Power of the Seers

by James David Victor

  I just wanted to get out.

  8

  The Persistent Specter

  Krisjian

  Krisjiiiiaaan… Oh, Krisjian!

  I groaned and rolled over on my little pile of scraps and plastic bags. I normally wasn’t a huge sleeper, but unconsciousness meant that I wouldn’t feel hunger or pain for a little while longer. Besides, I could tell even with my eyes closed that the sun wasn’t up yet, which meant it was too early to take advantage of the sleep-deprived commuters trudging to work every morning.

  Ay, Krisjian, I know you need your beauty sleep and all, but if you wake up, I’ll make sure you get some food in you, alright?

  Wait… If I was in my little hideaway, how was someone talking to me? I shot up like a rocket, my head whipping toward the sound of the voice to see none other than the same woman from earlier.

  “Y-you!” I sputtered, eyes wide. “Who are you? How did you get in here?”

  Whoa, hold your horses there. One question at a time. She laughed as she walked away from me to sit herself down on an old crate. Man, you sound like me, not too long ago. I suppose it’s a common enough reaction.

  Now that she was right in front of me, I looked her over once more. She was tall, around the size of a man, with broad shoulders and broader hips. She looked like the type of woman who appeared all soft and weak from some angles, but then would kick you down the stairs for angering her.

  Her face was kind and warm, a rarity around these parts, and it came down to a little point to make it almost heart-shaped. Her eyes were hazel, but her hair had completely changed from when I last saw her. If it weren’t for her voice, I would almost assume that she was someone else entirely.

  “What do you want?” I repeated, still staring at her with wide eyes. Was she secret police? Why was she here?!

  Well, your help, frankly.

  My stomach growled, my anger demanding energy that it didn’t have any means to supply. “Why should I help you? Because of you, I lost my dinner and food for today too.”

  Yeah, about that, you wouldn’t want to pickpocket that guy anyway.

  “Oh really, and why is that?”

  Mostly because his brother is one of the sergeants of those police you’re so afraid of.

  My heart practically leapt out of my throat and I just sat there a moment, unable to speak. For some reason, she waited patiently, allowing me to collect my thoughts.

  “How could you possibly know that?”

  She shrugged with a wan smile.

  What can I say? I know things. Side effect of my condition, I suppose.

  “Your condition?”

  It’s a long story. But point being, there’s a group of people coming here that are my friends. They’re a bit strange, but they need you for something, and I can promise once you help them, you’re never going to have to worry about going to bed hungry again.

  Her look was so genuine, and her smile was so comforting, but those were trafficker words if I ever heard them, and if she was a trafficker, there was no way she had come alone, which meant I needed to get out of there ASAP before her henchmen came running in.

  I summoned up as much energy as I could and surged up onto my feet, throwing my blanket over her head to give myself a chance. I was loath to lose my prize possession, but I would do whatever it took to make sure that—

  Oh, this is a nice blanket.

  I skidded to a stop on my mad dash to my window, all oxygen leaving my body in a rush. The woman was just sitting there, completely nonplussed by my action, but maybe that was because the blanket was sitting in a messy pile on the crate right through the middle of her.

  “Y-y-you’re not real,” I sputtered, my brain refusing to believe what was happening in front of it.

  Oh, I am very real. Now, you’re hungry, right? How about I prove it to you?

  “This is insane. I must be insane! I’ve heard of hunger delusions, but this is…insane!”

  Nah, just some sort of freaky, ancient magic that both of us are caught up in.

  I didn’t know what to do. None of my life on the street had prepared me for ghosts. So, I just ran. I tucked my arms back and launched myself out of the cracked window, clattering to the roof below.

  From there, I shimmied down the drainpipe and down to the broken, untended tar that had once been the employee parking lot. I took off, sprinting as hard as I could.

  Only to have her pop up again as I rounded a corner.

  You know, you’re burning through precious calories.

  I spun on my heel, darting the other way. There was an old canal that I could get up and cut across to a landfill then skip right over to the upper-class side of the city where I doubted she could follow me. It was risky, but it was the only way—

  Suddenly, she was right in front of me again, and I backpedaled so hard I landed right on my bum. Scrambling to my feet, I took off, but I could still hear her words. I know I probably should have gone with a more subtle introduction, but is all this really necessary?

  I kept running and running, but every time I thought I might have gotten away, she popped right back up again. I couldn’t fathom what she wanted from me, or why she was so intent on preventing my escape. I just knew that she was incredibly dangerous, and I needed to get away.

  Fast.

  But there was only so far that adrenaline could take me with so little fuel. I felt my body give out, and when she finally appeared at the end of a street, I kind of melted into a heaving puddle of sweaty flesh.

  You’re gonna want to stand up.

  “What do you want from me? Why won’t you leave me alone?!”

  I want you to stand up!

  Something in her voice scared me, and I stumbled onto my feet. Just as I was upright, I heard a terrible boom, followed by a crunching sound, and the next thing I knew, something was hurtling toward me.

  I flinched, throwing my arms up to protect me, but whatever it was landed with a loud thunk in front of me. After a moment, when nothing else happened, I uncurled and looked at whatever missile had been sent my way.

  Except it wasn’t a missile at all. No. It was a box, bent and scuffed, but with a familiar logo on it.

  “T-this is from the butchery!” I cried, in a complete state of shock.

  I know. You’ll find some good stuff in there, but we better get back to your place before someone else snipes it.

  “Did you cause this?”

  Nope, just saw it, and I know a thing or two about taking advantage of certain opportunities when they present themselves. Oh, there’s some jerky in there. You should probably eat that first so you don’t pass out on the way back.

  I stared at her dumbly, my brain refusing to output any directions, and she sighed.

  If you’re expecting me to be able to open it, you’re going to be sorely disappointed. You’ve got about five minutes before someone comes back here, and I don’t think you want to be caught with a couple hundred dollars’ worth of food.

  That, however, seemed to get through to my brain and suddenly I was moving, grabbing the heavy box and hauling it around the corner, where I set it down and opened it up.

  I could almost cry at the sight. There were misshapen packages wrapped in white paper and tied with brown twine, a container of what I assumed was the jerky the ghost woman had mentioned, a jar of pigs’ ears, sausages, the whole works really. And the smell! Oh goodness, the smell. I wasn’t sure how a waterfall didn’t pour out of my mouth right then and there.

  Like a man possessed, I grabbed the container and ripped the top off. Pulling out a strip of one of the smaller bundles on top, I tore into it with relish.

  Meat! Glorious food! When was the last time that I had something so lavish? The Malchev butchery was on the edge of the upper part of town and far above what I could ever hope to afford. Their farm was somewhere off in the country, and supposedly, no one knew how to raise pigs like they did.

  It was so hard not to keep on digging and try to shove everything I c
ould into my mouth, but I knew that I could cause myself a stomach ache or worse with that.

  No, I needed to take my time. I got just enough in me to feel that surge of energy that came with sudden nutrients, then closed it up and started back toward the factory.

  It wasn’t until I was nearly halfway there that I noticed the ghost woman was gone. Had she really just been a hallucination brought on by my extreme hunger? If she was, she was a hallucination that knew exactly when and where I needed to be in order to get more food than I’d had in years.

  Could that be a coincidence? How much was I willing to believe? Maybe my subconscious had picked up information on the butchery’s delivery route and had led me there out of pure desperation? That seemed pretty impossible, but what did I care? The important thing was that I had food!

  I made it back without any more hallucinations or apparitions, and wiggled back into my shed, ready to allow myself another jerky piece.

  I had just barely bitten into one when abruptly the woman was sitting in front of me.

  So, how is it?

  I nearly choked and scuttled backward, but she just rolled her eyes.

  Oh, come on, now you’re just being dramatic. I think I’ve earned you far more than you would have gotten otherwise, even if you don’t believe me about your mark.

  I shook my head, as if I could rattle her out of existence. “Why are you doing this?”

  Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. Look, I just want what’s best for you, and right now, what’s best for you is doing a favor for me.

  “You’re not even real!”

  Well, no, I suppose not in a lot of ways, but that doesn’t really matter. I’m here now, and I need you to help me.

  “Why would I do that when I don’t even know who or what you are?”

  A surprised expression crossed her face. Oh geez, did I skip over the introductions? Let’s try that again then. She stuck out her hand and smiled broadly. What I am is a seer. As for who, the name Davie has worked just fine so far.

  9

  An Unnatural Level of Persistence

  Krisjian

  “What the heck is a seer?”

  Complicated, that’s what.

  I took another bite of jerky, my mind finally seeming to understand that this woman, if she was actually there and not a figment of my starving mind, couldn’t touch me if she wanted to. That definitely gave me some level of comfort, although not much considering the situation.

  “And these friends you want me to help, why don’t you just talk to them yourself?”

  Oh boy, have I tried that. But for some reason I can’t reach them like I’m reaching you.

  “A likely story.”

  She turned her head to the side, giving me an impatient look. What reason would I have to lie to you? I’m already dead. It’s not like monetary or physical gain is on my list of priorities right now.

  The frankness of her words gave me a start, but I managed to hold it in. “You’re dead?”

  As a doornail. Or rather a mystical doornail that’s tied to this inexplicable energy stream that’s connected to everyone and everything throughout all time. I’ve been here for what feels like years and I’m still trying to figure out the basics.

  “Okay, let’s say I believe what you’re saying, and that it actually makes sense. Why on earth would you need someone like me?”

  Oh, well, that part’s simple. You’re a seer too.

  I couldn’t help it. After everything I’d already been through, the chase and the magical box of food and the talking ghost, I just laughed. I laughed for an embarrassingly long time, jerky spittle landing on the ground in front of me.

  To her credit, this ghost lady waited until I was done. Granted, I didn’t know if she could even do anything about it considering that she couldn’t touch anything on my plane of existence.

  “There’s only one problem with that. I’m not a seer.”

  Oh, you’re most definitely a seer.

  “I most definitely am not.”

  Nope. Trust me, I’m not wrong about these kinds of things. Kind of impossible for me to be wrong, in fact.

  “Well, you are, because if I was some mystical seer connected to this energy you talk about, I think I’d know about it.”

  But she just rested her head in her hands, looking more than a bit amused. That’s not necessarily the case. I was in my twenties when I found out. Suddenly, her expression turned more serious. Let me guess, you were raised in a fairly standard, loving house. One might even say that you had a lot of luck as a child, but then something terrible happened one night and your parents died, and you barely made it out alive.

  I stopped chewing, the food in my mouth seeming to turn to dust. Cold licked up my spine and spread to both my neck and shoulders, making my very breath icy.

  “How could you know that?”

  Because it happened to me, and apparently several others. Look, there’s a…a force, I guess you could say, that wants seers like us to be alone and abandoned. To be bitter and full of hate. It often can’t hurt us directly, but it can influence certain events when it comes to our kind.

  You see, people like me and you are pretty powerful when it comes down to it, and we’re worth quite a bit to a lot of people. Any time you have too little commodity and a whole lot of demand, things get violent.

  So, I’m asking you, please go with my friends and help the cycle. I promise you’ll be happier for it.

  I looked at the woman, taking in all of her expression. She certainly looked earnest, and I felt like I could feel her sincerity from where I was sitting.

  But no, it was all too strange! Bizarre! Impossible! Shaking my head, I picked two hunks of the packaged meat out and headed back toward my wormy little exit.

  Wait, what are you doing?

  “I thought you knew everything,” I said, sliding under a fallen chunk of rebar.

  It doesn’t work like that. I don’t see everything, but what I do see, I know everything about.

  “Sounds pretty lame to me.”

  It’s not all peaches and cream.

  “Yeah, I bet not. So, if you don’t mind me, I’ll be going.”

  You know I’m not going to just give up. There’s a whole lot of time in the afterlife and I’ve got that ADD, ya know?

  “Whatever you say. I have friends who are hungry and real, so I’ll be going to them now.”

  I wouldn’t do that if I were you.

  “Why, because some great and terrible beast is going to leap out of the ground and swallow me whole?”

  No. You’ll just see a side of your friends that you wish you didn’t see.

  “Pffft, how typical of a trafficker. Eliminate trust in established relationships to alienate a target.”

  Ah yes, the infamous ghost trafficker. Curses, you saw through my ruse. She stood, and her form started to waver, shifting in the light like dust until she almost wasn’t visible at all. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. When you want me to come save your rear end, just let me know.

  I huffed and finally, the woman disappeared. I stood still a moment, waiting for her to reappear, but I remained alone.

  I needed to get the meat hung up to dry before it spoiled, but first things first, I was going to share my bounty with my friends.

  It was really the least I could do. They had done so much for me since I had been ejected from the hospital, my parent’s estate used up for my care, and I would owe them for the rest of my life.

  It was harder than I expected to hustle through the streets with two large packages of meat hidden on my person. Every step I took, I felt like the secret police were going to pop out and tell me that I was under arrest for stealing. I swore their breath was against my back and their whispers were playing about my ears.

  I felt far too noticeable, as if my hair was dyed as brightly as the ghost that had been turning my life upside-down. Not that I believed in ghosts, but I didn’t really want to be delusional either.

  Perhaps it w
as a little stereotypical, but we did have a place where all of us tended to meet. It was never hit by the police just because of the sheer grossness of it, but its inherent grossness was what stopped us all from staying there permanently.

  I reached the river that basically cut the lower income parts of the city from the higher ones and slid down the muddy bank, the noxious, muck-like soil clinging to the side of my leg. When I landed, I felt the stuff fill my shoes and quickly regretted not taking them off beforehand.

  But discomfort or not, I headed toward the large sewage pipe that was spilling out into the water. Well, perhaps once it had been active enough to constitute spilling, but lately, it was more like a faint trickle.

  I would like to say that was because the wealthy suddenly took issue with our water supply, but in reality, the toxicity of our river was beginning to affect the soil and air quality on the good side of the city, so they had simply taken to dumping elsewhere in the countryside.

  Clambering in, the smell of it really hit me. I hadn’t visited the rat hole, as we called it, in quite some time. Breathing through my mouth, I barely made it down the long length of tunnel into the nearly empty reservoir.

  That is, nearly empty of sewage, but quite full of many other things. Hammocks, grills, bedding, clothes, a few toys, some weapons, and more importantly, about five or so of my friends.

  But no Rafjan. I hoped he was alright.

  Odd, why would that thought come to mind? Sure, he’d been doing a little moonlighting after dark, but that was no reason to get paranoid.

  “Look who it is! Little Krisjian. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you. If it weren’t for Rafjan, we’d think you dead.”

  I looked to the owner of the voice to see Varista. She was a bit shorter than me, but she was the type of person who looked like they were cut out of pure muscle. The girl had been weathered and cured by the streets until there was nothing left of her but sinew and a whole bunch of spite.