The clear morning air was warmer as the sun rose on Heath. The experience of learning to operate one of these weird mechanisms that these humans rode in had been painful, but he had felt like he had finally got the feel of it. He had destroyed the first one within minutes, not realizing what the lever on the wheel housing meant. He had put it in the "R" position and then mashed on each of the pedals. One person, a dog, and a tree paid the price for his ignorance as the vehicle shot backward out of the drive where he was currently stealing it.

The next one had three pedals, and he never got the damned thing to move. He sat swearing under his breath, moving the stupid stick as the machine growled at him insistently. Once a hound started to bark at the outbuilding where he had found it, he abandoned his efforts to tame that beast and moved on to the next one. The last was some weird four-door creation with a bed, but this time he tried to bring the stick mechanism down to the "L" position. There he had found a nice compromise between the two pedals that made it go and stop until he had got used to motion that did not involve his feet.

That was a week and three vehicles ago. For some reason, this indicator kept reaching an "E," and the machine would stall with that. He did not read the local language. He could only speak it, but reading was a privilege he had not yet obtained. The road signs went by as nothing more than garbled markers, something to reassure him he was making progress in some direction and not in a circle. Reassuring, considering he had killed the Grand Maestru's son and heir. What was not reassuring was Karen would soon be back on his trail and this time with the elite Dhampir in tow.

The current machine started to make awful noises reminiscent of rattling bolts before it shut off, and he coasted it to the side of the road. Heath grabbed his bag out of the seat next to him that contained all the overworld possessions he had managed to round up over the last month. His favorite so far was a weapon of the ingenious invention that took the little metal cartridges and sounded like thunder when it went off. The result was the tip of the cartridge buried in whichever direction the wonderful metal object had been sighted. All these things would help when it came to a showdown with his Mentor.

He set out at a brisk pace down the hard, black surface that they used to make their roads here on the surface. Before long, there would be one of these contraptions to come by, and sometimes one of them would stop and pick him up. Then in no time, a new contraption. One of these times, he would have to talk to a human instead of taking the machine. It would not be bad to learn some of the culture to help blend better into the human world. One thing was becoming painfully clear. He would never be returning to Maramures, and he would never be in the culture he had grown these thirty years in.

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He heard the now familiar roar of the machines coming behind him as it slowed for what they saw as a juvenile of their species. A young woman occupied the operator's seat, her shoulder-length black hair shining with a glossy blue color in the midday sun. Her window eased down a crack as her face broke into a friendly smile.

"Car problems?" she asked, her voice had a strange accent from the one he was used to. It was almost mesmerizing to him to hear the way she drew out her words. He shook his head slightly to bring it back into focus. This was the exact reason young Dhampir was not allowed anything but training...distraction.

"Ah, yeah..it stalled on me. I decided to walk up to the next town to find someplace to stay for the night." Heath stammered out shyly. This was the first time he had tried to communicate with humans. He had heard they could be violent if they were not a bit dull-minded. The thralls of his Master were all complacent, compelled to absolute obedience to the point of death.

"You're in for a walk then. The next town is near forty miles up this road. Don't you have a cell phone to call someone?" She looked at him with an inquisitive eyebrow.

"No..," Heath hesitated for a second, "Besides, my family gave up on me a while ago. I am on my own."

Her eyes filled with compassion, and he heard a click, "Get in. I'll give you a lift."

He climbed in the opposite door. feeling awkward in the opposite seat. She sat looking expectant of him.

"Buckle up," She said, grabbing her seat belt as an example. Heath latched the "seat belt" and decided this had been one of the better ideas he had had yet. The music playing softly in the background sounded like someone crying, but it was reassuring after weeks of silence.

"Gotta name?" She asked.

"Kyle"

"Jane," She said, extending a hand. He at least understood this formality. The thralls still insisted on this silly institution between each other. He shook her hand gently.

"Well, Jane, thank you for the ride," He said with a warm smile. He set his arm back down gently, making sure not to disturb his thunder weapon under his shirt.