Shan, Darren - Cirque Du Freak 11 - Lord of the Shadows

One thing held me back. A few years ago, in Mr Crepsley's home city, I'd been branded a killer by the police, and my name and photo had been flashed all over the TV and newspapers. What if Mr Dalton had heard about that? If he knew I was alive, and thought I was a murderer, he might alert the authorities. Safer not to take the risk. So I turned my back on the school and slowly walked away.

It was only then that it struck me that Mr Dalton wouldn't be the only one who might have picked up on the "Darren Shan — serial killer!" hysteria. What if my parents had heard about it! Mr Crepsley's city was in a different part of the world, and I wasn't sure how much news travelled between the two countries. But it was a possibility.

I had to sit down on a street bench while I considered that horrific potential. I could only begin to imagine how shocking it would have been if, years after they'd buried me, Mum and Dad had spotted me on the news, under a caption branding me a killer. How had I never thought about it before?

This could be a real problem. As I'd told Harkat, I didn't intend going to see my family — too painful for everyone. But if they already knew I was alive, and were living with the misbelief that I was a killer, I'd have to set the record straight. But what if theydidn't know?

I had to do some research. I'd passed a brand new, ultra-modern library earlier that morning. Hurrying back to it, I asked a librarian for assistance. I said I was doing a school project and had to pick some local story from the last three years to write about. I asked to examine all the issues of the main local paper, as well as the national paper which my mum and dad used to read. I figured, if word of my exploits in Mr Crepsley's city had spread this far, there'd be a mention of me in one of those two papers.

The librarian was happy to help. She showed me where the microfiche were stored, and how to use them. Once I'd got the knack of getting them up on screen and scanning from one page to the next, she left me to my own devices.

I started with the earliest editions of the national paper, from a few months before I ran into trouble with the law. I was looking for any mention of Mr Crepsley's city and the killers plaguing it. I made quick time, glancing only at the international sections. I found a couple of references to the murders — and they were both mocking! Apparently journalists here were amused by the vampire rumours which had swept the city, and the story was treated as light entertainment. There was a short piece in one issue, relaying the news that the police had caught four suspects, and then carelessly let all four escape. No names, and no mention of the people Steve had killed when he broke out.

I was relieved but angered at the same time. I knew the pain the vampaneze had brought to that city, the lives they'd destroyed. It wasn't right that such a grim story should be turned into the stuff of funny urban legends, simply because it happened in a city far away from where these people lived. They wouldn't have found it so amusing if the vampaneze had struck here!

I made a quick check on issues from the next few months, but the paper had dropped the story after news of the escape. I turned to the local paper. This was slower going. The main news was at the front, but local interest stories were scattered throughout. I had to check most of the pages of each edition before I could move on to the next.

Although I tried not to dwell on articles unrelated to me, I couldn't stop myself from skimming the opening paragraphs of the more interesting stones. It wasn't long before I was catching up with all the news — elections, scandals, heroes, villains; policemen who'd been highly commended, criminals who'd given the town a bad name; a big bank raid; coming third in a national tidy towns competition.

I saw photographs and read clips about several of my school friends, but one in particular stood out — Tom Jones! Tommy was one of my best friends, along with Steve and Alan Morris. We were two of the best footballers in our class. I was the goal-scorer, leading the line up front, while Tommy was the goal-stopper, pulling off spectacular saves. I'd often dreamt of going on to be a professional footballer. Tommy had taken that dream all the way and become a goalkeeper.