The Soul Stealer

by Alex Archer

  Bob chuckled. “I always get a kick out of hearing you dismantle potential lovers.”

  “I’m not dismantling anyone.”

  “Okay.”

  She looked at him. “You want the truth? I was starting to like him, okay? But now I don’t know what to think.”

  “Doesn’t seem like there’s much to think about. If Dzerchenko is right about what he plans to do, then Gregor is pretty much finished, anyway. That, I believe, removes all the pressure from you,” Bob said.

  “Yeah, but I’ve still got to face the idea that I might have to kill him.”

  “First and foremost, it would appear that we need to figure out how to get you free,” Bob said.

  Annja flexed her wrists again. “I’m tied down too tight.” She knew she couldn’t draw the sword with her hands bound. Even if she could, her wrists were braced so stiffly that the sword wouldn’t be able to cut the restraints.

  “That’s a problem,” Bob said.

  “A big one.” Annja leaned back against the board and chewed her lip for a moment. There had to be something she could do to draw the sword and somehow use it to free herself.

  “What about your feet?”

  “What about them?” she asked.

  “Are they tied as tightly as your hands?”

  Annja tried moving her feet. There was a bit more give to the bonds, but she didn’t think it was enough to free herself.

  “I don’t think there’s anything I can do there, either.”

  “Just a thought,” Bob said.

  Annja nodded. “Keep thinking. It’s the only hope we have of staying alive. And I don’t intend to lose you so soon after I got you back.”

  Bob smiled. “Thanks. I’m glad I asked you to come along on the trip. I’d say I chose wisely.”

  “Save it,” Annja said. “We’re not free yet. And I hate premature praise. Once we get out of here, you can uncork the bubbly.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Annja took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She needed an idea. A solution to the problem they faced. Somehow, somewhere inside of her, there had to be a way to get to the sword and use it even though she was restrained.

  Something.

  Her mind swam as images flooded her consciousness. She could see the sword cutting her bonds. She could visualize it in the air doing what she needed it to do. She could imagine her being free and able to rescue Bob.

  But how?

  Her eyes snapped open.

  It was a crazy thought.

  But what other options did she have?

  “You thought of something?”

  She looked at Bob. “A long shot.”

  He smiled. “Long odds are what we’re all about right now. I’d say take a stab at anything and hope for the best.”

  Annja nodded. “That’s just what we’ll be doing.”

  “What’s the idea?”

  Annja smiled. “Ever hear of telekinesis?”

  Bob nodded. “Sure, I don’t think there’s a guy alive who never wished for the ability to move objects with his mind. If only to blow up skirts on women as they walked by.”

  Annja smirked. “Well, aside from your pubescent fantasies, there’s been some groundbreaking research done on it in the past. The Soviets did a lot of research into it during the Cold War.”

  Bob sniffed. “Maybe you should ask Dr. Nutjob in there if he was on the committee. He might be able to give you some pointers.”

  Annja sighed. “Just close your eyes and focus all your energy on escape. I’m going to try and loosen my bonds.”

  I want to draw the sword out with my mind and see if I can wield it that way. For a limited time only, just long enough to cut me loose. Then I’ll use it with my hands again like I always do, Annja thought.

  Bob’s eyebrows jumped. “Wow, that would be amazing.”

  “Wouldn’t it, though?”

  “You think you can do it?”

  “I don’t know. I guess it depends on how well we visualize it.”

  Bob nodded. “Well, good luck.”

  “Thanks.” Annja closed her eyes.

  “Annja?”

  She opened her eyes. “Yes?”

  “I don’t mean to put any more pressure on you than you already have, but, uh, we’re under a deadline here,” Bob said.

  Annja grinned. “Thanks for the reminder.”

  “Just doing my part.”

  “Now shut up, Bob.”

  “Okay.”

  Annja closed her eyes again. Her thoughts seemed jumbled and fuzzy, as if she were fighting to clear them. Annja frowned. What was wrong? She could usually picture the sword immediately and then draw it out. It had always worked like that in the past. Ready at a moment’s notice.

  But now it was a jumbled mess in her mind. She couldn’t see clearly at all.

  Annja opened her eyes. “I can’t make out anything in my mind. It’s like there’s all this interference or something. My thoughts are a mess. They’re jumbled and confused.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “That’s not good at all,” Annja said. “If I can’t think clearly, we’re both dead.”

  Bob sighed. “Any chance you can force yourself to think clearly?”

  “I wouldn’t know how.”

  The door opened again and Dzerchenko came into the room. He smiled at Annja. “How are you doing, my dear?”

  Annja didn’t respond.

  Dzerchenko held up a vial of liquid. “You see this? It’s a mild pharmacological drug that I sometimes use on my patients.”

  “What’s it do?” Annja asked, alarmed.

  Dzerchenko shrugged. “Oh, nothing much. But in your case probably plenty. You see, I gave you some earlier after I knocked you out.” He leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “It interrupts your thought patterns. In other words, it makes it very hard to concentrate on anything. That, I’d be willing to guess, includes your ability to summon the sword Gregor told me about.”

  Annja glared at him in shock. “You’d be surprised what I’m capable of doing.”

  “I would be surprised,” Dzerchenko said, “if you had the ability to suppress the effects of my special concoction.” He glanced at his watch. “You’ve got about thirty minutes left, anyway. And then, I believe all bets are off.”

  He turned and left the room.

  Annja let out her breath and closed her eyes.

  Thirty minutes wasn’t a lot of time at all.

  30

  “Was he right?”

  Annja nodded. “I think so. My mind’s a mess right now. I can’t seem to make heads or tails out of anything.”

  “How strong do you think the drug was that he gave you?”

  “I don’t know. I guess plenty.” Annja frowned.

  “There’s got to be a way to fight it, though. I just don’t know how.”

  “What about if you concentrate really hard?”

  Annja looked at Bob. “Don’t give up hope,” she said. “I’ll try to think of something.” But it was easier said than done, and Annja knew it. She closed her eyes and watched the mishmash of images and thoughts and emotions come flying at her randomly. She tried to direct her thoughts, but found she was completely unable to focus for long on even the smallest thing.

  She exhaled a long breath and tried to relax her muscles. Even though she had pins and needles firing off in her arms and legs, Annja kept breathing.

  “I’m going to try something,” she said to Bob. “So please be quiet and don’t interrupt. Okay?”

  “You got it. I’ll just sit here all quiet like.”

  “Thanks.”

  Annja kept her eyes closed and started breathing deeply. She inhaled long and slow and exhaled in the same manner. After a minute of this, she started counting her breaths. She reached ten and would start all over again at one. Each time she completed a series of breaths, she felt more relaxed.

  I could fall asleep here, she thought.

  But she redirected herself ba
ck to counting breaths. She was surprised at how difficult it could be. Every time she started counting, her mind wanted to wander away and think of crazy things. She had to bring it back into line and force herself to count the breaths. She could feel her muscles relaxing even more. She kept breathing.

  And she kept counting.

  Annja could see the fog in her mind and it looked like gray, bloated rain clouds hanging in the sky. She kept breathing and counting, hoping that the clouds would part and the blue sky of her clear mind would shine through.

  Annja’s chest rose and fell as she breathed in and out. The pins and needles in her arms and legs started to fade away as she continued her metronomic respirations. All she had to do was think about breathing and counting.

  That was all.

  Annja reached a ten-count again and redirected herself back to one. Long inhale and long exhale. All the stress and tension would melt away.

  On the next series, Annja felt her heartbeat kick up a notch.

  What’s going on? she wondered.

  She kept breathing and counting. Her heartbeat continued to increase. She kept breathing and counting. She reached ten quicker and quicker, always going back to one.

  Over and over again.

  Sweat broke out and ran down her face. Her entire body felt awakened instead of relaxed, as if she’d unlocked some powerful reservoir of hidden energy. Annja kept breathing and counting.

  She could feel her wet skin brushing against her clothes. And still her heart kept beating faster and faster and she kept breathing and counting.

  Annja’s eyes popped open with a sudden gasp.

  “You okay?”

  She could hear the concern in Bob’s voice. She looked over at him. “I don’t know.”

  “You look like hell.”

  “I do?”

  “You’re pale as a ghost. And you’re soaked through with sweat. I was watching you. Your chest heaved like a bellows, for crying out loud. I thought your heart was going to jump out of your chest.”

  “Makes two of us,” Annja said. “I knew I was sweating, but I couldn’t do anything about it.”

  “How does your head feel now?” Bob asked.

  “Hang on,” Annja said. She closed her eyes and prepared herself to see nothing but more fog.

  Instead, everything seemed still. “It worked.”

  “What did?”

  Annja opened her eyes. “I tried a breathing technique to purge my system of Dzerchenko’s drugs. It must have worked. I can think clearly again.”

  Bob nodded. “Good news.”

  “Well, that’s one task down. Now let’s see if we can make the other thing work.”

  “Better make it snappy,” Bob said. “You’ve got about five minutes left.”

  “How long was I breathing?”

  Bob shook his head. “Seemed like forever. But must have been at least twenty minutes.”

  “I had no idea I was out that long,” Annja said. “It only felt like I was gone a moment or so.”

  “I suppose that’s why it worked,” Bob said. “Now, really, if you wouldn’t mind helping out a pal here so he doesn’t have to get eaten by a former employee, that’d just be swell.”

  Annja smiled and closed her eyes again. She visualized the sword. At first, it seemed like it might not work, but then she really focused and suddenly she could see the sword hanging in front of her in brilliant light.

  I have no hands, Annja thought. But I can still summon my sword if I want it badly enough. All I have to do is concentrate.

  In her mind’s eye, Annja saw her hands reaching out for the sword. They closed around the hilt of the sword. Annja opened her eyes.

  The sword was not there.

  “Dammit!”

  Bob’s voice was quiet. “Easy, Annja. You can do this. I know you can. Just take it easy and try it again. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Annja closed her eyes. The sword was there, right where she had left it. She tried again to draw it out with her hands.

  Again it did not come out.

  “I don’t know if this is going to work, Bob.”

  “Keep trying, okay? We really need this to work. Otherwise, we’re both dead.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Try harder.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  Bob grunted. “Sure, with all these tubes and all. Please, just do what you can.”

  “All right.” Annja closed her eyes again. She saw the sword hovering in front of her. What is it that I’m missing? she wondered. The sword is right there. I can see it. I can wrap my hands around it. But I can’t get it out. Why?

  She studied the sword, marveling at the length of the blade and how it seemed to have an aura all its own. She looked at the hilt. She knew how it felt when it rested in her hands. How secure she felt when she wielded it. And how much a part of her it was.

  She heard something.

  A sound in another room. Bob was right. They didn’t have much time. She had to do this now.

  Dzerchenko sounded as if he was unlocking the door.

  “Annja…” Bob’s voice was low and hurried, but Annja could sense the fear welling up within him.

  She could see the sword. I need you, she thought.

  She concentrated. She saw the sword. She saw her mind’s energy wrapping itself around the hilt. She saw her mind drawing it out into this world.

  Annja opened her eyes. The sword was lying on her stomach. She looked at Bob. He had his eyes closed and was muttering in prayer or concentration. Annja worked her hands over the edge of her blade and ran the restraints over it until they released. “Hurry, Annja. He’s coming,” Bob said. His eyes were still shut tight.

  Dzerchenko muttered something on the other side of the door. Maybe he forgot the key, Annja thought.

  She leaned forward and undid her feet restraints. Then she clutched the sword in both hands.

  Annja hopped off the table and stood to one side of the door. Here goes nothing, she thought.

  The door suddenly flew open.

  Dzerchenko came in with his head down, shaking it as he thumbed his way through several keys on a ring. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but I forgot which key it was for the lock.”

  He looked up.

  Annja watched as surprise exploded all over his face.

  “What—?” Bob said.

  Annja grinned. “Howdy, Doc.”

  Dzerchenko turned.

  Annja leaned over and placed one edge of the sword blade under his chin.

  “I think it’s time you and me had ourselves a little talk.”

  31

  “Where did you get that?” Bob asked.

  Annja ignored the question.

  Dzerchenko’s eyes narrowed. “I am surprised you were able to overcome the effects of my drug. It was a recipe I made myself. Now, I think I will have to go back and reexamine it.”

  “Or maybe you’ll be dead before you get the chance,” Annja said.

  Dzerchenko shrugged. “It is always a possibility.”

  “You’re not fazed by that?”

  He laughed. “You’ve seen what I have created here. Do you think I was so naive that I wasn’t aware of the potential for danger? That my creations could go out of control at any moment and turn on me?”

  “She did go out of control. Or did you already forget?” Annja said.

  Dzerchenko laughed again. “I lied. She never went berserk. I released her. I allowed her to explore what she was. It was all part of the research.”

  “You deliberately killed those villagers?” Annja asked.

  “Indirectly.”

  Annja shook her head. “You’re guilty of so many crimes, I don’t even know where to start.”

  “I’m guilty of no crimes,” Dzerchenko said. “As I mentioned already, my work is protected.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Annja said. “Once we’re done here, we’ll make sure your work is brought to the attention of the rest of the world. You
’ll be held accountable.”

  Annja felt her anger welling up. She could slice his head off right now and make sure that Dzerchenko’s work never saw the light of day. One cut and it would be over.

  She snapped the blade away from his neck.

  He sneered. “Don’t tell me you’re beholden to some sort of honor system.”

  Bob cleared his throat. “Annja? Maybe you just ought to kill him.”

  Annja shook her head. “Not yet.” She gestured to Dzerchenko. “Get back into the laboratory.”

  “Why?”

  Annja pressed the blade against Dzerchenko’s cheek. A razor-thin line of blood appeared, and Dzerchenko winced. “I can cut you a million times and never kill you. It will hurt like hell, though, so I suggest you do what I say.”

  “Fine.”

  Annja glanced at Bob. “I’ll be next door for a moment. You okay?”

  “Yeah, just don’t take too long,” he said.

  Annja nudged Dzerchenko into the laboratory. She could see the gurneys and all kinds of medical equipment. It looked as if they were in a large underground cavern that had been hollowed out many years ago.

  “How long have you been down here?”

  “I told you. Almost thirty years.”

  “And before you?”

  Dzerchenko nodded. “There were others. This place used to be a bunker. It was convenient to set me up here.”

  Across the room, Annja could see Gregor’s body. Tubes and wires ran to various machines. She recognized some of them, but others looked completely alien to her.

  “Is he dead?”

  Dzerchenko sighed. “I told you I had no intention of killing him.”

  “He looks dead.”

  “He’s resting. The transformation tends to be quite exhausting.”

  “Transformation like what you did to the girl,” Annja said quietly.

  “Better,” Dzerchenko replied. “I had to make adjustments that would enable him to defeat skilled opponents. I thought I’d done so with the girl, but you proved otherwise when you killed her.”

  “I want him put back the way he was,” Annja said.

  Dzerchenko turned. “What? You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not.”

  Dzerchenko shook his head. “It would kill him. I cannot make him the way he was. He has implants now that would be impossible to remove.”