I stepped off the plane at the Seattle airport with my backpack slung over my shoulder. I analyzed the crowd surrounding the gate, checking each face individually. I continued this survey as I made my way to pick up my duffel bag from baggage claim.
My muscles were tense the entire time I was in the crowd and didn't relax even when I climbed in a taxi. I hated big cities. He could be hiding anywhere in these concrete jungles and I would be unaware.
It's been three and a half centuries since I was turned into a vampire. Ever since I escaped that initial meeting in the cave with my sire, he'd been tracking me all over the world. It was like a never-ending game of cat and mouse. I never stayed in one spot for too long and was always looking over my shoulder.
I was now in Seattle, Washington to pursue a legend I heard about a pack of werewolves just west of here in a small town called Forks. I was hoping to make a life here, maybe attend the high school. I may be forever stuck at 22, but I was banking on my youthful face allowing me to blend in with the upperclassmen so I could stay in this community for as long as possible.
My whole plan about settling down in Forks was contingent on this legend having some truth to it. My source, a witch I met in the countryside of Wales some sixty-odd years ago, had a fifty/fifty track record. I prayed this was on the favorable side of that score. If not, she was in for an earful considering this wasn't the first wild goose chase she'd sent me on.
Once the taxi dropped me off at a gas station near the western edge of the city, I hefted my two bags over my shoulder and walked until I was out of sight. When I was sure no one was watching, I began to run.
Maybe it was because I'd spent so much time quite literally running from my sire, but I didn't enjoy the act. It always reminded me that I needed to keep going. Keep moving. Keep running. If I ever stopped, if he ever caught me, I would never escape from the hell he would put me through.
Over the years, I learned some things about the man who changed me, mostly from shamans and witches. I don't know why I drifted to them, only that my instincts told me they were trustworthy. Considering those same instincts are the ones that have kept me out of my sire's clutches all this time, I figured I should follow them.
Some of the information I learned about my sire, whose name was apparently Sargon, was that he is an avid fan of figuring out new ways to harm our kind. I met an oracle named Parthenia on the banks of the Achelous River shortly after my escape from France. She told me stories about him that had been floating around seemingly since the dawn of time.
According to her, there was another newborn vampire who had turned from the path that Sargon demanded we follow. This newborn wasn't able to escape like I was, so he fell victim to his sire's sadism. The legend says that the boy's screams could be heard for ten years straight, echoing throughout the hills of what's now Italy.
Although I was skeptical of the truth behind these stories, I couldn't help but acknowledge that the look in his eyes was that of a madman. I didn't know what exactly he would do if he was able to capture me and I didn't want to find out.
I arrived in Forks just under an hour after I left the Seattle city limits. I stopped at the edge of the town and admired what was hopefully going to be my home for a while. I started down the road at a human walking pace and made note of the locations of houses, stores, the school, and other buildings.
I noticed there was a brochure stand inside of the library's front door and headed in to see if they had any maps I could use for hunting. As I was reading through various pamphlets about the area, I felt someone approach me from further inside.
"Hey there," a confident voice greeted me. "New to town?"
I turned around and saw a sandy-haired boy smiling at me. He was just shy of six feet, so I had to look up to meet his blue-eyed gaze.
"Yeah, just moved here," I confirmed with a nod. "I was hoping to find some hiking trails or cool spots to visit."
"You're into hiking? That's awesome." He seemed almost excited by my answer. "My family owns the local outdoors shop. You know, backpacking equipment and whatnot. You should come check us out sometime. Newton's Olympic Outfitters. It's just down the street from here."
I raised my eyebrows in amusement. "I'll keep that in mind. I take it you know all the local trails and such?"
"Oh yeah, absolutely," he corroborated with gusto. "Want me to take you to them some time?"
"Sure," I said slowly, wracking my brain for an excuse to get out of that invitation, "but since it's the weekend, do you think you could point a few out for me right now? I want to get one hike in to calm the 'new school nerves', you know?"
"Are you the new girl everyone's been talking about? I'm a junior at Forks High School myself," he inquired with piqued interest.
"Yeah, I'll be a junior there too, I think. Still confused with the whole grade thing, I've been homeschooled forever and my parents weren't exactly traditional." The statement wasn't a total lie; I have been teaching myself various subjects when I had moments of peace. There's not much else to do over centuries of isolation.
"Excellent! Excellent. The name's Mike. Newton." He held out his hand. I was appreciative that I thought to put on gloves before getting on the plane in case I accidentally brushed against someone. I shook his hand gently.
"I'm Bella Elvet." Elvet was my mother's maiden name. I decided to use it in lieu of my father's surname, Cullen, in case I could be tracked in that way.
"It's an absolute pleasure to meet you, Bella. As for the trails..." He pulled out one of the pamphlets and pointed to a few trailheads. I nodded as I listened to him explain how they would be good for a quick day hike and which ones I should avoid before getting used to the Forks terrain.
"There's a creepy abandoned shack over off this path," he explained and gestured to a road with a "danger" rating. "The trail is dangerous to use so it's been closed off for years. But the rumor is that the shack is haunted." He wiggled his eyebrows and fingers as he embellished the last word, which caused me to giggle. This seemed to encourage him, so he added, "They say you can see the ghost of a widow crying in the window if you go there on the night of the new moon."
"That sounds terrifying," I appeased him humorously. "I'll be sure to steer clear. Thank you for your help, Mike. I best be going."
"For sure! See you at school on Monday." He gave me a goofy grin and turned back to a table of friends inside.
"Dude who was that? She's hot!" a boy with greasy black hair exclaimed quietly. The blonde girl next to him smacked his arm with a magazine as I turned to walk out.
"Abandoned shack, huh?" I looked back down at the map, grabbed my bags from where I left them outside, and made my way to the trailhead, which was a few miles out of town. I went slowly down the path in order to familiarize myself with the area and make sure I wasn't being followed.
After about half an hour, I found the break in the vegetation that seemed to lead deeper into the woods. I peered between the trees and, sure enough, there was a small building nestled among the overgrowth.
The wood building itself was surprisingly dark, presumably from exposure to the elements for however many years it had been out here. The windows had shutters that were falling off the hinges, but the door seemed to be in decent shape as I opened it to look inside. There was a stack of wooden crates in one corner and a small table with two chairs against the back wall.
Overall, the eight by ten shack seemed good enough to work as a residence for the new vampire in town. It wasn't as if I needed plumbing or a kitchen, just a spot to keep my stuff and spend time in when not in school.
I spent the next few hours doing what I could to tidy up the inside and clear away some of the vegetation that was blocking the door. After that was finished, I spent the night walking circles in a couple mile radius of my new home. I found plenty of other hiking trails and a few campgrounds, but thankfully no other residences were nearby.
As soon as my watch struck ten in the morning, I ran back to town and got some supplies to help my new home, as well as a Pacific Northwest atlas. By the end of the day, the windows were covered by tarps, a battery powered lamp hung over the table, and there was one less layer of dirt and dust on the visible surfaces. Content with my work, I grabbed my new maps and made my way to a nearby national park to hunt before school started the next morning.
I returned at dawn and changed into a gray flannel and dark jeans complete with vintage Chuck Taylors that were somehow still going strong after fifty years. I braided my hair, made sure I was wearing my watch and necklace, and headed out.
I didn't realize how nervous I was until I was walking through the crowd. As always, I scanned every face I saw. I heard a few whispers about me, but no one approached me all morning. I was able to keep to myself until the bell signaled lunch, and everyone made their way to the cafeteria.
"Bella!" I heard my name called by a familiar voice. I turned toward the sound and saw Mike Newton waving at me from a table across the room. I returned the wave and went over to him.
"Everyone, this is Bella. Bella, this is, well, everyone," he introduced. I saw a few familiar faces from my morning classes.
"It's so nice to meet you!" a girl with a kind smile and dark hair greeted me. "My name is Angela. Come sit here, this seat's open!"
"Oh, thank you." I awkwardly went to sit where I was told and looked around at the others.
"So, Bella!" The girl next to me started speaking. I recognized her from two of my morning classes. Her name was Jessica. "You're from Arizona, right? Aren't people from Arizona supposed to be, like, really tan?"
I laughed nervously. "Oh uh, yeah. I guess that's why they kicked me out."
Everyone at the table let out a surprised laugh at my lame comment, almost as if they didn't expect the new girl to say something remotely funny. Mike beamed at me from his spot next to a guy I remembered seeing at the library who I recognized as Eric Yorkie from my English class.
I suddenly felt the mood in the room shift. Jessica and the one girl whose name I didn't know both bit back a sharp breath as they glanced up to the doors leading to the courtyard. I followed their gaze and froze immediately at the sight.
Their skin was too pale, their walks too graceful, their faces too beautiful. Five people walked through the door and took their seats at a table in the corner of the room that all of the other students seemed to be steering clear of.
Fear gripped at my chest. If I had a heartbeat, it would have been beating wildly.
Vampires were in here in Forks.