The Soul Stealer

“They are.”

Annja looked at Gregor again. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” he said quietly.

Annja removed a playing card from her jacket pocket and slid it against the spokes of Gulliver’s bike. He was too involved in his map and didn’t notice. Finally, he folded the map and looked back. “Are we ready?”

Annja smiled. “Let’s roll.”

Gulliver turned, mounted his bike and started pedaling. Instantly, from the back of his bike came the telltale sound as the spokes slid over the playing card.

Annja smiled. Behind her, she heard Gregor chuckle. “He will not notice that for at least three miles,” he said.

G REGOR’S ESTIMATION WAS correct. They pedaled for three miles on the paved highway leading out of Magadan. The road gradually waned from sleek asphalt to pockmarked concrete rife with potholes and bits of wire jutting out of the ground along its edges. More and more, they had to wind their way around obstacles.

Gulliver signaled a halt and they pulled over to the side of the road. He frowned and leaned back, removing the playing card from his spokes. “This your idea of a funny?” he asked.

Annja shrugged. “Yep,” she said.

Gulliver took a swig of water from his bottle and then replaced it. “The road ahead goes from this to more of a hard mud track. It should be easier once we hit it.”

“Less obstructions,” Gregor said from behind them.

“They don’t believe in road repair in these parts, huh?” Annja looked around them. Anything short of a combat tank would have flat tires in seconds.

“Is not they don’t believe in it,” Gregor said. “Just that the officials all have their hands out ready for a little grease. By the time the money filters down to the workers who must actually repair the road, there is none left.”

“Wonderful,” Annja said.

Gulliver waved them on. “I want to at least reach a way point by tonight. And that’s thirty miles away.”

Annja sighed. A thirty-miler wasn’t the best way she imagined to ease back into the bicycling frame of mind, but she knew that once Gulliver had his mind fixed on something, he wasn’t going to budge for anything short of a life in danger.

Gregor sped past her and then overtook Gulliver. He pedaled ahead. Annja marveled at how easily he rode his bicycle.

Bob glanced back at her. “He’s a former military guy. Did I mention that?”

“No,” Annja said.

“He’s used to driving himself hard. One of those guys who measures himself based on how difficult something is. The bigger the obstacle, the better he feels about himself when he masters it.”

Annja nodded. “I know someone just like that.”

Bob grinned. “I thought you might find that a familiar sentiment.”

They pedaled along for another hour. Magadan’s outskirts disappeared quickly as the stark countryside reclaimed the edges of the road for itself. Annja saw the twisted, bent and hooked branches of the spindly trees reaching in for them. She saw little animal life and only a few birds cruised the skies.

“Is it always like this?” she eventually asked.

“Like what?”

“Devoid of life.”

Gulliver shrugged. “Winter’s coming. And soon. Most of the animals have already wandered off to their various hibernation areas. Birds have flown south. And the landscape just seems to be settling down for the harsh snows.”

“We’ve got time, though, right?” Annja asked.

“Yes. Timing was crucial. I’m glad you were able to get out here. With luck, we should find something before we get snowbound.”

“What happened with Gregor, anyway?” Annja could barely make out his bicycle far ahead of them.

“He likes taking point on these things. Takes his job of protecting me very seriously. Says there are far too many threats out here for a man to travel alone. He insists on driving on ahead to spot anything that looks a bit off.”

“Does he cost a lot?”

Gulliver shrugged. “Not by our standards. But he makes a decent wage. Plus, it gets him away from the mafiya . And anytime he can do that, he’s far happier than he is otherwise.”

Annja dropped behind Bob as the road narrowed drastically. From two lanes, the hard-packed mud and gravel withered to barely a single lane. On her right side, the edge of the road fell away as they ascended what looked to be a fairly significant hill.

“Mind yourself,” Bob said. “We’re corkscrewing up the hill. It’s a long way down.”

“Why don’t we use the left side?”

“Anything coming at us from the other way will crush us against the side of the hill. They won’t see us coming.”

“Makes sense.” Annja kept pedaling. Her breathing was coming harder as her lungs got their first taste of serious exertion. She kept herself hunched low, trying to reduce her wind resistance as she climbed the hill. The bike seemed built for a wide variety of terrain and handled the ascent pretty well.

It didn’t make the strain of the pedaling any easier for Annja, though.

Ahead of her, Bob seemed in his element. He used long, steady pedaling to carve his way up the hill. Annja tried to emulate him, but knew that as her body responded to the stress of serious biking for the first time in years, she was going to have a harder time than Bob or Gregor, for that matter.

She settled her breathing and tried to relax.

She heard a sudden sound. She turned in her seat and saw the large truck rumbling up the hill behind her.

She frowned. “Bob!”

He turned and saw the truck. “Oh, crap! Pedal faster, Annja!”

Annja drove her feet into the pedals. The truck sounded its horn. The sharp wail cut through the cold air and sliced into Annja’s back. She looked back, but rather than slow down as another truck might be expected to do when it was climbing an incline, this truck seemed to be accelerating.

And it was headed straight for Annja.

4

Annja pumped her pedals harder, desperately trying to outpace the truck streaming up the hillside road behind her. Her breathing felt shallow, as if she couldn’t get enough oxygen into her lungs to power her legs. Sweat broke out along her hairline and ran down her face. She knew the signs of adrenaline rush and this certainly qualified.

“Annja!”