Eighth Grade Bites Read Online Free Page B

Vlad.”
    Vlad proceeded to squirt a healthy glob of blood onto his plate, dipped a fry in it, and bit off the end. His hamburger was raw, and the blood from it had seeped visibly into the bun. He picked it up in both hands, feeling his fangs extend at the scent of it, and tore off a bite. Henry watched in disgust as the blood dripped from Vlad’s bun to his plate, but Vlad responded only by chewing. Years of watching Vlad eat had apparently not been enough to keep Henry from getting grossed out.
    It was dark outside, but after their meal, the boys settled onto the porch with a drink and watched the stars peek slowly out from behind their velvet-sky blanket. On their way out the door, Nelly had handed Henry one of those juices that come in the foil bags, with the sharp-ended straw poked into one end. She’d handed Vlad a drink of blood in the same manner. They enjoyed their drinks and the lingering sounds of approaching night for several minutes before Vlad spoke. “I wonder who will sub for Mr. Craig. We can’t possibly get stuck with the principal for much longer.” It was one of a thousand things running through his mind. He certainly didn’t want it to be Mrs. Bell, with her blue hair, crooked teeth, and equally crooked, painted-on eyebrows. For some strange reason, she always smelled like aftershave and sore-muscle cream. It really made you wonder about her after-school activities. “Mrs. Bell took over for two weeks when Mr. Craig’s brother died last year.”
    â€œCan’t be her. She’s teaching full-time at the high school now.” Henry had cupped a moth in his hands and was watching it fluttering against his palms.
    Vlad took the last sip from his drink and set the container on the steps. Remembering the cylindrical object he’d found upstairs, he slipped it from his pocket and held it out for Henry’s perusal. “Check this out. Found it up in the attic.”
    Henry released the moth, and as he slid the object out of Vlad’s palm, Vlad felt a strange urge to close his hand and pull the cylinder away. Henry turned it over in his hands, admiring the engraved symbol on the bottom. “What is it?”
    Vlad reached out and plucked it from Henry’s hand. “No clue.” He slid it back into his pocket and felt an instant blanket of comfort surround him.
    Henry yawned and stretched his arms up toward the night sky. He had big, dark circles under his eyes.
    Vlad yawned, too. Six in the morning came awfully early, and tomorrow he had the annoyance of some substitute teacher to deal with. With a stretch, Vlad moved up the steps and into the house, the promise of sleep heavy on his weary eyelids.

4
    THE SEARCH CONTINUES
    A MAN DRESSED ENTIRELY IN black looked from the crumpled newspaper photograph in his gloved hand to the boy up ahead of him who was timidly crossing the street, clutching a bag from the Stop & Shop in one hand and wearing an old thirty-five-millimeter camera around his neck. Returning his attention to the photograph, the man nodded in satisfaction and moved stealthily up the street after the boy.
    The boy proceeded into a dark alleyway. The moon was full and high, casting a cool blue over the town of Bathory. Long shadows stretched across the street.
    The man in black stuffed the clipping back into his pocket and quickened his pace.
    The Stop & Shop bag hung limply from the boy’s hand. With his other hand, the boy fiddled with the lens cap of his outdated camera, watching it far more closely than he watched where he was walking.
    The man swung around him, standing in the boy’s path.
    It wasn’t until the boy collided with the strange man that he noticed his presence. The bag fell from the boy’s hand as he stumbled. “Oh jeez, sorry. I . . . I didn’t see you there.” He smiled weakly, apologetically, up at the stranger.
    The man smiled, careful to keep his fangs hidden behind closed lips.