The Soul Stealer. Alex Archer

      Annja looked behind her and saw Bob just about to start the descent. He waved once and then leaned forward, anticipating that rush of downhill speed that all cyclists enjoy once they’ve finished a hard climb.

      The descent took the better part of an hour, but at the end, the road evened out. They were in a heavily forested area, with tall pines and scraggly birch trunks dotting the landscape. Giant boulders thrown up from the depths of the earth bordered the road as they pedaled on. But Annja saw little to denote civilization.

      Bob rode up next to her. “This part of the country is remote. Even though we’re still reasonably close to Magadan, it’s like another planet out here. Weird, huh?”

      “It doesn’t feel cozy—that’s for sure,” Annja said.

      “And those woods seem anything but friendly. Even the trees seem to be leaning in on us.”

      “It is kind of claustrophobic, isn’t it?” Bob asked.

      “Just a bit.”

      “Gregor’s stopped his bike.”

      Annja looked ahead. Sure enough, a quarter of a mile away, Gregor had stopped. They rode up and he spoke. “We are close.”

      Bob looked and smiled. “There.”

      Annja followed his gaze and saw the first indications of civilization she’d seen since they left Magadan. “Not exactly a bustling city, is it?”

      Gregor shook his head. “Yakutsk is small. Just a few hundred people live there. But they are good souls.” He handed out some energy bars.

      “You’ve been there before?” Annja asked while eating.

      Gregor shrugged. “I was attached to a military unit that operated in this area once. A long time ago.”

      “Any friends still left in these parts?” she asked.

      “Everyone is friendly, once they get to know you. This part of my country is remote. Strangers are not a usual thing to see, so the people living here are somewhat suspicious. But having me with you is okay. They will be glad to meet you when they see me.”

      Bob nudged Annja. “Gregor’s like a VIP ticket to any club back in the Big Apple.”

      “Handy guy to have around,” Annja said.

      Gregor grinned. “We ride now.”

      They got back on the bikes and pedaled on. The dirt road gave way to a cracked type of pavement that looked as if it might be all of fifty years old. Gregor pointed at it as they rode.

      “Once this road was much sturdier. The Soviet army drove tanks all over the country.”

      “Guess it’s been a while since they had any road-repair crews out here,” Annja said.

      “Money,” Gregor said. “All comes back to money.”

      The woods fell behind them and muddy open fields dotted the countryside. Simple houses lined the roads, most with smoking chimneys. The air felt colder, and Annja could see there was a layer of fog moving in from the west.

      The single road grew wider as they entered the town itself. Annja could pick out what looked to be a main all-purpose store and a small café. Aside from that, there was a loose cluster of homes and a church standing alone at the end of the road.

      Gregor pointed at the church. “Father Jakob runs the church. He has been here since the dinosaurs.”

      Annja grinned. “Think he remembers you?”

      Gregor looked at her. “Perhaps I made an indelible impression on him when I was much younger.”

      “How so?”

      “He heard my confession. First time for me since I was only a boy. I think I may have scarred him,” Gregor said with a laugh.

      Bob pedaled past them. “Where is everyone?”

      Annja glanced around. There seemed to be no one around the store or café. The streets looked deserted. There weren’t even any dogs lounging around, which Annja found very peculiar. She’d been around the world enough to know that even in the poorest places, you could always find a mutt or two mooching about.

      She heard voices, though. “What’s that?” she asked.

      Gregor pointed to their right. “Over here.”

      They dismounted and walked between two houses, passing rusted drain pipes leaking water to the muddy ground. Annja caught a whiff of something that smelled quite disgusting and hoped they had some type of plumbing here at least.

      They passed the houses and in front of them stood an open field. Annja shivered as they walked. Annja was sure the temperature must have dipped well below freezing.

      As they approached the crowd of people milling around, Annja could see they were extremely agitated. Several women clutched at the few children present. The men all wore grim expressions.

      Gregor strode up to them, but his gruff demeanor vanished as he approached. Annja heard him speaking with them. Next to her, Bob listened intently. As he did, he also frowned.

      “What is it?” Annja asked.

      Gregor looked back at her. “What we saw last night in the woods.”

      “That thing?”

      Gregor shook his head. “It is not a thing. It is called Khosadam.”

      “Khosadam?” Annja glanced at Bob.

      Gregor gestured for them to come closer. “It hunts. It stalks this village,” he said.

      Annja shook her head. “How do they know?”

      Gregor pointed at the ground, and several of the villagers stepped back. Annja looked and there in the mud she saw the tracks of what looked to be human feet.

      “So? Someone was out here walking around barefoot.”

      Gregor shook his head. “Look closer.”

      Annja knelt and studied the tracks. The footsteps showed six toes.

      Gregor’s voice was subdued. “You know many people that have six toes, Annja Creed?”

       8

      “This is insane,” Annja said. “A couple of six-toed footprints and people are losing their minds? It doesn’t make any sense.”

      Gregor led them back toward the town. “Then what would you call it? You said yourself you have never seen things like this before.”

      “I’d start by looking for someone who is suffering from frostbite,” Annja said. “Walking around in subzero temperatures without shoes on might even get them gangrene.”

      Gregor stopped. “This is not a joking matter, Annja. These villagers take this very seriously. The idea that Khosadam is stalking this area has them very frightened. And rightfully so. Khosadam is not something to dismiss so easily.”

      “I’m not dismissing it per se,” Annja said. She just didn’t think that it was possible to get so upset over something so seemingly trivial. She’d seen plenty of things far worse and not been half as concerned as some of those villagers.

      “And what about what we saw last night?” Gregor asked. “You are thinking that was nothing special, as well?”

      “I don’t know what I saw last night,” Annja said. She looked at Bob. “Got anything to add to this craziness?”

      Bob shrugged. “I told you last night that Gregor has never steered me wrong. If he says something is amiss, then we’d be fools to think otherwise.”

      Annja sighed. “So, what is this Khosadam thing, anyway?”

      “She’s a Siberian goddess,” Bob said.

      “As