Just then, a figure approached from behind, not walking exactly, but gliding just above the blood-soaked battlefield. He seemed impossibly tall, but other than his extraordinary height he could have been a simple monk from some ancient religious order. Annie could not see the face but there was no doubt that she was looking at the same creature that now stood at the center of the room holding sway over her thoughts.
Sensing the close presence of another individual, perhaps an enemy who wanted to finish him, the soldier lowered the hand that held the object and twisted around for his sword.
In that instant Annie recognized the soldier.
“Daddy?” she said, unaware until the word was out of her mouth that she’d spoken it aloud.
Yes, child, said the Collector. Only he cannot hear you. I am allowing you to witness an event from very long ago. You are seeing across space and time to another reality.
“I don’t understand any of this,” Annie said.
You see, child, I had been searching for the object since the day I was exiled to this earth, with little success, and here, a soldier of seemingly little importance on a battlefield forgotten by time, plucked it from the silt of a river. I knew then that the soldier was the man I had come here to find, so I struck a bargain with him. In exchange for the object the soldier would survive the war and go on to found a great family dynasty. He would enjoy wealth and luxury and a very long life. But there would be one condition.
“What condition?” Annie asked.
When the time was right he would produce an heir who would produce an heir. The time is right now, love . . . The Collector stopped talking, allowing his words to sink in.
Annie’s eyes flew wide open in surprise. “Get away from me!” she said curling her body forward, hugging the roundness of her belly, protectively shielding it from the creature’s scrutinizing eye. “You are not touching my baby.”
I do not intend to touch your baby, love. On the contrary, I was sent here to facilitate its coming.
“Yes, you said that, but tell me why. Tell me why the time is right now? Why not five-hundred years ago? Why not two-hundred years into the future? Why does it have to be now? Why does it have to be my child?”
Simple, love, the father of the child had to be just the right one, and Douglas McArthur was not born until thirty-five years ago.
“So this is what mine and Doug’s lives have been about?” Annie moaned. “We were born to serve your twisted purpose?”
Ah, love, I am afraid you are once again mistaken, for it is not my purpose that you serve but something far greater.
“Such as?”
“Perhaps the very salvation of your species.”
“That is just plain crap!” Annie spat. “You stay away from me and my baby! Do you understand me?”
I intend you no harm, love. The child needs a mother. Someone to raise it and love it, someone to teach it manners, grace and respect, see that it is properly educated so that it can become what it is meant to become. You are the only one who can do that. Tell me that you will, Annie.”
The Collectors reasoning was sound, and despite Annie’s defiance, she knew that he was right. When the time came she would birth her baby, raise it and do well by it. This was an incontestable fact. There would be time to steer it away from the Collector’s dark persuasions. Of this she was nearly certain.
With renewed assurances of Annie’s acquiescence, the Collector ceased to be in her presence. Annie felt its departing like a cool breeze on a warm day.
She lay on the canvas-covered floor for a long time thinking about her child and grieving for the lost love of her life, cursing fate for dealing her such a twisted hand. In time, a litany of thoughts began to form and find their way to the private place inside her mind, the three-lock-box of secrecy where no one was ever allowed. She knew now what she had to do and she needed to get on with it.
So she heaved herself up off the floor and headed for the shower, all the while formulating her plan.
PART FOUR
THE TRUTH
Chapter 57
When Doug awoke he was no longer in motion. Of this he was certain.
“Here, Doug. Hold this close to your heart.”
“What?”
“Your heart. Hold this close to your heart. Here, I’ll help you.”
“Where am I?”
“Someplace safe. There, I’ve put the chain around your neck. Take your hand and hold this close to your heart.”
Doug was coming up out of the well, slowly but surely. He saw the oval of Lucy’s face, close and stressed, and she had his hand in hers and was attempting to force his fist around something.
Doug opened his hand in order to see what it held. An almost electric jolt went through him in recognition. The artifact lay in his palm. Memories came flooding back of a dying old priest in a churchyard delivering a warning of apocalypse. He’d been awake and on the mend for at least two weeks, had practically told Lucy the story of his life, yet he had not remembered to tell her about the artifact or the incident that had caused it to be in his possession. How could that possibly be? Actually he had remembered nothing about it until those two assholes entered his room and tried to kill him. What had happened to it following his near murder? Near murder, hell. You were dead, but for some inconceivable reason you didn’t stay dead.
Impossible.
Maybe not.
And now he lay on his back in a soft and quiet place as Lucy tried to force his hand around it.
The object has power, as have you, the old priest had said. It will help to protect you. Together you may have a chance.
The man’s words came back to Doug unbidden. In fact everything was coming back now, so suddenly and so completely that the feeling was almost surreal, dizzying, positively electrifying, and a little bit frightening. It was as though his mind was an amplifier whose volume had been cranked up all the way.
“It helped save your life,” Lucy said.
“What? This?”
Lucy nodded.
“How?”
“I can’t explain it.”
“You took it after I got shot, didn’t you?”
“When Parsons and I undressed you I found it in your jacket pocket. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I had to take it before someone else saw it. Before it disappeared forever.”
“I don’t understand.”
“They would have killed us both for it.”
“Why?”
“Because it is one of the most sought after objects in history.”
Doug gazed intently at the object.
Lucy said, “During those weeks when you lay in a coma, and even after you woke, I would come to you late at night when no one else was around and place it against your wounds. Somehow it accelerated the healing process.”
Doug shook his head frowning. “That’s impossible.”
“It’s true, Doug. I swear it is.”
“This thing healed me?”
Lucy smiled and nodded as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I never thought I would ever see it, let alone hold it my hand.”
“You knew what it was?”
Lucy’s smile evaporated. “Oh yes, but I thought it had been lost forever. Doug, there’s something you need to know.”
Doug stared.
“I haven’t been totally honest with you.”
Doug wasn’t surprised. He’d sensed deceit from the beginning, and now, well, perhaps he could get to the bottom of some things. He waited.
Lucy averted her eyes for a moment before bringing them back to focus fully on Doug. “The object didn’t just accelerate the healing process . . .”
Doug waited.
“You were . . . dead, Doug. You died in that airport restroom.”
Doug nodded. “There’s something in my head,” he said, “I don’t know, I can’t properly explain it. Like maybe I was aware of my own death on a subconscious level. But it didn’t feel bad. It felt sort of peaceful actually. Like it wa
s meant to be and everything was going to be okay. It gave me a chance to visit with people I thought were lost.”
Lucy blinked away tears. “We got you out of there as quickly as possible and placed you in a tank of ice water. It’s called induced hypothermia. There are documented cases of people who have been dead for as long as several hours or more and brought back. The low temperatures slow brain deterioration. But you were gone for nearly four hours.”
Doug shook his head. “That’s crazy.”
Lucy said, “I understand your doubts, but it’s true. By the time we were able to get a response, almost four hours had passed. We didn’t know if there’d be brain function when you woke; we didn’t know if you would ever wake up.”
“But something else happened with you that goes beyond medical, beyond logical, some miracle or something.” She pointed at the artifact. “I can’t explain how or why, but it has something to do with that.”
“How do you know for sure?”
“Because I saw what it did. I placed it against your wounds. I placed it against your heart and it began to heat up and glow a bright golden color. It was healing you. If not for that object we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“How did you get me out of there and through airport security?”
“We have a large and efficient team. We can become anyone we need to become in a very short time. We employ professionals from around the globe. We have badges and uniforms and equipment. By the time the real authorities began to suspect something was amiss everything had been efficiently taken care of and you were gone. Nobody knows.”
“Somebody knows,” Doug said. “Parsons knew and then those men came after me.”
Lucy sighed. “You’re right, Doug. There are those who know you’re alive. But it is in their interest if the rest of the world thinks you’re dead.”
“Parsons said that members of the government were involved.”
“They desperately want the artifact.”
“But he said they wanted me.”
“That’s because they were certain you could lead them to it and so they grabbed Parsons’ family and told him the only way to get them back was to deliver you. They were betting they could persuade you to give it up.”
Doug opened his hand and glared at the object with contempt. “This thing corrupts governments?”
Lucy said nothing.
“What if I were to hide it where no one would ever find it?” Doug said. “What if I were to destroy it?”
The color blanched from Lucy’s face. “You can’t do that, Doug. It’s too important.”
“Important enough to kill and kidnap and destroy lives over? Nothing is that important.”
“The object is not responsible for man’s greed.”
Doug’s face reddened with anger. “Someone brought down an airliner full of people for that thing. Was it our own government?”
“No.”
“Who then? No more bullshit, I want to know what’s going on.”
“The government knows about De Roché and his daughter and they’re going to make a play for the child when it’s born.”
“My child? Jesus, why? I just don’t get it.”
“Because it will be special.”
“Bullshit!”
“Think about the things you’re capable of, Doug.”
“But I’m not capable of anything. I see horrors and catastrophes, some of the worst shit in the world.”
“You see the future.”
“Oh, Christ,” Doug said, rolling his head back and forth on the pillow. “Is that what this is about? It’s total crap.”
“Why do you think that artifact fell into your hands?”
“It didn’t fall into my hands. It was given to me by a dead man. I didn’t want it.”
“Yet you have it.”
“No! You have it,” Doug said thrusting the object at Lucy. “And you can keep it. I don’t want the goddamn thing near me. Oh, and by the way, I was conscious for two weeks. I told you all that stuff about me, and you never once mentioned it? Something stinks.”
Lucy eyed the object but she would not take it. “It was meant for you, Doug. Listen. It was obvious that either you weren’t aware that you had the object or that you didn’t remember. I thought it best to keep it that way, at least for the time being. I couldn’t speak of it in the hospital. It was too risky. Everything I told you was the truth. You have to trust me.”
Doug remembered Nurse Sanchez and Doctor Parsons and his blood began to boil. “No!” he said. “I don’t trust you. I don’t trust anyone. How long will it be before they find me again?”
“You’re safe here.”
“That’s what you said before and you were wrong!”
“This time no one knows where we are. I promise. Doug, I’m sorry about what happened. If I’d had any inkling I would never have taken you to that hospital.”
Doug lifted the artifact, gazing at it with a deep sense of suspicion. “Tell me about this thing. What is it? What do they want with it? Why the hell do I have it?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I don’t care!”
“I’m not going to say another word until you calm down.”
For a long moment Doug watched Lucy, trying to see beyond the pretty face to the truth beneath it. But the effort was futile. The irony of his gift was that he was able to see tragedies, murder, horrible things. Try as he might he could not see the simple truth inside people. What he had was not a gift, it was a curse. A benevolent god would never have done such a cruel thing. He concentrated on his breathing, forcing himself to relax. “Where am I?” he asked.
“A private estate in the Kentucky countryside. The owners are my friends. They’re in Europe for the summer.”
“How long have I been here?”
“Twenty-four hours. You tore open one of your wounds during the escape and I wasn’t even sure you’d make it. But ever since I placed the artifact over your heart the healing process has accelerated at an astonishing rate.” Lucy smiled. “You’re going to be okay, Doug.”
Doug gazed again at the object. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you? This thing, whatever it is, is healing me.”
Lucy nodded. “It’s helping. Your will to live might have something to do with it.”
Doug stared at Lucy, his anger receding. “I’m really hungry,” he said.
Lucy smiled. “That’s a good sign. Feel like sitting up?” He nodded. She helped him to a sitting position and then she took the object from him and hung it around his neck and gently patted it against his chest. He looked narrowly at her. “Just in case,” she said as she left the room.
Doug took in his surroundings. He was in a dimly-lit room with putty colored wood-paneled walls and a large stone fireplace. It was not a hospital room. Far from it. His bed was not of the hospital variety, either. Actually it looked to be an antique, probably mahogany or cherry with tall decorated posts. There was no equipment surrounding him, no tubes running liquids into his system, no beeping monitors, no sterile odor, and no nurses. Just the bed, a huge antique chest of drawers, the fireplace, and two large windows that gave way to a view of a long sloping lawn with trees in the distance. The room must have been on the west end of the house because from his vantage Doug could see the sun falling below the tree line.
Doug inspected his bandages. It appeared that the dressings had recently been changed. He poked at the areas where bullets had torn into his flesh and felt no pain. He decided he felt pretty good.
In a moment Lucy was back carrying a tray of food. There was a bowl of vegetable beef soup in which floated large, white noodles, two slices of warm buttered home-style bread and a tall glass of ice-cold milk. “If you eat it all,” Lucy said smiling, “There’s a piece of warm apple pie waiting in the kitchen.”
Doug attacked the food with a ravenous vengeance. Lucy sat and watched him eat, saying nothing. He devoured every bite and then handed Lucy the tray. She put it aside and
looked at Doug. “Feel like talking?”
Doug glared at Lucy. “I need to get out of here.”
Lucy gave her head a grim shake. “Not yet. You’re not strong enough. You wouldn’t last a day out there.”
“Jesus,” Doug said.
“You’re a wanted man.”
Doug sighed. “I really do feel okay.”
“You’re not okay. You need to get strong. You have too much to lose by leaving here too soon and everything to gain by staying. Over the past weeks you’ve lost a lot of muscle mass. You need to get it back. There’s a gym here with exercise equipment, and a jogging trail. Your weight is down. You need good food, and we need to start a controlled physical therapy regimen.”
Doug frowned. He wanted to scream in frustration. It was driving him crazy imagining just hanging out here, eating and doing exercises while Annie’s life hung in the balance, or worse, his unborn child was slated for some dark purpose. Knowing that Annie thought he was dead was especially difficult. “What about Annie?” he asked.
“She’s okay, still with her father at the house in Florida. They haven’t left the premises since your memorial service.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just do. Isn’t that enough?”
Doug stared. “My god, who are you people? Don’t you get it? De Roché is a monster.”
“No harm will come to Annie until after the baby is born. And that’s still more than four months away.”
“That’s comforting,” Doug said, looking into Lucy’s eyes, trying desperately to see a truth that did not want to be seen. She was not being totally honest with him. He sensed it. No, he knew it. He wasn’t sure how he knew, he just did. He was picking up the same vibes he’d felt at the hospital; there was an odd and disturbing familiarity about this woman that totally baffled him. Had they met somewhere before? Had something happened while he was comatose that made him feel this strange affinity toward her?
Soul Thief (Blue Light Series) Page 36