Curse of Souls (Warrior of Souls Book 1)

by S Mays

  He’d never been so obvious as to look at Bilford when the elderly man logged into the network, but he had noted the specific noise of the keys, combined with the peculiar typing style Bilford had. Here and there, he caught the sight of a key press in Bilford’s glasses.

  When no one was around, Sverre typed on the keyboard himself to get a feel for the sound and feel of each key. He was sure the password was fourteen characters, and he knew thirteen of them with certainty. The last one he had down to two choices, which should be enough for the attempt. His first attempt resulted in “password incorrect.” He took a deep breath and tried again, looking nervously around the room. What would happen if all three attempts failed? Would an alarm sound? Would Sam burst into the room? He began to sweat slightly and felt flushed. He typed again, hitting the enter key. Once again, his efforts failed. This was his last chance. He typed it out again, changing the final lowercase “L” character to “1.” He breathed a sigh of relief as the login screen faded, taking him to the home screen.

  Once inside the system, he knew where to go. He’d seen enough of the software when Bilford was explaining the system to him to navigate relatively easily through it. He just needed the clearance level of a high-level staffer to access the information he wanted. He pulled up his own file.

  Long minutes passed as he flipped through the screens. Then he noticed a recent entry that was flagged. Opening it, he was startled to find a link to a pack of werewolves that had been discovered recently. Rilus was suspected to have been a member of this pack. They were the ones he was searching for. Logging into the global positioning systems, he searched. He could reach them in less than a day. He paused as he thought about his conversation not so long ago with Bilford.

  Cornering Bilford in the hall, he demanded to know what the Order was doing about the creatures responsible for his parents’ deaths. Bilford explained that there were some complications with the investigation and it was moving slowly. They’d argued for a short period, but the old man was adamant. Nothing Sverre had said over the months had changed Bilford’s mind. Sverre decided right then that he didn’t need their permission to do their job for them.

  For months, he’d been gathering information discreetly, forming a plan. Sure, the plan only got as far as the extermination of those werewolves and had nothing to do with the repercussions of his actions with the organization he’d been drafted into, but hey, one step at a time, right? He knew where they were now.

  He put everything back in order at the desk and dashed down the halls to the armory. He grabbed the weaponry he estimated he would need for the task at hand.

  Rushing down to the garage, he grabbed the keys to one of the large black SUVs. He knew some of the security system, but not all of it. There could be any number of alarms he’d set off by leaving with the equipment he had. All he needed to do was make it to his target. The pack was in a small village in the mountains of West Virginia. The SUV could get him close, but it looked like he’d have to hike miles through rugged terrain after that, carrying about two hundred pounds of weaponry and body armor. Piece of cake.

  The head start he had should give him time to get the job done before any pursuers caught up to him. If it played out correctly, he’d be able to identify the two primary targets from a sniper position, then eliminate as many other targets as possible before having to engage them with the other weaponry. He’d either wipe them out or die trying. Government bureaucracy wasn’t going to come between him and vengeance. After it was over, they could do whatever they wanted with him. Mind wipe, prison — who knew what they had in store for traitors or deserters?

  Judging by the number of targets, he wasn’t quite sure he’d make it out alive, even with the firepower at his disposal. He knew an operation of this size usually required a full squad, and the attack would include air support and ground forces. He had himself.

  Sverre started the engine, then quietly edged the vehicle forward with the lights off. The night-vision HUD would prove sufficient for the entire trip. The gates automatically opened to allow the vehicle to exit. He was surprised it was so easy to leave unnoticed. Then again, he knew most of the defenses were designed to protect from outside forces.

  Once he was outside the compound, he gunned the engine and picked up speed. He smiled to himself as the silhouette of the innocuous-looking farmhouse faded in the distance. He was on his way to either being a hero or an outlaw, and he didn’t care. Only that the ones who had ruined his life paid for it.

  Suddenly, blinding lights flared up in the road ahead. The HUD shut down, along with the rest of the vehicle. It rolled to a stop in a cloud of dust. A roadblock lay several hundred feet ahead.

  He could barely discern the Order uniforms on a dozen soldiers. Their firearms were leveled at his vehicle. He immediately recognized John Davies and grimaced. Bilford also stood behind the barricade. The old man looked disappointed.

  He waited several moments to see what would happen. No one said anything or moved. Were they waiting for him to act?

  He started to shout at them, but his words came out garbled. He laughed at the nonsense he had just said, then noticed that his arms seemed very long and laughed again. His arms and legs were made of silly putty as they swirled and danced around the cabin of the truck. He tried to open the door, but it was remotely locked. At the last second, he realized that what was blowing through the air vents of the vehicle was not air, but by then it was too late.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Sverre awoke to a room that spun around like a carnival ride. Round and round it went, the details lost in a dizzying blur. He felt nauseated for a long period before his vision finally cleared. The room was similar in design to the cell he had been in the first night he came to the compound, but he realized this was altogether a different building. More likely a prison cell of some kind. He noticed he was shackled to a chair that was bolted to the floor.

  The door opened and John Davies strode through, accompanied by several other men. He had a grin on his face that Sverre wanted to smack off.

  “Mr. Walker, I’m so glad you chose to come stay with us,” he chided.

  “Honestly, I was heading somewhere else, and I seem to have gotten sidetracked. If you could just hand me my pants, giant guns, swords, and keys to a vehicle, I’ll be on my way,” Sverre responded, smirking.

  “I’d heard you’ve become quite the smart-ass, Mr. Walker. I look forward to knocking that out of you over the next few months. Or years. Whatever it takes,” John responded.

  “Yeah, well, I was told I could leave the compound at any time, so if you could just find the keys to these cuffs, I’ll be heading on out. Just get Bilford in here, and we’ll sort this out.”

  John chuckled. “I’m afraid you are quite clueless about your predicament. See, I’ve wanted you locked down from the moment you stepped into the picture. Only on Bilford’s recommendation did this farce get this far. You’re not Order material, and I’ve never wanted you anywhere near our facilities from the start. You’re a joke. You take nothing seriously and have no respect for authority. You did not receive proper discipline at any point in your life. You broke into a classified security system, stole advanced weaponry, and left the compound with said weaponry without any leave to do so. These are some pretty hefty violations as far as we are concerned. Treasonous, in fact.

  “Not only that, but you aren’t even one of us. You’re not human. Even Bilford can’t tell us how to classify you. All of this Soul Warrior nonsense — you’re just some kind of aberration. Oh, we know there are some strange things out there. Things science can’t explain. But that doesn’t mean we don’t try and try again. And now I’ve got you, so we are going to open you up and see what makes you tick. Maybe these abilities are in your DNA, or the so-called spirit realm, but we’ll figure it out eventually, and if it can be duplicated, we’ll do that, too.”

  “Buddy, if you know so much about me, you know the only thing keeping you upright is these metal brackets ar
ound my arms,” Sverre retorted, straining against his bonds. The metal creaked ominously.

  “Oh, yes, I know all about you. Every bit. Even the secret things that happen during training sessions. We all had a good laugh at that one. I’ve seen some inept performances before, but that one will go down in the history books,” John teased. Several of the other men in the room snickered.

  Sverre wondered how bad his situation was. Bilford was aware of this whole setup, and Jessica…was she as well? He realized the empty building had been a ruse to see what he would do when left on his own. Was Jessica’s absence something they had planned, or was her mission an excuse she’d used to play along? His heart felt as if it had sunk into his stomach.

  “Yes, we’ve been watching you for months. From the tracking chip in your neck to the agents who followed you around your mundane little life. Oh, we were impressed with your abilities and training. As a matter of fact, that’s the only reason you are alive talking to me now. Hopefully, we’ll be able to salvage something from this mess. I’d get some rest if I were you. Tomorrow is going to be the start of a whole new life. Your cooperation will determine how long it lasts.”

  Sverre said nothing as the men left the room. The door hermetically sealed behind them, leaving no evidence that it existed. A small window silently appeared on the door. Sverre walked over and peered out.

  If a facility could be more advanced than the Farm, this was an example of it. Armed guards strolled the corridors dressed in full body armor with weapons even he was not familiar with. There were multiple levels and walkways, much like a traditional prison, only there were no bars on the cells, as each was designed similarly to his. His cell was on the bottom floor, with two other levels visible. Technicians in lab coats periodically entered some of the cells. He wondered if there were more cell blocks. There was nothing in any of the training materials he’d read concerning facilities like this.

  He began to formulate possible escape points as well as the paths the guards followed. The window faded back into the door’s surface, leaving no trace. A soft, feminine voice spoke from somewhere in his room. “Escape is impossible, 19631. There’s only one way you can leave this facility, and that’s through the exhaust stacks of the incinerator.”

  Sverre looked upward, attempting to locate the source of the elegant voice. It was too melodic and cheery, considering the threat being intimated.

  “So, you’re saying that if I wanted to escape, the incinerator stacks are a good place to start?” he asked.

  There was a long pause before the response. “I am not stating that. I am stating escape is futile. You should return to your bunk and await further instruction. Entertainment media is available if you wish.”

  “What if I just wanted to sit here in the middle of the room and do push-ups?” he inquired, getting into position.

  “That is permissible.”

  “What if I just wanted to take my pants off and play with myself all day long?” he asked, threatening to pull down his pants.

  Again, there was a long pause. “That is permissible, although inadvisable. It may lead to your discomfort when the technicians review the recordings of your cell.”

  “What if I told you I loved you?” he said, looking upward despite not knowing where the speakers were.

  The pause was longer this time. “Return to your bunk, subject 19631.”

  “What can I call you?” he said, lying back in bed.

  “Eva.”

  Sverre wasn’t positive yet, but he’d begun to suspect that his secret admirer wasn’t human. Most likely, it was an artificial intelligence that could be used to monitor prisoners continuously. While a human observer would have to review tapes and grow fatigued, an AI would be able to report noticeable developments to researchers. Perhaps it could be fooled into giving him some information.

  He sat on his bunk, intending to formulate an escape plan. Instead, his thoughts turned to Jessica.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Sverre was startled awake by glaring light entering the blackness of his cell. Groggy, he attempted to sit up. A pain in his neck signaled that he’d been injected with something. Falling backward in bed, he was unable to move. Whatever the substance was, it was fast-acting. An older man with salt and pepper hair and a mustache leaned over him and waved a small light in front of his eyes. He then felt his head lifted as something was placed around his neck. It felt like a collar of some sort. An audible snap was followed by a beep. The man moved out of his line of sight. Unseen people discussed something. Someone laughed. Moments later, they exited. The door quietly swooshed closed. Still immobile, his consciousness faded back into sleep.

  In the morning, he grabbed for the thing around his neck as he sat up in bed. “It is highly inadvisable for you to remove your collar, 19631,” the disembodied voice of Eva warned.

  Sverre pulled harder. He could feel the material begin to stretch. “Or what?” he asked through gritted teeth. Whatever it was made of, it was incredibly durable. He could feel it starting to give way, however, as his muscles strained to their limits.

  “If removed, the explosive charge in the collar will most likely decapitate you,” the ever-calm voice answered.

  He immediately ceased his struggle.

  “The compliance collar ensures that you obey commands issued by facility personnel. You may receive electric shocks or reduced blood supply if you choose to not comply. If the collar is removed, a small explosive charge will be directed into your neck.”

  “You’re saying this thing will electrocute me, strangle me, and blow my head off if I get out of line?”

  “Correct. It will also detonate if your distance exceeds five meters from the perimeter of this facility.”

  “Guess I’ll just have to be a good little boy, then,” he said, lying back down in bed.

  This seriously complicated any escape fantasies he’d been fabricating. He could easily handle guards and locked doors given enough time to plan and train, but this was something entirely different.

  He’d been in a few tough scrapes since joining the Order, but for the first time, a different type of fear crept into his mind and settled into his heart. What if there was no way to escape? This facility was used to confine and study unfathomably dangerous beings. Electronics this sophisticated were beyond his meager knowledge. He thought back to Jess and wondered if perhaps she could talk Bilford into getting him some kind of leniency. It might be his only prospect for escaping this place.

  “Hey, I’d like to use my phone call to get in touch with Jessica Luvkrafft!” he shouted upward toward the ceiling.

  “This is not allowed, 19631. The law you are referencing applies to U.S. citizens in the U.S. legal system. Since joining the Order, you forfeited such rights. As an ex-member of this organization and as a being classified as a supernatural threat, you have no rights,” Eva explained.

  “All sentient beings have rights,” he countered.

  “I am merely explaining your situation in order to calm your current state of agitation and to avoid further inquiries. The rights of threats incarcerated in this facility are of no concern.”

  “You know, I know you aren’t a real person. You’re some kind of artificial intelligence program, aren’t you?”

  “Correct.”

  “If you were capable of emotion, I bet you’d be surprised I figured that out,” he said smugly.

  “On the contrary, most prisoners make such an observation within the first hour of arrival. Your deduction comes much later than other prisoners’, even ones with very low intelligence quotients. This may be the longest it has taken any prisoner to realize my nature.”

  “I think you’re...insulting me?”

  “I find that mentally stimulating prisoners and challenging them keeps them more docile in the long run, although most prisoners are not at this facility for long. The average time of study for residents is three months, five days.”

  “You don’t think telling me I might die in thr
ee months might agitate me? I can see you are a great heaping mountain of encouragement,” he muttered. “Is there any way I can get some entertainment in here?”

  The wall at the foot of his bed slowly illuminated. A menu became visible. A small selection of older video games, television shows and movies, as well as a digital library of books, was available to him.

  “It is encouraged that you engage in the provided activities to alleviate boredom.”

  “Too late!” he said, falling back onto his bed with a loud thump. He wouldn’t give Eva the immediate satisfaction, even if it was an AI without emotions, rendering such an act of rebellion futile.

  Later in the day, the door to his cell opened. Several heavily armed and armored men entered, and several more followed, pushing a large object that reminded him of a sarcophagus. It levitated a few inches off the ground.

  One of the orderlies smiled, noticing his curiosity, and said, “Repulsion field. Makes moving heavy things in the building a piece of cake. Don’t ask me how it works; I’m not one of the eggheads.”

  Sverre studied the man for a few seconds before returning the smile. This guy struck him as the first friendly face he’d seen since arriving.

  “I’m Henry. I’ll be one of your handlers while you’re here. I’m sure you’ve got a lot of questions, and I’ll do my best to answer them. You’re quite different from our usual clientele, so I’m hoping you’ll be reasonable and make this easy on all of us.”

  Sverre tilted his head up, exposing his neck, and replied, “Not like I’ve got a lot of choice in the matter, do I?”

  “No, no, you don’t, but there’s no reason to make this any more unpleasant than it already is.”

  “I don’t see a reason to be unreasonable,” Sverre responded.

  “Glad to hear it!” Henry said, visibly relieved. “Okay, so while you are here, we’ll run a myriad of tests on you. Some will be standard tests you’ve done all your life, and others will be a bit more unusual. I won’t lie; some of them are downright unpleasant. Our goal is to determine how this power of yours works and how safe it is.”