Paul Kohler - The Borrowed Souls, A Novel

I scanned the headlines, which sounded somewhat familiar. A number of them spoke about eyewitnesses of a man in a blue suit with matching hat, in relation to various mysterious deaths. But many of the clippings were from foreign newspapers. “I can only read half of these, Hauser. What do they all say?”

“They’re all pretty much the same. Just different locations. Our man Enoch has been a busy boy. Until recently I wasn’t completely sold on the idea that he was in fact murdering innocent people. But after your last soul collection, all bets are off.”

“If I am the first soul collector to have the ability to be seen and heard by those still living, how are the reports of Enoch being seen even possible?” I asked.

“That’s the question of the century, Jack. I’ve been told that Whitman’s lab had been working on the enhanced abilities that you have now for quite some time. It was my understanding that they were still a good deal away from completing their objective. The only thing that we can surmise is that Enoch himself has been working on the same technology, or he has someone on the inside helping him out.”

“A mole?” I gasped. “I’d never imagined there would be so much cloak and dagger going on in the afterlife.”

“Yeah, well, the Sentinel completely missed the character markers with Enoch. They usually do a much better job at recruiting.”

“So what have you learned from all of this?” I gestured at the news printings.

“With each new sighting, I would jump to the location and do my own research. Obviously, by the time each of these made print, I was far too late to attempt a capture of Enoch. But I still went to each one. There were a few times though that Enoch stuck around to watch the reactions of the public. And on more than one occasion, I was able to chase after him. I was close enough to catch his scent, but he was far too clever. He would lead me into hazardous locations, catching me off guard. If I wasn’t quick enough to transport away in time, I would’ve died a long time ago. After one too many close calls, it was decided that a direct pursuit of Enoch was forbidden until we had a better plan worked out.”

“And now we do,” I said, taking a seat on Hauser’s sofa.

Hauser sat across from me and looked at me thoughtfully. “So how are we going to save Penelope’s soul?

“Well, I suppose we should first start by getting close to her, finding out what it is that makes her who she is. Find out what is triggering her suicidal tendencies.”

“That might be easier said than done,” Hauser said. “Despite what the Sentinel thinks, your new abilities may prove to be more of a hindrance than anything else. I think we’re going to have to do a tag-team reconnaissance on this one, and limit you to personal interaction only.”

I sat up. “We’re going to split up? Is that wise with Enoch on the prowl?”

“I don’t expect Enoch to be knocking on Penelope’s door anytime soon. For all we know, he has no idea that you have a new soul to collect. Also, at this point there are only the two of us, and the Sentinel, that know we will even attempt to save her soul. It might be a number of weeks before he comes out of the woodwork, but—”

“But he also might have that mole in the Sentinel that you mentioned. He might be at her place right now.”

Hauser nodded thoughtfully. “Precisely why we need to split up. But first, I think we need to talk about the injectors that Whitman gave us,” Hauser said as he pulled two cylindrical devices from his inside pocket. “I’m actually surprised he was able to create something so quickly.”

Hauser handed me one of the pen-shaped devices. “It looks like one of those epinephrine pens that are used for asthma attacks or allergic reactions.”

“That’s precisely what it is. While you were visiting the mind control specialist, Walt told me that in the rush we were in, he had to use an actual EpiPen and modify it for our purposes.” Hauser removed the cap to demonstrate its use. “All we have to do is stab the black end of the pen somewhere on his body. It will inject some microscopic tracking dots into his body. It’ll be impossible for him to hide after that.”

“And Walt was able to devise these… nanites that quickly?” I asked, skeptical.

“He has a number of science geeks working with him, and they can sometimes pull off miracles,” Hauser said as he recapped his pen. “Now, let’s go over everything once again, and then I’ll go track down Penny.”

When we arrived back in New York, Hauser dropped us in a dingy alleyway just off of Forty-Third Street.

“With your new ability of being visible, I think it best that we only travel to and from vacant areas,” Hauser said as he began to move toward the end of the alley.

I fell into stride next to him, ignoring the putrid smell emanating from the nearby dumpsters. “That makes sense. Where is it that we’re going, though?”

“It’s a community center about a block away. After I tracked down where Penelope lives—incidentally, she goes by Penny—I was able to utilize Wilson’s, er, I mean your rosary, to see ahead to this point.”

“Does she work at the community center, maybe as a volunteer?” I asked.

“Not exactly,” Hauser said, shaking his head. Penny is… confused. She’s here at a support group for depression.”

“That makes sense. I would probably be a little depressed as well if I had recently lost a newborn.”

“So this doesn’t bother you?” Hauser asked.

“No, should it?”

“Well, considering how you left your life, I would assume that…”

“Are you sure that she’s going to try to kill herself?” I asked.

“All of the signs say yes. No, I haven’t seen her death, yet. But in addition to her depression, her soul has been in flux from the moment I found her in her apartment. Much like it was at the hospital, when she lost her child.”

“Calvin. Don’t remind me,” I said.

“Well? Are you going to be okay?”

I sighed. “Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?” I said. “Besides, I’m here to convince her not to die. I’m here to help her continue living. That is something I can be on board with.”

“Just remember, sport, Penny here is purely bait. Your intentions, no matter how sincere, are only present to lure Enoch out into the open. You’re not actually going to be able to save her,” Hauser said, stopping at the end of the alley to look me in the eye.

“Yeah, okay. I got it. I’m not gonna save her soul,” I said in a monotone.

“All right. I think we’re ready to go in, then.”

We stepped from the alley and onto the open sidewalk. Hauser was walking a little faster than normal, and I increased my speed in an attempt to match his pace. Before I knew it, I walked right into the back of another pedestrian. The collision nearly knocked me to the ground.

“Hey, buddy, why don’t you watch where you’re going,” said the stranger before stomping off down the street.

After regaining my composure, I looked up and found Hauser staring back at me, smiling ear to ear. “Wow, having to relearn how to interact with society has to be a real bitch,” he said.

I chuckled, trying to hide my embarrassment. I was actually surprised how quickly I’d lost the ability to interact with other people. Since entering the afterlife all those months ago, I rarely gave it a second thought when walking around or through the living.

“I guess I need to regain some manners,” I said.

“At the very least,” Hauser said. “This way, compadre.”

Hauser looked both ways before crossing into the street. I followed in his footsteps, verifying that he wasn’t foolishly luring me into a dangerous situation. He glanced back at me just as I looked up and down the street, and then chuckled. “What? You think I would actually put you in harm’s way?” he asked.