Cold Read

by Renee Joiner

  A rusalka knew death all too well whenever they came across it, even if only its shadow loomed over a person. Walking into the barn, she had already sensed his life force detaching from his vessel. It left him gradually and then all at once, now hanging suspended around him. Even Whiskey had known the man was dying. The dog had stopped barking awhile before the final breath was borne, merely holding vigil over what remained of him.

  The air around her suddenly went cold. From the corner of her eye, she saw the spirit of the foreman standing over her, looking down on himself. He could not have been more than forty. His face was stern, rugged, and yet, handsome. His shock was still evident. To most of them, it was. Her kind didn’t know the spirit realm’s intricacies, but they knew enough of people to understand the emotions they take with them.

  She reached out almost organically, feeling the flow of the energies he had left behind. It seeped into her, filled with the lost potential of stolen years and vitality. It was a sign that he had died young and a leftover mental impression from the things his spirit yearned for in hindsight. It left her heavy and filled with sorrow until she felt the last of him dissipate into the ether. The death energies she had absorbed coursed through her and then settled. She allowed a moment of silence for whatever memory he had left behind in this world. She was a stranger and mere observer, but someone who would transfer his unique spiritual essence onto the next soul in need.

  She turned around to look at Whiskey, who had his head cocked to the side. “Seems you’re a tad clairvoyant as well.”

  Just then, she got the odd sensation that she was not alone. Looking towards the barn entrance, she saw Daniel standing slack-jawed as he watched her. She immediately knew that he had borne witness to things that he was not ready to comprehend.

  The barn was filled with people. The estate owner had returned, despairing at the death of her foreman. From the reaction, Tasia could not help but wonder whether it was grief shining through, or perhaps the worry of the physical labor that she suddenly had to bear herself. Emergency services had been dispatched, making a declaration of time of death half an hour later. The defibrillators had yielded no reaction. Of course, she didn’t expect it to. Depending on what Daniel had made of what he had seen, she doubted whether he thought it would help either. A coroner had been summoned as well, at the direction of the estate owner. Having connections to the government, she pulled some strings to request the man’s prompt presence. Despite his inquest, he ultimately concluded that it was nothing more than a heart attack.

  Tasia resigned herself in accepting the pomp, circumstance, and cold rigidity of the event. Finding herself and Daniel there, as strangers to the property, was suspicious in its own right. As soon as their respective professions’ details came to light, they were regarded with more civility. As a professional nurse, her account of the incident answered any questions that surrounded the medical evidence. As an agent of the FBI, Daniel’s profession appeared to answer all the rest. The coroner was placated, although he would invariably hold further inquisition later on.

  The crowd dispersed, and they were left with the curious estate owner and some ragtag employees. They had arrived to inspect the commotion. “Detective, you had mentioned you were investigating a case in the vicinity?”

  Daniel didn’t bother to ask the woman’s name. He was lost in thought but nonetheless brought himself to answer. “Yes. There have been some... suspicious activity.”

  “Does it have anything to do with that blue pick-up that has been humming up and down the roads of late?”

  That got his attention. Daniel’s head snapped up in surprise as he regarded the woman eagerly. “Have you seen it? You said, ‘of late.’ Does that mean there have been recent sightings?”

  “Why, yes, sir. In fact, just a day ago.”

  “Why did you think of the blue truck when he mentioned suspicious activity?”

  “Well, Miss, there have been several reported thefts in the area. Folk around here are pretty darn perceptive when it comes to anything that seems out of place in this neighborhood. It just so happens that the old thing’s sightings corresponded with reports our neighbors submitted of tools and equipment going missing. Anything from horse stirrups and saddles to actual machinery. With a truck like that, you are bound to make a decent getaway. Those things were built to endure war, sin, and a woman’s scorn.”

  “Did no one think of reporting the incident?”

  “Uh, no. Pardon, Miss, but we thought he was perhaps a scavenger before we put two and two together.”

  “Tasia,” Daniel interrupted. “I suggest we survey the area then. If these sightings had been as frequent as our friends here have mentioned, there might be a possibility that the truck and its driver are still lurking around.”

  Tasia found his request odd. If Daniel was dead-set on not wasting time, then what he proposed was very out of character. She simply nodded. Both offered their farewells, and they were off as soon as they climbed in the car.

  They drove off of the property and onto the street. Tasia believed he was about to take the route that would put them back on the main road. Still, instead, he moved even deeper into the neighborhood, winding in and out of side avenues until she had misplaced her sense of direction. Was he really looking for the truck?

  The thought was banished as he brought the car to a sudden halt under a weeping willow. To her surprise, they were parked close to the lakeside and on the edge of the neighborhood.

  “Tasia,” he started, his voice ragged with exhaustion. “I need you to tell me what I just saw.”

  She knew exactly what he was referring to, and her mind raced as she tried to look at him. Daniel Cordeiro had certainly seen better days as he sat there, looking lost and forsaken. In minutes it seemed as though exhaustion gripped him firmly in its clutches, and she was sure that it was due to his erratic mind trying to fill in the gaps of what he witnessed.

  “Did you kill that man—the foreman in the barn?”

  “Daniel! No!”

  “You did something, Tasia. You did something to him inside that place—if that was even you. Everything about you was different, though. You seemed otherworldly and incandescent, and you... you ‘pulled something from him.’ He was dead when I came back. I thought he’d still have a fighting chance, but he was gone. It really looked... like you killed him—”

  “Okay, Daniel. Enough. You need to calm down, alright?” she said, putting her arm on his shoulder. She was throwing her magical intent behind her words, and for an instant, she convinced herself that her soothing touch was working.

  “No!” He winced away, looking at her with indignation. “Like that! What is that? How do you have that effect over me? What the hell are you? Oh, God. You’re involved in this entire thing, aren’t you?”

  “Daniel!” She changed her approach. If comforting him proved ineffective, she would use force. “You saw things that you would not—could not—understand. It’s freaking you out. I get it. Right now, I know what’s going through your head. You’re grabbing at explanations. You’re trying to make sense of it by alienating me and connecting it to all the bad things that have been happening. You’re filling in the gaps, about me and my kind, like countless people have done before you. So before you make me a victim to any of your judgments, slurs, and accusations, give me a chance to defend myself.”

  “Your... kind? Then tell me what you are....” he begged softly.

  She closed her eyes, trying to organize her thoughts. What she was doing was forbidden. But having seen what he did, Daniel was more of a liability in his uncertainty than he would be if he was in the know. “We are called... rusalkas. In essence, we are spirits of nature, given great power to sway man’s choices and tip the scales of life. What you saw was not a murder. The energies that I took are what... it’s what’s left behind after a person has passed. With it, I can bring someone back from the brink of death. Someone that stands a fighting chance. It’s why I’m a nurse. It’s why I work
the hours I do. For all the people that pass through that place every day, few, if any, make it past the emergency unit if that’s where they’re brought in. I change those odds.”

  He stared at her and then at the dashboard of the car. “I tested you when you came to my office because I knew there was more to you... but this... rusalka’s... death energies....”

  “Wait, go back a few paces. You tested me?”

  “Am I next?”

  “What? No! Stop changing the topic.”

  “You’ve been changing it for years. Deflecting, misdirecting, avoiding. I don’t know how to piece this together. Your death omens lead you to people, people who will die. Ultimately, you’re in the perfect position to harvest their energies. Fuck! I can’t believe I’m trying to make sense of all this crap.”

  “I’m telling you the truth now.”

  “You’re still not telling me everything. Your omens led you to me, and you’re reading objects to evoke visions about the women we’re tracking. Are we all going to be part of a cull? All of us, conveniently in one place while facing our possible deaths. There is a lot of energy to harvest, isn’t there?”

  “Don’t insult me! How dare you claim I’m a reaper that takes lives at leisure. You’ve listened to nothing that I said. In your ignorance and fear, you have proven yourself no better than those that used to witch hunt my people to extinction.” She leaned closer to emphasize her words. “Let me make this very clear to you in as few words as possible. You’re a stubborn prick, you’ve always been. The reasons we never stood a chance was a consequence of that. I knew that I couldn’t protect you from my world because I wouldn’t be able to protect you from yourself. You make wild and irrational assumptions but don’t understand anything about my motives. I am here because I had a premonition about your death. I am here because I wanted to make sure you’re okay. I am here because I want to try and prevent it. The things I do—the influence I exert, the death energies I gather, the actions based on what I see through mystic eyes—are to try and save you and others—not to harm you!”

  “Then... why did you take that man’s energies if there was no one to save?”

  “I did it to try and save you, you numbnuts. Or your sister. If... if we were too late.”

  She could sense his calm noticeably. He was quiet for a while before he threw her another curveball she didn’t expect. “So, are you saying you care about me?”

  “Wh—I... That’s your question?”

  “It would help if I knew.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I have to be if this is going to land well in my mind.” In that instance, his phone rang. He managed to pull himself out of his daze as he answered. “Hello.”

  Tasia heard a voice on the other end of the line, but the words were inaudible. While Daniel was talking to the caller, she came to terms with what she had just done. A thought crossed her mind then. Maybe he’s receiving a call from the kidnapper right now. She looked back at him and waited until he finished. Eventually, he hung up.

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  “It was Steve....”

  “You look stricken by some unexpected news. What did he say?”

  “You’re not going to believe this,” he said, as he laughed in what looked like disbelief. “The truck. They did a background check. It belongs to Max.”

  Nine

  Things We Lost In The Fire

  “I just spoke to Marshall again,” Daniel reported, after returning from his conversation with the ranch owner. “Allegedly, he’s seen this truck more times than he’d like to admit. In fact, he used to see it when it was parked down in his unoccupied field just before you reach the intersection to his main property.”

  “Does he know that a couple has been plowing on his fields?” she asked.

  “I—I didn’t ask. Did you seriously just make a sex joke?” he asked while blushing ever so slightly.

  “Maybe,” she answered coyly.

  “Hey, so... why didn’t you go in with me? I’m sure you had some questions of your own.”

  “His wife.”

  “His... wife? You have some issues with her?”

  “Yes. She’s a rusalka as well”

  “She is?” he said, feeling on edge. “What—what does that mean?”

  “Right now, for our purposes, nothing. It’s not important right now. Let’s just say I know why this place has become so popular of late. If I go in there now, I expose myself. If she has knowledge of me and what I am, she may try to compromise what we’re doing. Our kind has a bad reputation for a reason. There are those who are responsible for it. I don’t know much about her, but something about her doesn’t yet sit well with me. Although, whether deliberately or not, she helped us when she gave us the tip-off on Robin and her possible captor coming through—posing as a couple.”

  “Are you telling me your ‘kind’ gets territorial?”

  “We’re as beastly as people are for the most part. So yes. We can be. But right now, that is not the issue. We need to focus on this new information we have.”

  Daniel leaned against the bonnet of his car, crossing his arms as he thought. “Your powers. Does it allow you to...I don’t know, cross-reference psychic information? What I mean to say is, can you in any way maybe link any impressions you’ve had of Max with the others? Or maybe even connect other people’s references to him?”

  She shook her head in response. It was an exciting thought. Tasia had to commend him for his creativity, even though she was sure it couldn’t work. However, the thought never left her mind.

  “We’re so close. It feels like we’re so close every single time. But there’s always some missing part.”

  There were a few missing parts, Tasia had to admit. The visions that she had were vague at best, and at most, they’d been lucky to make the connections between the clues they did have.

  “There’s one thing I don’t understand, for example,” Daniel began. “The truck belonged to Max. Max Pearce. So why would Robin’s friend have claimed it was someone else?”

  It struck her like a lightning bolt. “Oh my god! Daniel. That’s it!” The truth had been eluding them on the last day, not because of a missing clue but because of a lie. “Max! The truck belonged to Max. This means that Robin never snuck away with a man called Matt. Robin’s friend had lied. It was Max!”

  He was flabbergasted. The answer had been right in front of him. It was evident the moment he received new information regarding the truck’s ownership. Still, for the briefest moment, they had all but discounted Max Pearce’s involvement. “All of it... all of it is linked. Jesus! I just don’t know what to do with it all. Where do we go from here?” he asked, throwing his hands up in the air.

  Her mind was racing. It raced all along the dirt track back to the empty field that was full of questions. There was something about the place that caught her attention toward the end. Amid high frustrations, she had discounted it as a dead end. Yet now, its relevance was reinstated with a lie that had been unraveled. Two initials flashed in her mind.

  R+M. The M never stood for Matt. That meant...

  “Get in the car!” Tasia said with urgency as she flung open her door. Following suit, Daniel didn’t ask too many questions as he did the same before sliding in behind the steering wheel.

  “Where are we going?” he asked, turning the key in the ignition.

  “The field at the edge of Marshall’s property. Now.”

  He reversed, pulling out of the driveway and barreling towards the street. “Last time we were there, it didn’t surmount too much. I trust you have your reasons.”

  “A fucking good one,” she answered with some force. From the corner of her eye, she caught him smiling.

  It took them a matter of minutes to reach their destination. No sooner had he stopped at the edge of the field then she jumped out of the car and bolted for the fence posts. A few down, she found exactly what she’d been looking for. There, carved into worn wood, were the in
itials she had seen, marking the couple’s legacy. It seemed eerie to her now, with the strokes of the letters almost violent. Just below it hung what she was looking for. “Bingo.”

  “Dog tags? Were those here the last time?”

  “Yeah, they were.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

  “Because it seemed pretty insignificant the moment I discovered it. In my mind, it belonged to the fabrication we came to know as ‘Matt’. He was dead, a casualty of war. For that reason, I saw this necklace as nothing but a mere ruse. I can’t get retroactive visions about death, remember? The deceased are gone and take their memories and glimpses with them. But, like Max, this has just gained all the significance we have been looking for because he’s alive. We find Max, we find the truck. And,” she said, looking down at the tags, “we just found Max.”

  “You told me, though, that you only get premonitions of death from personal effects such as this, not something else.”

  “I also didn’t know I could get prophetic dreams about white dogs running past stables. At this point, anything is possible. I don’t know what I’ll see when I touch this.”

  “Well then,” he said, hunching up his shoulders as he prepared for the outcome, “moment of truth.”

  She reached out, feeling the cold bite of the metal as it touched her skin. It happened in an instant. All went dark right before her vision was set alight. The spark arose right after she heard the crashing clang of glass breaking as it hit something solid. Flames sprung before her and started licking its way up the sides of the car. It wasn’t just any car. As the dancing fire illuminated the sight before her, she caught the familiar hue of sky blue that she would never be able to mistake regardless of how hard she tried. The blaze spread out across the surface, engulfing the entire truck in flames. As those flames threw reflections over the windows, she caught the briefest glimpse of a dark face hellishly peeking through the inferno. Shadows were thrown in all directions, and she looked around her just as the vision faded to black.