of the remains.”
    “Are you sure?” Jennifer asks.
    “Yeah. Spare your back. You’re getting too old for this. You should hire someone younger to help.”
    Jennifer laughs. “It’s not exactly a post you can advertise for.”
    I grin. “Guess not.”
    “Besides, I can’t complain. Mr. Clarke, God bless him, has relieved me of most of the stress. I have things easy compared with how they used to be. This would be a harsh, lonely life if we had no friends.”
    “Yes,” I sigh, and stand aside as she leads Rettie and the other two Harpies away, to wherever they now call home. I muse on the dark wonders and variety of the world for a couple of minutes, then roll on a pair of gloves, bag scraps of the rapist’s clothes, flesh and bones—not forgetting the dildo—and grab hold of the bloody remains of the dead woman. She doesn’t weigh much now that she’s been stripped to the bone. I hoist her onto my shoulders and go looking for a decent-sized Dumpster or furnace.
    Just another average night in the city.

old friends
     
    I sleep in late. Putting an end to the rapist pleased me, and I sleep the sleep of the
    (
almost
)
    just. I half wake a couple of times, but doze off again without opening my eyes, smiling in the gloominess of my stuffy room, enjoying the warmth and comfort of my bed.
    It’s after midday when I rise and launch into the first set of the day’s exercises. Squats. I’m up to 236 when someone knocks on the door.
    I come to a cautious halt. I’m not expecting visitors, and unexpected guests are rare around here. Religious missionaries don’t venture this far east—they gave up on us long ago—and nobody’s dumb enough to come collecting for charity. My neighbors aren’t in the habit