Читать книгу The Soul Stealer - Alex Archer - Страница 10

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!”

Bob’s voice broke through the rural air, and Annja heard him above the grinding roar of the truck. She glanced back over her shoulder. She guessed the truck was a two-and-a-half-ton truck used by militaries all over the world as supply trucks and to convey troops from one region to another.

There was a nasty gash across the radiator grille that gave the front end an almost comical toothy appearance. It looked as if the truck could simply overtake her and eat her alive.

Annja looked ahead and kept jamming her feet against the pedals as hard as she could. She huffed as her lungs worked like bellows. Her breath stained the air with steam and mixed with the sweat pouring down her face.

Ahead of her, Bob was pedaling fast, as well.

The road sloped at a severe angle. The increase meant Annja would have to pedal even harder and she didn’t know if she had it in her.

Keep pedaling, she told herself. She could see the crest of the hill. If she could just manage to make it—

The truck horn blared behind her, jarring her. She glanced back and saw that it was even closer than before. It showed no signs of easing back or slowing down. Whoever was driving that rig was having a lot of fun at her expense.

She couldn’t see through the windshield. For one thing, the entire panel of glass seemed to have a jagged line scored through it. She could see the buildup of bug guts and dirt had stained it so much that being able to determine who was driving was an impossibility.

Her legs felt like lead weights. She wanted to vomit.

Keep going!

She pedaled harder. She could hear the gravel underneath her tires kicking away from the wheels as she sped her way up the hillside.

Fifty yards to the top.

The truck horn blared again.

Annja turned and saw the bumper closing in on her bicycle. There was only twenty feet or so separating them.

He really means to run me over, she thought.

She felt herself growing angry. Furious even. Who the hell would want to kill her like this? Why were they so determined? She hadn’t even been in Russia long enough to annoy that many people.

Annja gave one last, monumental effort, her lungs straining to their capacity. She drove her heels into the pedals and the bike shot forward.

Along the side of the hill, she could see the sheer drop-off, plunging hundreds of feet to the ground far below.

The truck nudged her.

Annja lost control.

“Bob!”

She jerked the handlebars of the bike to the right and then to the left. The truck nudged her again, and Annja headed straight off the edge of the hill.

She was falling.

Annja had the briefest sensation of being weightless—suspended in midair—before gravity exerted its pull on her body and jerked her back down toward the earth.

She hit the side of the hill and tumbled, rolled and somersaulted over jagged rocks, tree roots, upturned branches and forest debris. Somewhere she heard her bicycle doing a passable imitation of her own body as it caromed down the hillside.

Annja tried to relax herself as she bounced her way down the slope.

And then suddenly, she came to a stop.

Blackness came for her.

“A NNJA !”

Her head pounded.

“Not so loud. I believe she has a concussion.”

“Annja.” The first voice was softer now.

Annja blinked, saw the bright light of the gray sky and closed her eyes again, groaning as she did so.

“Annja. Can you hear me?” Bob’s voice sounded as if he might break out sobbing at any moment.

“Unfortunately,” she mumbled.

She heard Gregor chuckle. “Is good sign. She has sense of humor. That tells me she is not too badly broken.”

Annja opened her eyes again. “Speak for yourself. I feel like crap.”

Gulliver shook his head. “My God, when you went over the side of the hill…I thought you were a goner.”

“So did I,” she said.

Gregor frowned. “You should be dead.”

Annja smirked. “That was subtle.”

He held up his hands. “Forgive me, it’s just that you fell so far it is truly a marvel that you are still alive.”

Bob moved away and nodded for Gregor to move in closer. “Check her for broken bones, will you?”

“Hey—” Annja protested.

Bob held up his hand. “Annja, please. Humor me, will you? Gregor has some medical training and knows how to look for these things.”

Annja felt Gregor put his hands behind her neck and then feel his way down the center of her back, pause briefly at her buttocks, and then continue down her legs. Then he ran his hands down her arms and finally peered into her eyes.

“Having fun?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No broken bones.”

Gulliver whistled. “That’ll be one hell of a way to start this show off. A dramatic reenactment of you tumbling over the side of the cliff and then emerging unscathed.”

Annja tried to sit up, but Gregor held her down. “Not yet. Too soon. You rest a few minutes.” He held a water bottle to her lips and Annja took a sip of the cold liquid.

As soon as she swallowed it, she turned and vomited.

She wiped her mouth. “Sorry about that, guys.”

Gregor only nodded. “Concussion.” He looked at Gulliver. “She cannot move too much yet.”

Gulliver frowned. “As long as she’s not seriously hurt.”

Gregor shrugged. “We will see. If she falls asleep and never wakes up again, then that is bad sign.”

Annja sighed. “You don’t say.”

Gulliver looked around. “Can we make this into a campsite?”

Gregor nodded. “It will suffice for our needs.”

Annja threw some pine needles over the small pool of vomit. “Sorry about the smell.”

Gregor shook his head. “No need. It will dissipate soon enough. You should rest now. I will make the camp.”

He moved off and Bob knelt in close. “You okay? Seriously?”

Annja touched her head. “Aside from a raging headache, yeah, I guess so. But what the hell happened up there?”

Gulliver shook his head. “No idea. One minute everything was fine and the next that monster truck was bearing down on you. I crested the hill and got into a small niche up there for safety. And Gregor was already ahead of me in the safe zone. There was nothing I could do. I felt totally helpless.”

“You weren’t the only one.”

He sighed. “I’m terribly sorry to have gotten you into this mess. Christ, you were almost killed! It’s all my fault.”

Annja tried to smile. “Forget it. Our profession has its share of risks. I’m well aware of what these things entail.”

“Yeah, but being driven off the side of the hill by a truck isn’t usually one of them, is it?” Bob asked.

Annja grinned. “You got me there.”

Gulliver sat back on his haunches and sighed again. “We couldn’t even get a good look at the maniac driving the rig. I was so concerned about you when I saw you go over the side of the cliff. My God, Annja, I thought you were dead.”

“So did I,” she said. “I guess I had some lucky bounces.”

Gregor returned, hauling Annja’s bike with him. Annja was surprised. “You found it?”

“Farther down the slope. It is a little banged up, but otherwise okay. Like its owner, I would say.”

Annja nodded. “Hell of a bike.”

Gregor vanished into the woods again. Annja looked at Bob. “You guys rappelled down here?”

“Gregor always carries rope with him on these trips. He claims it’s one of the most important survival tools you can have. After what happened today, I’m inclined to agree with him.”

“How long was I out?” Annja asked.

Gulliver shrugged. “Gregor’s been working on you for almost an hour.”

“That’s some hired hand you got yourself there, Bob. Guy seems like he can do everything.”

“Short of stopping a truck,” Bob said with a small smile.

Gregor returned, his arms laden with branches. He dropped them close to Annja’s feet and then sat down on the ground. Using a large flat stone, he scraped away a portion of the earth and then lined the pit with more rocks. On top of these, he rested a small pile of tinder. Over that, he built a tepee of small twigs for his kindling. When he was satisfied, he stooped low, struck a single match and lit the tinder.

Flames erupted instantly as the fire ate into the dry tinder and kindling. Gregor added some thicker branches.

Annja felt the warmth of the fire and sighed once. “A fire is a very nice thing indeed.”

Gregor smiled. “Warmth. Comfort. And food. These things will make you feel better quicker than anything else.”

Gulliver opened his hands over the flames and then rubbed them together. “I’m afraid I didn’t pack a tent for this journey. I figured we’d reach our destination and find board there. This side trip has certainly been unexpected.”

Gregor looked at the sky. “We will need shelter. Tonight it will rain. Possibly it will also snow.”

“Already?” Bob looked nervous. “I didn’t expect the winter to come down quite so fast.”

Gregor nodded. “One thing about Siberia. It is impossible to predict her moods. If she wishes to snow, then she will snow. She cares little about the whims of man.” He turned to leave.

Annja cleared her throat. “Where are you going?”

Gregor looked back at her and then pointed at Bob. “He says he has not brought a tent. Neither have I. Since we have not brought a shelter, it will be necessary to make one. Otherwise, you will have hypothermia before morning.”

He vanished into the woods again. Annja glanced at Bob. “Tell me again where exactly you found this guy?”

“Moscow. He was looking for work and answered my ad for a hired hand. He’s pretty close-lipped about his past. Just what I told you before.”

“He seems to have a lot of skills for a mafiya enforcer.”

“Military. He never told me what he did, but I’m guessing special operations. Spetsnaz most likely. Those guys never talk about their past.”

“Lucky for us, I guess,” Annja said.

Gulliver pointed overhead. “I’d say so.”

Annja looked at the sky. Dark clouds were moving in fast. It looked very much as if Siberia was getting ready to unleash a blizzard on them.