Water's Threshold

Home > Other > Water's Threshold > Page 2
Water's Threshold Page 2

by Jillian Jacobs


  Someone had found her secluded spring—someone who meant her harm.

  Only two people triggered this tempest within her body. Apparently, her night of fighting scourges wasn’t over. Maya transformed into a misty cloud and floated just above the spring’s surface, where the steam re-hydrated her.

  A great gust of wind struck, attempting to force her into the water. She fought the subtle nudge to take the easy escape.

  Changing back to her human form, she let the breeze lower her, rolling with the wind’s energy so she landed on the shore. A stark laugh across the morning quiet made Maya turn to face the intruder.

  A woman watched her—Pillar, salt of the earth. Her white-blonde hair shone bright against the gray glow of pre-dawn. A sneer marred her beautiful face. A forceful gale beat against her, which billowed her hair and dress around her body.

  “Oh come now, Nodin. I was just seasoning the water. It’s so bland.” Pillar’s raspy laugh echoed in the air, and then her body transformed into a white whirlwind.

  Salt particles beat against Maya’s skin before a violent wind knocked Pillar off course. Maya stepped back as the salty funnel twisted with the wind, their forms dancing back and forth. The erotic tango ended when the shot of white salt separated and travelled alone into the lightening sky.

  Maya stood by the spring’s edge as the breeze died down and a man formed out of the air by her side—Nodin. He had the same symbiotic relationship with air as she did with the water. Together with Flint, who was fire, they represented the Elementals. Mother Nature had bestowed upon them “the gleaning,” which was the ability to read and compel minds. They used their elemental abilities to protect the Earth and its people.

  Nodin spent most days in the Plains States, like Nebraska and Kansas. Mother split them up and sent them where the need was strongest. Prior to coming here, Maya had lived in California. She hadn’t seen Nodin in months. Six months had passed since she’d seen Flint.

  “Are you all right?” Nodin wrapped his hands around her shoulders. His sky blue eyes assessed her, and an airy breeze floated through her consciousness.

  An elemental connection linked their minds, although they allowed each other as much privacy as possible, no distance was too great for them to communicate. With a single distress call sent across Earth’s frequencies, either Nodin or Flint would appear.

  Comforting thought.

  Maya gleaned conflicting emotions stirring within Nodin, battering his mind. A cool breeze floated across her face and reassured her. Nodin put others first, seeing to her comfort while he suffered an inner turmoil—a sadness brought on by Pillar and love lost.

  He rested his forehead against hers.

  Maya took his face in her hands and lightly kissed him. “It’s good to see you.” She left his embrace and pulled out a waterproof bag she kept hidden in a small gap between two rocks. Shaking out her shirt, she pulled it over her head. “Where have you been?”

  “I go wherever the wind takes me.”

  “Still using the same joke, I see.”

  “It’s a good joke.” He shrugged.

  “I would say it’s more of a truth, Nodin.”

  As she buttoned her jeans, she scrutinized him. He looked as he had months ago—a perk of being peri-mortal. Jet-black hair fell straight past his square jaw. His deep-bronzed skin accentuated his whipcord-lean body. His clear blue eyes always stood in stark contrast to his Native American coloring.

  Drifting a few steps away, he looked off into the distance. His gaze trailing the path the salty, white swirl had taken. “Pillar’s been causing trouble again.”

  “That salty Schickster, I wish you wouldn’t hold out hope. She tried to dehydrate me. Again.” Maya sighed when he didn’t reply. “You’ve been keeping track of her?”

  “At times.”

  Maya sank down on a boulder and whipped her socks out of her bag. “I have one word Pillar would do well not to forget—deliquescence. Ms. Saltypants can only absorb so much water before dissolving herself.” She stood and shoved her feet into her tennis shoes. “Perhaps Pillar should’ve taken a chemistry class at some point in her over-seasoned existence.”

  Nodin shared a past with Pillar. Maya had never asked for details, as he wasn’t one to share his feelings. He tended more toward philosophical conversations. Flint, however, had filled her in on the more pertinent details. Pillar had lived for centuries as the personification of the salt of the Earth. Nodin received his gifts at a time long before the Europeans invaded America. Pillar found a partner in Nodin, and they fought side by side. Then something came between them, creating a distance, like the snap of a kite string on a windy day.

  Pillar turned to the opposite of all light—Quintessence, the fifth element, or Aether, as he was known in ancient Greece and India. Maya only knew him as Quint.

  Over eons, Quint had evolved from dark matter into the lecherous being he now used to exist as a living, breathing human. Together, Quint and Pillar haunted the Earth, intent on destroying all the Elementals held dear.

  If both Pillar and Quint were here, perhaps that would explain Maya’s strange sense of foreboding. Her last encounter with Quint had not ended well.

  Pillar had launched her first attack tonight. Had Nodin not interfered, the battle between her and that salty square would still be raging. Maya did not harbor the same feelings of restraint as Nodin.

  Stretching both arms above her head, Maya asked, “Do you plan to bunk with me tonight?”

  “No, I made other arrangements.” Nodin avoided eye contact.

  Who is the lucky girl in his bed tonight?

  Nodin took comfort where and when he could in an existence decades longer than her own. At times, Maya had done the same. Developing lasting relationships only meant watching them die. She lived a lonely life and when Flint or Nodin appeared, she tried not to hold on too tightly.

  Rocking back on her heels, she shrugged. “Will you be around for a while?”

  “I’m heading east tonight, but I’ll be back in a day or two.”

  Maya nodded and wandered over to her faded green, three-speed bike leaning against a boulder. A strong breeze fingered through her hair then whipped into the sky—Nodin’s form of farewell. The leaves of aspen and cottonwood trees rustled as he blew past.

  Not surprising, Nodin had other sleeping arrangements. Never allowing close relationships—a remnant of his time with Pillar, perhaps.

  Hopping on her bike, Maya took a worn path through the trees, headed toward town, and thought of the scientist. A question surfaced as the bright band of the dawn lit the horizon. Could Terran, for a short time, be a beacon on the shore in her endless sea of life?

  Chapter 2

  Quint observed the fit and cut of Crowder’s Brooks Brothers suit. While no Gieves & Hawkes, it would do for a time.

  The research he’d ordered Pillar to gather on Carlyle Crowder proved correct. Crowder possessed a fit frame for his age, which must be somewhere south of sixty. He had earned his iron gray hair by handling the day-to-day business of ranching and oil reserves on his holdings in Wyoming and Texas.

  Quint studied the books on the rancher’s shelf. Crowder’s endless drone and condescending manner needled against his nerves. Pulling an astronomy book from the shelf, he feigned interest as he flipped through the ridiculous book passing for science.

  “I asked you here today because I understand, sir, that you are a ‘Fixer.’ We’ve tried to resolve this situation on our own, but it’s reached a point where we need containment.” Crowder fidgeted with his collar. “That Forrester kid found a half-burnt cow that wolves had dragged off the property. I’ve tried to assure everyone there’s no cause for alarm, but the Conservancy is demanding access.”

  Crowder’s ranch sat at the top of the Snake River by Morgan Junction. His land covered an area above Grand Teton National Park on the northeast side.

  Crowder leaned back in his chair and snipped off the end of his cigar. “The disease is spreading. W
e’re using an experimental vaccine from a start-up Seattle drug company, but it hasn’t helped the animals already infected. I don’t want every federal agency and fucking green-thumbed hippy crawling over my land, burning down everything I’ve built. We’ve separated the ones with the bacteria, and we’ll burn them off as needed.”

  “This disease isn’t caused by a bacteria.” Quint folded both arms across his chest as he leaned against the bookcase. “It’s a prion, a misfolded protein. In this form, it’s known as Bovine Spongiform Encephalopathy or BSE for short. Don’t want to scare anyone with Mad Cow, so let’s stick with BSE, shall we? You do know it can’t be cured?” Raising a perfectly sculpted brow, he continued, “You will most likely have to burn the majority of your stock.”

  “Don’t worry, we haven’t sent any cattle to the slaughterhouse. We have a contact at the drug company who, as I said, gave us access to their vaccine. This wonder drug is supposed to erase the protein in animals that have the potential to develop Mad Cow.”

  Quint’s host explained that the Conservancy would expect him to take samples to a USDA-approved state veterinary diagnostic lab. Crowder expected “the Fixer” to contain the problem before it got to that stage.

  With a swipe of his hand, Quint cut off Crowder and pinned him with a cold, black-eyed stare. “My name is Quint. I do not suggest using the moniker, ‘The Fixer,’ again, as it’s starting to grate like fingernails across a chalkboard. Do you recall this sound? No? Then let me remind you.”

  Quint created a screeching echo that reverberated through the rancher’s head.

  Crowder cringed and clasped his hands over his ears.

  “Irritating, isn’t it?” Quint smirked. “How old are you?”

  Crowder pulled his shaking hands from his ears. Blood spotted his palms. His face turned ashen as he observed the damage. “What have you done? I didn’t bring you here so you could play these magician’s games.” His voice rose and he turned his head from side-to-side, looking for the source of the sound invading his mind. He came around his desk and jabbed a finger against Quint’s chest. “I want to know what you plan to do to fix this problem. That’s why you’re here. I’m paying you a lot of money to handle this situation.”

  Quint stepped away from the sputtering fool, sat in a leather chair placed in front of the desk, and surveyed his manicure. “I find your threats quite entertaining. I’m surprised you didn’t stomp your foot while you were at it.”

  Crowder stammered, “You, sir—”

  “Quiet now.” Quint silenced him, no longer amused.

  Crowder clutched his throat, a slight cry squeaking from his wide-open mouth. His face turned beet red as he stepped toward Quint.

  With a not-so-gentle mental nudge, Quint used his powers to compel his host’s mind. “Sit down. It’s time to explain your situation.”

  Crowder crumpled into the accompanying chair, hand at his throat, eyes wide as he stared at Quint.

  “I will fix this problem for you, Crowder. Although not in the way you may wish. You see, I must take on many different personas to accomplish my goals. I could stay as I am for a few more months, but I tire of looking at the same face day after day and signs of strain are beginning to appear.” He sniffed and straightened the cuff of his jacket. “Plus, I find your position, and of course, the fact you’re worth millions, extremely appealing. Your status in life is conducive with my future plans.” Quint sighed and reached into his jacket pocket for his vibrating phone.

  Interruptions during playtime irritated.

  He read the text then took his time responding.

  Attention once more on Crowder, he inquired, “Do you know what dark matter is? No one really does. Does it repel or is it a gravitational force? Never seen, never detected. You see, Crowder, I cannot exist without coming here and grasping what I can of this world, of its people. I stay on this plane to be acknowledged. To live. You humans act as if you are the center of the universe, but you don’t even make up five percent.”

  Quint laughed upon detecting a pitiful wave of resistant energy flowing from Crowder as he tried to escape the dark prison of mental and physical control.

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, Quint continued, “And yet I have to debase myself with humans in order to breathe. I suffer to endure your skin. I find regular human hosts aren’t enough, but I’m getting there. Very soon, I’ll have the one who can sustain me forever. No longer will I have to feed off weak tits like you.”

  Crowder released a deep breath, his face a mottled red. He spit out, “What—what are you?” He shuffled to his feet and sidled toward his shotgun cabinet.

  Quint scoffed and prodded against Crowder’s mind, halting his forward motion toward his arsenal.

  “Foolish human, you think something as simple as buckshot can end me after what I’ve just done to your body? Now, do you want my help or not?” Unwinding from the chair, Quint moved to stand between a stone-still Crowder and his vast assortment of rifles.

  His host’s gaze flickered toward the gun case.

  Quint didn’t allow movement, but since doing so amused, he’d grant Crowder a few final words. “Was there something you wished to say? Make it interesting as they’re your final words.”

  Crowder ground out, “I think you should leave. I won’t be recommending you to anyone else. I don’t know your game, but—”

  “That’s all right, because I know it quite well.” Grasping Crowder’s arm, Quint pulled him closer. “This may hurt a little.” While stretching his mouth wide over his host’s lips, Quint transferred his essence.

  Crowder’s eyes turned inky black as dark matter coursed through his body. His horrific scream was unable to bypass the murky essence creeping into every corner of his being. A single tear fell from his eye as a veil crashed and extinguished his existence.

  Quint stored all of Crowder’s memories in order to maintain the identity. His former host body—the Fixer, a thirty-year-old private investigator from California—slowly deflated. The energy of his life force converted into a tiny orb of mass, which contracted, and then exploded into the air. The blast’s force rocketed a chair across the room, shattered frames, and knocked books off shelves.

  Running a hand along the custom-built Parnian desk, Quint shook his head at the ease with which he took over their lives. Just once, he wished for a challenge, a struggle before the shades were drawn and the lights went out.

  Quint considered the available options as he sat on his new leather throne. The rancher’s financial position would further his newly established drug company, Aether Pharmaceuticals. They were on the cusp of performing “miracles” with their newest vaccine. Once the prion spread, only Aether would have the drug to erase the effects. Quite the profitable endeavor. Especially since his dark matter only masked the prion’s presence, but did not erase it.

  His reverie was interrupted when Pillar stepped into his office without first obtaining permission. She surveyed the damaged room and picked up a fallen tome then shook her head at Quint’s new appearance. “Couldn’t wait, I see.”

  “I wasn’t aware I had to notify you of my timeline, Pillar.” After shuffling through papers strewn across the desk, he met her gaze. “Is he here?”

  Holding the book against her chest, Pillar nodded.

  “Good. I’ll make use of him soon. You found Maya’s spring?”

  “Yes. Nodin is in the area, as well.”

  “Looking to add a little salt to his soufflé, are you?” Quint laughed as Pillar shoved the book back on the shelf. “Forget the wind whip for now. First, we’ll handle the water wench.”

  Chapter 3

  Terran tapped a finger against his steering wheel while driving to a Snake River outlet stream. The slithering river veered away from the main body only to wrap back around and rejoin its journey south. He checked his rearview mirror, very concerned that Crowder’s ranch hands would come upon him investigating the area where he’d first discovered the cow carcass. And yet, the consequenc
es of discovery were far less critical than determining how far the BSE contamination had spread from point zero—Crowder Ranch.

  His plan involved catching a few channel catfish, taking brain tissue samples, and performing an initial rapid test for BSE. If the results were inconclusive, he’d send the samples to the National Veterinary Services Laboratories and the National Animal Disease Center. Since Terran had never known of a prion strain to present in an aquatic species before, he reveled in the opportunity to make a new discovery.

  Terran walked a fine line after a key Conservancy donor had called a board member two days ago and suggested his team focus on other projects. This served as a not-so-subtle reminder that Carlyle Crowder had influential friends. Big money trumped all, even at the Conservancy, which subsisted primarily on grants and fundraisers. With any threat to their financial foundation, the board panicked and threw up roadblocks.

  Since hard rock music better suited his mood, he punched the pre-set radio button and changed the station. Board members and businessmen would not undermine his focus. Crowder’s practices were wrong—end of discussion.

  After calling in sick this morning, Terran had loaded up the supplies necessary to gather proof in support of his theory. Three weeks prior, while taking water samples for another project, Terran had come upon wolves dragging a half-seared cow across this stream. A warning shot fired from his rifle scared off the scavengers. The stench exuding from the carcass overwhelmed him to the point that he retrieved a T-shirt from his truck and tied it around his nose and mouth. After almost retching, his anger further erupted at Crowder’s blatant disregard of a creature that, in essence, lined his pockets with cash.

  Shocked at the audacity of Crowder bypassing proper disposal laws, Terran took samples from the cow’s slightly charred brain, knowing even before testing what he would find. Crowder’s ranch was experiencing an outbreak of BSE. Why else would he take his cattle to a secluded area and have them burned?

 

‹ Prev