by C S Duffy
‘Mia, go and sit down on that chair,’ he said softly, in his normal voice.
She frowned at him, a flicker of uncertainty playing on her face.
‘Sit down, Mia,’ he repeated, more firmly.
‘Johan, grab her!’ I hissed urgently.
‘Mia, it’s going to be okay. Ellie is going to phone the police and you are —’
A flash of metal glinted in the candlelight. Johan roared with pain, his face contorted —
Blood splattered on the floor —
I scrabbled to my feet —
She had an axe.
She swung for him again —
‘Mia, no —’ I screamed.
Johan’s shoulder was spurting blood, but he lunged for Mia even as he staggered to his knees —
I whirled around, reached blindly for the wrought iron poker set hanging by the fireplace.
Johan grabbed for the axe and Mia stumbled, righted herself, wrenched the axe from his grasp — a horrifying clunk resounded as she got the side of Johan’s head, this time with the blunt edge —
He grunted as he slumped over.
I ran wildly, rugby tackled her to the floor that was slick with Johan’s blood —
Wildly flailed to punch her — got her ear — her shoulder —
For fuck’s sake I was shit at this.
At least I had her on the ground. I was straddling her, one of her arms pinned under my knee. She thrashed around but she couldn’t quite shift my weight.
I silently thanked all those takeaways.
Johan stirred. He wasn’t out cold. He was alive.
I heard the distant siren of a police boat approaching.
Oh thank fuck.
The relief weakened me, just for a second, but Mia wiggled free —
Shit —
I grabbed for her but she’d scrabbled to her feet, ran out the door —
‘My boat — she’ll get away —’ Johan gasped.
I ran after her.
The night was still and silent, the darkness as thick as a shroud.
As I raced out into the garden, I crashed right into the motherfucking shitheaded arsewipe picnic table where we’d had our Midsummer dinner. Screaming in fury, I kicked the chair out my way and was rewarded by a resounding thwack to my knee.
There was no sign of Mia.
I could still hear the faint sirens, but even from the top of the hill I couldn’t yet see any approaching lights.
I paused. Listening, for footsteps, the sound of the boat engine starting, any sign of her. All I could hear was the Baltic gently lapping against the rocks below.
The beach, I thought. That’s where the boat must be. She would be headed there.
I put my hands out in front of me and gingerly moved forward, trying to orientate myself.
If the cottage was behind me, then the path was to my right. I started to move carefully, slowly but steadily, keeping my ears peeled for the sound of the boat.
Finally I felt the gritty sand of the path beneath my feet. I took another step and skidded, righted myself, my heart thudding. The path was narrow and steep, the rocks below it sharp.
Finally the police lights appeared in the distance, the sharp blue glow piercing the darkness. Relief trembled through me, but they were still far away.
And Mia was near.
I could hear her breathing.
I couldn’t see my hands in front of my face, but I could feel her.
I held my breath, braced myself for the poker to come flying out the darkness at me —
And then I heard something else.
A crackle. A crash.
Suddenly it wasn’t dark any more.
Long flames licked the side of the cottage, the air filled with smoke.
The candles.
Johan.
A shadow caught the corner of my eye as I turned and raced back to the cottage. Mia?
I grabbed for the door handle and screamed, my hand immediately started to blister —
I kicked at the door instead and it fell open, half off its hinges already —
A billow of smoke burst through the doorway, followed by flames —
I shoved my T shirt over my head, vaguely recalling a fireman at my school telling us to cover our faces with a wet cloth. Well I didn’t have any water now, this would have to do. I fell to my knees and shimmied forward on my forearms.
The floorboards were blistering, the pain in my hand and battered knee searing as I dragged myself ever forward.
Johan hadn’t been far from the door. He’d collapsed just by the entrance to the little kitchen. I had to be near him — but every time I waved my arm wildly in front of me it met only air.
‘Johaaannnnnn’ I screamed desperately, a sob of terror breaking over me.
Finally I reached out and there he was. Slumped, unconscious. A dead weight. Holy fuck how was I going to move him?
There was an almighty crash as something in the cottage collapsed. A wall, the roof, who knew, but it gave the flames a burst of energy. My eyes were watering, the heat unbearable. The fire was inches from Johan.
Grimacing against the pain from my throbbing knee, I got myself into a crouching position, somehow managed to hitch my forearms under his armpits. His T shirt was soaked through with blood, rapidly hardening in the heat of the fire, and his head lolled horribly. I gritted my teeth and pulled with all my might.
I screamed and collapsed beneath him. I’d yanked him about a foot, but it was a foot closer to the door and a blast of icy air greeted me. I could do this. Just another couple of yanks. I shuffled my bum backwards, then used my entire upper body to shift us backwards, crying out from the strain. Somehow, we moved a tiny bit more. There was another crash and a huge flame leaped forward —
With a desperate scream I shuffled again, and again, and finally we were on the porch. The grass. I had to get us to the grass. We weren’t safe until we got onto the grass.
But I couldn’t. Howling with terror and helplessness I tried again, but every cell in my body was drained, zinging with pain and exhaustion and fear. I buried my face in his shoulder, breathing in that familiar scent of him as I sobbed.
Then the wind splattered a gust of icy rain over us and it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever felt. The porch sizzled, the fire receded to resentful embers and I felt Johan stir. The sirens were deafening and the blinding light of a police torch shone in my eyes.
Johan’s hand fluttered and he shifted.
‘Now you bloody wake up, you lazy sod,’ I half laughed, half cried.
He reached up with his good arm and stroked my hair.
‘So how do you like Sweden so far?’ he murmured.
50
‘They won’t let us in after visiting hours,’ Krister said, his eyes wide and frightened.
‘Oh they will,’ I grinned breezily, lacing up my trainers as best I could with one hand. My burned hand was bandaged, my knee still stiff and generally everything ached and throbbed. ‘I made friends with one of the nurses yesterday, and she said she’d sneak me in if need be.’
‘Why do you have to break all the rules all the time?’ he asked, but there was a chuckle in his voice.
‘I don’t really know,’ I replied honestly. ‘It’s kind of my thing.’
I leaned heavily on Krister’s arm as we walked across Södermalm to the hospital where Johan was recovering. Where he used to work. Where he would again soon now Mia’s tampering had come to light.
The first night, my nurse buddy let me spend the whole evening curled in the armchair next to Johan’s bed, holding his hand as he drifted in and out of consciousness.
He had inhaled a lot of smoke, in addition to the blow to the head. They’d managed to stitch his shoulder back together, though he wouldn’t be playing cricket in a hurry. His concussion was mild but the smoke damage to his heart and lungs had been touch and go, and I’d refused to leave his side, willing him to get better or I’d bloody kill him.
By the eveni
ng, he had stabilised and was sleeping when Corinna knocked on the doorframe and burst into tears. She had provided the police with copies of the maps and they had found the bunker and Mia’s lab of horrors.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered. ‘It was when I read about Liv’s death — I thought I had got it all wrong and I called Mia. I will never forgive myself.’
‘At least you called the police as well,’ I said.
‘I’ve known her for so many years, I just couldn’t quite believe —’
‘Don’t be too hard on yourself. I’ve only known her a few months and she was the last person I suspected.’
Krister had been snoozing in the other chair by Johan’s bed. I glanced over with a guilty smile, remembering how I’d thought it was him until I’d remembered Mia’s weird claim of tying Johan’s shoelaces on their first day of school. He’d been the perfect shield for her all this time.
He had had no idea of the extent of what she was capable of, but had readily confessed the control she had held over him for years. She kept control of their finances, his phone — half the time Johan thought he was texting Krister it was Mia replying. He was terrified of her.
And nobody knew where she was. I could have sworn I saw her in the garden when the fire started but by the time the police arrived, Johan’s boat was gone and so was she. A huge operation had been combing the archipelago ever since, but she seemed to have disappeared into thin air.
Sure enough, visiting hours were just ending as we finally hobbled into the hospital, but my nurse buddy rolled her eyes and let us into Johan’s room anyway. He was sitting up, looking the brightest I’d seen him yet. Colour was back in his cheeks and his eyes shone as he smiled at me. I leaned over his bed and kissed him, thrilled when he responded and we snogged as Krister made puking noises behind us.
Then a roar emanated from the TV and I realised bloody football was on. Krister yelled in joy and Johan jumped. He pulled back, but held me close so I snuggled against him, feeling the warmth of his chest against my cheek as he cheered his team to victory.
THE END.