Chapter 2 - Alone

Underwater, I waited. Wait a day, Death had said to me. You'll be free of the Volturi. If it was true, even if nothing else was true, it was enough for me, no matter if the perfect moment I'd want to stop would never come. It was a ridiculous wager, since the thousands and thousands of horrible moments I had to live, with no end in sight, were the reason I wished to terminate my unnatural existence. But now I was given a reprieve and the impulse of self-destruction was somehow muted. It would come again, I was sure, and then I would force Death's bony hand.

When I finally emerged from the lake I heard only the sounds of the forest - there were no people nearby, human or otherwise. I was soaking wet and I had something to take care of first. I smashed a rock and put the bigger fragments inside my dark mantle, making a secure bundle of it and letting it sink into the water again. The chain with the embossed "V" medal met the same fate.

I had to go, so I started running South. I was hungry and would need to feed soon - if I managed to find somebody who wouldn't be missed. Vampires had to stay hidden from humans and never leave traces – this capital rule applied especially to me, as I'd to stay hidden from my former coven too.

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After some hundreds of miles I came upon a rustic cabin in a tiny clearing. It seemed empty, so I went inside. On reflection, I thought I wasn't dressed as the local human population would be, so far from civilization. Looking around I found some discarded garments, their faint smell indicating that they hadn't been used for months. There was nothing I could do for my dark grey pants, too dressy for a hiker, but if I shed my fitted shirt and coat, maybe I would look less conspicuous. Shuddering with disgust, I donned a white, logoed t-shirt and a checked flannel shirt.

Outside it was sunny and, even with no people around, I thought I should wait and come up with a plan. I examined the standard waterproof pouch each warrior was given when sent out on a mission. Documents – of which I needed to get rid of, as the name I had been given for travelling would be traceable. The same applied to the cell phone and the credit card. I had also one thousand American dollars in cash, which was fine, even if I probably were still in Canada. A small box contained a number of contact lenses, a modern invention that made the life of travelling vampires easier. Unless they had golden irises, instead of crimson ones… no, I won't think about that.

If I choose a nomadic existence I wouldn't need much – just the occasional change of clothes, and I could take further funds from my prey after feeding. The idea was unappealing to me, however, nor would it help me to "reconnect with my humanity". I knew that around the world there were semi-settled small covens. They moved around, but stopped here and here for a while, to enjoy the perks of civilization and culture.

After I became a vampire I lived as nomad, together with my sire Algernon, and I'd hated it. He never told me exactly the circumstances of my transformation; all I read in his mind were just the bare facts, not the reasons behind. He'd come to the Highlands attracted by the forced evictions – later known as "clearances" - going on at the time. Displaced people could easily disappear, and the not yet dead victims of riots could provide an easy meal. Apparently, he found me lying on the ground, unconscious and with a cracked skull. After the Sheriff and his men chased the rioting crofters from the land, I was left behind in the chaos. I was still breathing, therefore Algernon carried me to where he hoped not to be seen or heard. He'd then started drinking my blood, but he was disturbed and I was left alone to suffer the flames of the metamorphosis. I believe he had seen other immortals approaching and had fled, having reasons of his own not to be seen.

When, later on, I became able to sort the thoughts I was now capable to read in his mind, it was difficult to make a sense of them. The fact that I had lost my memories did not help at all. The venom had restored my shattered brain, but my past was forever lost.

As far as I could understand it, Algernon came back two days later to see what had happened to me - surely with the intention of snapping my neck. My change, however, had progressed more quickly than he thought and I was already awake, confused, terrified and extremely thirsty. It was too late to kill me - I was stronger than him - and he knew that leaving a newborn to roam the countryside was something that would elicit punishment from the governing Italian coven, should they learn of it. I had to be trained and told the rules and that's what he did, if unwillingly. As newborns go, I was more scared than furious, more depressed than enraged and I submitted to him.

…. *** ….

By dusk, I was ready to leave the cabin. I stored my belongings in an old backpack I found in the loft and headed for the US border. I took a route across the mountains, as I had no paperwork to make a legal crossing. I would need to procure clean documents, but I had no idea how to go about it. Cash was a more pressing issue. I couldn't access my reserves without alerting the Volturi, and new credit cards required papers.

However, there was one thing I knew: I was a great poker player – one benefit of my ability.

Card playing, table games and other similar forms of entertainment were and are very popular in Volterra, as a way to pass the infinite time. Nobody wanted to play me at cards, obviously, but dice were acceptable. When my special skills weren't needed, I sometime went to the Venice's casino, where I made some quick money with poker and then lost most of it at the roulette or other games of chance, where I had no advantage. Unfortunately, Ca' Vendramin was not anymore the elegant place it used to be; now most of its patrons were either Japanese tourists or gangsters from Eastern Europe. In fact, some of the more irritating ones never got back to their hotels. A guy vacationing in Venice had to dine somewhere, after all.

Now, I had to locate some gambling haunts in the US. Having disposed of a truck driver who'd incautiously given me a lift and well sated, I drove his truck for a while before sinking it in a lake. Eventually, I found a mall and bought better quality clothing that would see me through the security of the gambling halls.

Then I made a mistake.

In Oregon, many casinos are owned by native people, apparently, and such was the one I eventually choose, a modest enterprise in the Coos Bay area. It was called "Cold River". They were lax about identification, which was fortunate. I'd taken the truck driver's license, but there were not many similarities in our features and he had been older than me, at least in human years.

I deposited three hundred dollars in the cage and waited for an available seat at a poker table. Playing prudently, and allowing for occasional losses, I thought I would be able to double my money in just one day, and start again somewhere else the next day.

Things were progressing positively when I realized that the pit boss – a middle aged native – was looking at me intently. I concentrated on his mind and froze. He knew, or suspected, what I was. It made sense, unfortunately. Had not a pack of native shape shifters, who knew everything about us, allied itself to a coven of strange immortals? In fact, it had been the very reason I was sent to the Olympic Peninsula by my masters. Shape shifters who could - and had - killed vampires.

Were all Indians aware of our existence? I did know that indigenous people in Brazil had a lot of legends concerning my species. Legends based, evidently, on true facts. Now I had to acknowledge that North American natives were also in the know. I needed to leave before the pit boss decided on any course of action. I rose from the table as soon as I could, went to recover the deposit and left quickly.

…***…

I folded my hand, despite having a flush. After two wins, it was better to start losing for a while, so not to make anybody nervous. The route that brought me to Atlantic City had been long and full of difficulties. Still intentioned to obtain money by gambling, I had left the Pacific North-West and headed East, moving at night from town to town and looking for opportunities.

In two centuries I had gathered total control on my thirst and, after the truck driver, I could've gone on without feeding for about a month. However, I had had to kill again to procure more money and an ID that could temporarily serve me. In doing this, I knew that I was no better than a common bandit but, after all, I was just behaving like a human, if a criminal one. Death would be pleased by my efforts.

For the money, I was so lucky to happen on a guy who had just robbed a liqueur store and had pockets full of cash. To procure a usable ID was trickier, as I had to find somebody who resembled me and was not going to be missed for a while. Eventually I took out a con man who tried to relieve me of my cash, relieving him of his life and fake IDs instead.

All in all, I was glad that the two men I killed were not innocents … here I did a double take: where was this feeling coming from? Was it because I'd had no need to drink from them and I didn't?

No matter, I had more urgent things to take care of. I could finally take a plane and reach my next destination: Atlantic City. Buying my ticket with cash got me some suspicious look, but I was eventually allowed to buy it.

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Finally, after the Oregon debacle, I was sitting again at a poker table. The "Montecarlo" was a middle range establishment on the Marina, well suited to my needs. Since I was going to lose the next couple of hands, I didn't need to pay a lot of attention to my fellow players' minds, so I idly scanned other people in the area. At the back of the hall, behind the cage, I noticed a number of doors, one with an obvious bodyguard in front of it. In fact, many gambling places offered the possibility to rent rooms for private events and such was the case here.

The heavy's mind surprised me, however. He was looking at a dice table, and he was expecting a fight to erupt. But the people he was looking at were not harboring any violent thoughts. If anything, they were worried. Regardless, a fight did erupt among them, with insults and some manhandling. It was strange, like play-acting. The guard left his position, looking ready to intervene and an old man came out of the now unguarded door to see what was happening.

"Balistreri! Here is the bastard." A cold, determined thought reached me. Near the entrance a newcomer was looking at the old man, a hand concealed inside his coat and murder on his mind. Nobody was watching him, everybody's attention taken by the staged fight. In an instant I saw that the old man was going to be shot and, in the confusion, his killer would probably be able to get away. I don't know what moved me, perhaps the fact that I was not taken by the charade and it pissed me off. Moving much faster than a human – but unnoticed – I reached the old man and pushed him down. A bullet hit the wall where his head would have been a moment before.

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Notes

The Highland Clearances were the forced displacement of a significant number of people in the Scottish Highlands during the 18th and 19th centuries, I was an agricultural revolution that resulted in enclosures, largely carried out by hereditary aristocratic landowners. The changes were seen to be supported by the government, which gave financial aid for roads and bridges to assist the new sheep-based agriculture and trade. The Church of Scotland was divided. There was mass forced emigration to the sea coast, the Scottish Lowlands and the North American colonies. The clearances were particularly notorious due to the lack of legal protection for year-by-year tenants, the abruptness of the change from the traditional clan system, and the brutality of many evictions.

Edward sometime calls Native Americans Indians. A vampire over 200 years old, who has lived mostly in Italy (where political correctness is not the norm), won't be politically correct in his mind, and sometime even in his speech.

I am very grateful to all who favored, alerted and, in particular, reviewed. Thank you so much.