by Alex Archer
Tom was quiet and Annja kept going. "How many boyfriends has she had?"
"I don't know."
"Probably not many," Annja said. "And probably because you scared them all away, didn't you?"
"Not necessarily. A lot of the ones who came nosing around were losers who didn't mean to do anything, except get in her pants."
"So what business is it of yours what she chooses to do and with whom? We all need to make our own mistakes," Annja said.
"Not my sister. She doesn't need to make mistakes. I've made enough of them for both of us."
Annja smirked. "I'm sure you have. But that doesn't mean there hasn't been an incredible reservoir of resentment building up within Sheila's heart. She probably hasn't voiced it to you yet, but then there's what happened tonight. And your actions back at the hotel might just cause the dam to break, releasing all of that pent-up emotion. Anger. Hatred, even."
"My sister doesn't hate me."
They'd reached the truck and Annja set the package down on top of the others. She looked at Tom. "Look, you don't have to listen to me. That's cool. But if I were you, I'd watch my back really carefully these next few days. Sheila's a volcano about to explode, and if you're in the path of her destruction you're toast, pal."
Tom frowned. "Are you finished analyzing my life?"
Annja shrugged. "Like I said, take it or leave it. Makes no difference to me. I'll be dead."
Tom smiled. "That you will."
Annja eyed him. "Not even going to attempt to lie to me about the possibility of getting out of this with my life, are you?"
"Nope. Call it a sign of respect. You don't buy my bullshit, anyway. No sense in pretending about tonight's outcome."
Annja nodded. "I suppose I should thank you for that."
"Yeah, why's that?"
Annja smiled. "It just makes everything that much clearer. That's all."
Tom nodded toward the pine trees. "You've still got a lot of carrying to do. Let's get back."
"How will you know where to meet these people that you do business with?"
Tom patted his shirt pocket. "Got the map and directions right here. It's just a short skip down the old interstate. It's always nice driving into the city, anyway. We do the drop and then Sheila and I continue on to our new home."
"So you say." Annja started walking away from the truck. She stumbled once on some loose rock.
She heard Tom snicker behind her. "Careful there. Wouldn't want you to get hurt and have to struggle through the pain."
Annja closed her eyes and saw the sword hanging there, ready to draw out at a moment's notice. She wanted to wrap her hands around it right now, but the time wasn't right.
Not yet.
She continued walking down the trail. The rain had increased and now the steady shower coated everything. The ground grew muddy underfoot. Annja would have to remember to watch her footing or she'd risk a fall in the mud.
"I'm going to miss this place," Tom said suddenly from behind her.
"So why don't you stay and turn yourself in?"
He laughed. "Prison's not an option for me."
Annja nodded. "Yeah, I think that way about death, too."
"Death's inevitable," Tom said. "The only question is when we're all going to go."
"Don't tell me you're philosophical about the murders you commit."
"Whatever helps keep the demons at bay," Tom said.
"I suppose you're right," Annja said. "It is all just a big question of when, isn't it?"
"Yep."
She glanced back at him. "And if we knew the when of it all, I wonder if we'd live our lives any differently than we have to this point?"
Tom shook his head. "I wouldn't. I'm pretty happy with how things have turned out so far."
"You should see it from my perspective," Annja said.
"No, thanks. I prefer my viewpoint. You know, it's the one with the big nasty shotgun and all. The view's much nicer back here."
Annja shrugged. "Oh, I don't know about that."
"Why?"
Annja dropped suddenly to one knee and pivoted, sweeping one of her legs out and back at Tom's legs.
She caught him at just the right moment as his full body weight was coming down onto his right leg. She swept the leg and he toppled backward, falling into the mud.
Annja was up instantly. She summoned the sword and charged.
Tom saw the sword coming for him and swept the shotgun up, trying to get a shot at Annja.
He was too slow and Annja cut across the barrel and heard the sharp clang as the sword blade bit through the barrel and the stock. The force of the impact knocked the shotgun out of Tom's hands and sent it skittering across the rocks and gravel until it came to rest under a tree.
But Tom didn't stop moving and Annja marveled at his speed as he rolled off the ground and came up, kicking out at her face.
Annja ducked under the kick and tried to cut at Tom's leg but he retracted it quickly and retreated some distance away.
Annja charged again, leaping into the air. She brought the sword high overhead, trying to cleave Tom in two as she came down.
But Tom threw a handful of gravel into her face and she swore as the tiny stones and dirt clouded her vision and stung her eyes.
She swung the sword wildly but missed. Then she felt a thundering side kick explode into her rib cage. She heard a snap and then her lung heaved as she fought to grab a breath. Tom's kick must have broken several ribs.
Annja swung the sword back, trying to catch Tom's leg. She felt the blade bite into something but then the sensation was gone.
Annja wiped her free hand across her face, desperate to get the gravel out of her eyes. Tears streamed down her face, clouding her vision. If she didn't clear her eyesight, Tom would go for his gun and shoot her before she could finish the job.
Another kick thundered into her opposite side and this time it was all Annja could do to keep from dropping the sword and collapsing in pain.
I hope Jenny's having better luck with Sheila, she thought.
Annja cut back again, trying to find a target. She heard Tom laugh. "Can't hit what you can't see."
Annja held the blade in front of her. The blindness worked against her and she couldn't find Tom in the rain and darkness.
A sound reached her ears.
He's going to the gun.
She had one chance.
She flipped the sword over and heaved it like a javelin. She heard the blade hiss through the air.
At the same time, a single gunshot tore through the night.
Chapter 36
Annja wiped the grit from her face. Her hand came away moist with the tears that had been trying to flush her eyes. And then her vision finally cleared and she could see at last.
Tom's body lay in a crumpled heap about fifteen feet away, a pool of blood staining the ground beneath him. Annja's sword jutted out of the tree trunk nearby.
"I missed," she said, confused.
"I didn't," a voice said from behind her.
She turned and saw Jenny standing there with David's gun in her hands.
Annja smiled weakly. "Great timing."
Jenny nodded. "Well, life has always been about timing, hasn't it? You just have to know when to do the things you need to do."
Annja got to her feet. "The bastard threw sand into my face. It got into my eyes and I couldn't see a thing."
"You okay now?"
Annja wiped her face on her sleeve some more. "I think so."
"He might have killed you," Jenny said.
Annja looked at Tom. There was a neat hole in the center of his forehead. "You made an incredible shot for someone who's never used a gun before."
"What makes you think I've never used a gun?" Jenny asked.
Annja shrugged. "I just thought you hadn't. You never seemed comfortable around them."
"Well, not when Tom was aiming that huge cannon at us from the front seat of his truck. I don't think anyone would be c
ool in that situation. Except maybe for the great Annja Creed."
Annja shook her head. "I'm not great." She checked Tom's pulse but he was already dead. "What did you do with Sheila?"
Jenny pointed over her shoulder. "Back at the cave. I broke her neck."
"How'd you manage that?"
Jenny grinned. "Just a little trick I picked up along the road of life. A single woman needs to know how to take care of herself. Nothing to it, really. You just step up, elbow them in the face and then loop your arm and—"
Annja held up her hand. "I get it."
Jenny smiled. "So they're both out of the way now. At last."
"That means we can get the hell out of here," Annja said. "I'm buying the first drink at the airport."
But Jenny wasn't smiling anymore. "What about the bodies?"
Annja glanced back. The thought of cleaning up two more corpses was appalling. But she couldn't just leave them where they were. They'd get ravaged by the forest animals. And if they didn't explain themselves to the police—the real police—there was a chance they'd be implicated in some type of murder charge.
Jenny was right. They had to clean things up.
"Where did David say the nearest state cops were? An hour away or something like that?"
Jenny nodded. "Yeah."
"I guess we should call them, huh? At least when we get back to town and talk to Ellen."
"And what about the other stuff?"
"The drugs?" Annja shrugged. "Beats me. The cops'll take it, I guess. That's their thing. I sure don't want anything to do with it."
"It's worth a lot of money, though, isn't it?"
Annja nodded. "Probably worth millions on the street."
"They were planning on heading down to South America, weren't they? Someplace where they could set up shop without the fear of being extradited back to the U.S. That's quite a plan for them."
Annja brushed her knees. "Yeah, well, their plans are ruined now. Just goes to prove that you can't stop the forces of good." She glanced up. "That'd be you and me."
Jenny smiled. "Yeah, I got it."
Annja looked at her sword sticking out of the tree and then smiled back at Jenny. "I guess I'd better yank that thing out of there, huh? Can't leave it like that for some innocent person to stumble over. That'd be messy."
Annja started to walk over to the tree and then heard the sound of a hammer being pulled back on a gun. "Don't do that."
She turned. "What are you doing?"
Jenny held the gun aimed at Annja. "I'm finally taking control of my life. That's what."
"By shooting me?"
"I don't want to have to do that," Jenny said. "But that sword is far too dangerous. I can't let you get it back in your hands or you'll use it on me."
"Why would I do that?"
Jenny sneered. "Because you're Miss Goody-Goody. There's no way you're going to let me walk out of here with those drugs. You'll try to stop me. And I'm done with people imposing themselves on my personal destiny."
Annja frowned. "You think those drugs are your destiny? Don't be ridiculous. You've already got a great life."
"I don't have a life," Jenny said. "I have an existence. And it's a meager one at that. I've got no real career path other than making tenure at some university no one even cares about. My romantic world is a sham. I'm struggling to make ends meet on my crappy salary and I'm a miserable wreck."
Annja frowned. "If you need money, I'll loan you some to get you back on your feet."
"It's not just about the money. Can't you see that? I'm tired. So tired. Of everything. The daily struggle to survive. And it's all based on the hope that one day things will finally get better. Well, when do they get better? I'm not a young girl anymore. The world isn't my oyster. Hell, it never was my oyster. All it ever turned out to be was a big pile of crap. And I'm sick of it, Annja. "
"And you think this is the answer to your problems? Stealing drugs and then selling them and taking the money to go run off somewhere and live like the spoiled princess you've always wanted to be?"
"Being spoiled has nothing to do with it."
Annja sat down on the ground. "You think your life is tough, Jenny? You should try seeing things from my side of the coin. I don't have any family. I don't have many close friends aside from folks like you."
"Yeah, but you've got a career in television. That's got to count for something. Lots of fans and all that."
"I don't have many fans. The coanchor on that show gets more fan mail in a day than I do all year. And it's all because she lost her top once during filming. You think I want to sacrifice my journalistic integrity for some pieces of mail? And yet that's the world we live in these days."
"You're paid well, at least."
"Sure. The money's nice. But it doesn't make all the loneliness go away when it's just me alone in my bed at night." Annja shook her head. "You think I have the life, don't you? That all of this travel is a great adventure for me."
"Isn't it?"
"No, it's not. Did you ever wonder why I spend so much of my time traipsing around the world?"
Jenny shrugged. "It's pretty obvious, isn't it? You love what you do. The quest for relics and all that stuff. It's your obsession."
"Yeah, it's my obsession." Annja sighed. "That's only part of the story, Jenny. The other part is that I am so scared of ever settling down and committing myself to one thing, one person, one ideal, that I run away from anything that even remotely looks as if it could be a solid foundation in my life. And I run right toward danger and anything else that looks as volatile as nitroglycerin."
"If that's the case, then why did that sword choose you to be its holder and caretaker?"
"Isn't it obvious? It knows I'll never stop running toward the bad guys. That there will always be a chance for me to fight and use it for the powers of good. Of course it chose me. The last thing that sword would ever want was someone with a regular job, a spouse and two kids at home. Can you imagine that? It would never get used."
"And presumably evil would triumph," Jenny said.
"That's my guess."
Jenny shrugged. "All right, so you've got a crappy life, too. Why don't you change it?"
"Who says I can?"
"I do."
Annja smiled. "Yeah, I wish it was that easy. It's not. The same powers that brought this sword to me will make sure that I never have a moment's rest as long as I try to avoid my destiny and that of this sword."
Jenny sighed. "I wish I could take it from you."
"Don't say that. You don't want this thing. I don't even know if I want this thing."
Jenny lowered the gun. "I don't want to hurt you, Annja."
"You don't have to hurt me. But you don't have to take those drugs, either. There's always a better way."
"Is there? I've heard people tell me that all the time. And I never seem to find it. People say to have faith and yet my faith is never rewarded. I've prayed to every deity I can think of. I've prayed to every ancestor in my family. I don't ask for much. Just a little bit. And yet, time after time, there's no help from beyond. No help from those who are supposed to have the power to help us."
"I know what you mean."
Jenny frowned. "And then every day I hear stories of people who are bad, unjust or evil who are living a great life. Criminals with more money than God. Women falling all over themselves to be with them. Even law-abiding people who are frugal, cheap bastards and would never give a dime to charity. Even they have the life."
Annja nodded. She'd seen it enough times to know that Jenny spoke the truth. Her friend took a stuttering breath and then continued.
"So when does it all end, Annja? When do I get the rewards of living an honest, hard-working life? When do I wake up and see that all the struggle has been worth the pain and agony that I've endured? When?"
"Maybe tomorrow. Maybe never," Annja said.
"I'm tired of the maybes. I'm tired of saying to myself, 'tomorrow's going to be the day this
all gets taken care of.' I'm tired of wishing so hard that I make my head hurt. And I'm tired of the endless disappointment."
"I don't know what to tell you, Jenny." Annja shook her head. "I wish I had the power to make all your pain go away. But I don't. None of us do."