Cold Fear

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Cold Fear Page 18

by Mads Peder Nordbo


  At that moment he heard a shot coming from the hall. Then Malik shouted. Something collapsed onto the floor. Something was shoved against the wall. Then there was silence.

  Matthew raised the rifle. He stood with the butt pressed hard against his shoulder and the barrel pointing forward. He was breathing in short gasps. He jerked his upper body around so the barrel pointed in different directions.

  ‘Rakel?’ he called out, and jumped at the sound of his own voice.

  There was crunching near the door to the hall.

  ‘Stop,’ Matthew croaked. His voice was close to failing him. The muscles in his throat contracted, preventing him from swallowing. He imagined Malik and Rakel lying wounded in the hall. ‘I have a loaded gun…Who is it?’

  There was more crunching in the dirt on the floor; Matthew aimed the rifle at the ceiling and fired.

  The shot echoed in his ears and a brief silence followed. Then the noises from the hall resumed. It sounded as if someone was lifting a heavy object.

  ‘I’ll fire again,’ Matthew said in a loud voice.

  The sounds of scrambling continued, and moments later another shot was fired. Matthew heard the bullet hit the wall behind him. He threw himself onto the floor and lay very still. He listened to the night and the sounds from the hall. The rifle rested heavy against his shoulder.

  Some minutes later the hall fell quiet. He heard someone walk across the frozen grass. The footsteps sounded far heavier this time. And clumsy.

  Then there was silence.

  Matthew rolled onto his back. The floor crunched underneath him when he turned onto his side and got to a standing position. The tears were running down his cheeks. He found the wedding ring in his pocket and slipped it back on his finger. Then he closed his eyes and inhaled deep into his lungs a couple of times. The air in the room tasted moist and dusty. Even now that the temperature was below freezing. He walked towards the hall. Slowly and taking short footsteps.

  There was a cold draught coming from the front door. Matthew found his mobile and used it to light his way across the room and out through the broken door. There was blood on the floor, the walls and the concrete step outside the door, but it was nowhere near as disconcerting as in the grey house.

  He switched off his mobile and stepped carefully outside. It was a starry night with a slim crescent moon. There were dragging trails in the grass and snow. The snow had been compressed and the grass broken in a track that led down to the sea.

  Matthew followed the trail.

  Down by the laundry he could see a faint light. It could be from a lamp or from an iPhone close to the window.

  It took him a few minutes to walk down there. The light kept flickering in the darkness immediately outside the laundry.

  He walked very carefully. Even so the frozen blades of grass sounded like branches snapping under his feet.

  43

  The laundry was just as empty as before. However, there was now a bit of blood on the floor and one of the tall cupboards in the drying room had been pulled out. Matthew had previously tried shifting them, but they hadn’t budged. The row of slim cupboards took up the whole of the wall.

  There was a faint track in the dirt across the rough concrete floor. Dragging tracks, just like outside.

  Matthew crossed the room and grabbed the cupboard that had been pulled out with one hand, holding the rifle in the other. Behind the cupboard door there was an arrangement of rails, and it was clear that the cupboards could be moved along on them. There was a metal crossbar inside each cupboard so you could dry clothes the full depth of the cupboard.

  The cupboard door didn’t look like it could be moved, but it was open enough for him to climb inside. Once inside, it was spacious and at the back there was a ventilation shaft whose grate had been removed from the wall and set down below it.

  The light he had been able to see from outside was coming from the hole where the grate had been fixed.

  He held the rifle in front of him and inched towards the shaft while holding his breath, as much as that was possible.

  A faint noise broke the silence. It sounded like footsteps coming closer. From a basement. Down the shaft.

  Matthew retreated one step and kept the rifle firmly against his shoulder. He could hear someone start to climb up a ladder or some steps. The light flickered. A body must be blocking the source of the light. Matthew steadied his breathing. He aimed the rifle at the shaft.

  A hand appeared on the bottom edge of the shaft; fingers scrambling to get a hold. A second hand appeared.

  Matthew’s fingers tightened around the weapon and his forefinger shook lightly over the trigger.

  A head appeared and he pulled the trigger.

  ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Rakel screamed, taking cover below the wall. ‘It’s me, you moron.’

  Matthew let the rifle fall along his body. He was shocked.

  ‘Right, I’m coming back up,’ she called out. ‘Hold your fire.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Matthew said through a short breath. He furrowed his brow and shook his head. He could see that she was on the verge of tears. ‘I’m sorry…But what the hell are you doing down there?’

  ‘It’s Malik,’ Rakel said in a thick voice. ‘Come on down.’

  Matthew engaged the safety catch on the side of the rifle, securing it, and went over to the shaft. ‘What happened?’

  ‘That big bastard got him.’

  Matthew looked over the edge of the shaft and immediately saw Malik lying on the floor below. He struggled to keep his voice under control. ‘Is he dead?’

  Rakel shook her head. ‘Not yet…’

  ‘Is there anything we can do?’ Matthew said as he climbed down the ladder, which was built into the wall.

  ‘I’ve done what I could,’ Rakel said. ‘He received a heavy blow to the top of his back. I think he has cracked a rib and punctured a lung.’ She looked up. Tears welled up in her eyes. ‘There’s nothing more we can do here.’

  Matthew knelt down besides Malik. ‘He seems totally out of it.’

  She nodded. ‘We have to get him to Nuuk or he won’t make it.’

  ‘What the hell is this place?’ Matthew said, looking nervously down a long, grey concrete corridor. The only thing breaking up the corridor were the naked lightbulbs illuminating it. ‘Are they here?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Rakel said.

  He looked at her. One side of her face was red and swollen. One eye half-closed due to the swelling. ‘Was it the same guy who hit you?’

  ‘I don’t know whether there was one man or two; it all happened so fast. I think they have my gun. I woke up down here next to Malik a moment ago.’ She looked at Malik, who was lying very still on the concrete floor in the recovery position. She buried her face in her hands. ‘We’re all going to die.’

  Matthew got up and hugged her. He could feel her pressing herself against his shoulder and body.

  ‘I really want to go home,’ she sobbed. ‘My kids have no one but me.’

  ‘I know.’ Matthew kissed her hair lightly. ‘We’ll get out. I promise.’ He could hear that she was crying. ‘Did you see the man who attacked you?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, but he was tall.’

  ‘If it’s Bárdur, his boat must be up there somewhere or he couldn’t be on this side of the fjord now.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ she said in a raw voice, moving away from Matthew. She dried her eyes. ‘I don’t know about that, but what I do know is that Arnaq and her friends are down here. We searched that town twenty times at least since they disappeared, and there’s no trace of them above ground, but down here…I’ve never heard a word about this bunker.’ She looked down the corridor. ‘Because they also dragged Malik and me down here.’

  Matthew stared down the corridor as well. ‘We have to call for help now.’

  ‘You can’t call for help here…You know that just as well as I do.’

  ‘I have to. I’ll think of something…What will you
do?’

  She shook her head. ‘Malik can’t be left alone. Give me the rifle so I can defend us if they return before you come back.’

  Matthew handed her the rifle. ‘I’ll go back up and see what I can find.’

  She closed her eyes and breathed heavily a couple of times. ‘We have to get out of here,’ she said. ‘We really do.’ She looked at him and nodded grimly. ‘I’ll check if there’s another exit close by. There has to be something other than that ladder.’

  ‘Yes, do that. I’ll climb up and check the shore.’

  The darkness closed around him as he walked down towards the quay with the empty warehouses. He had been inside them many times now, including earlier today. The muscles in his arms were tense and he was sweating although the night was full of frost.

  He took a deep drag on his cigarette and saw the tip light up in the darkness. He took another deep drag, but there wasn’t the slightest calm to be found in the smoke, and there was no sign of a boat anywhere.

  Arnaq and Tupaarnaq were being held somewhere in the corridors under the abandoned town, and given the state Malik was in, they couldn’t afford to wait for help to arrive of its own accord. They had to summon help now, and so loudly that it could be heard across the fifty kilometres of uninhabited mountains between them and Nuuk.

  He picked up a jerry can inside the door to the first warehouse. He knew that many old ten-litre jerry cans full of oil lay scattered around.

  His hands were shaking as he splashed oil onto the wood of the old building. He tossed aside the jerry can and found an old cloth, which he dipped in oil and then ignited. Once the flames got a good hold of the cloth, he threw it at the oil-soaked wood. Soon flames were licking the high wall.

  He set fire to the rest of the warehouses, one after the other, until all of the hundred-metre-long wooden quay was ablaze.

  The quay itself went up like a massive wick. The flames reached thirty to forty metres up in the air, and the heat was so intense that he had to walk in a curve in order to return to the laundry.

  The whole of Færingehavn was now lit with a violent, bright orange glow. Just before Matthew went back inside the laundry, he saw a building not far from the quay catch fire, ignited by the heat and the thousands of sparks in the air.

  44

  The heat from the burning quay was intense even as far away as the laundry. Everything was orange. The light flickered and the roar of the fire was so loud that Matthew could hear nothing else. The snow had melted in a big radius around the quay and the grass was burning in several places.

  He looked at the laundry and placed his hand on the peeling boards. They felt warm. Two houses close to the quay had also caught fire and were now engulfed in flames.

  Matthew entered the laundry. It was warmer inside than out, the heat had started to rise and there was an acrid smell. He hurried through the first room to the drying cupboards. Together he and Rakel had to get Malik out.

  ‘It’s me,’ he called out. The blaze sounded just as loud behind the cupboards. ‘We need to get Malik outside…I’ve set fire to everything.’

  He looked down the shaft, but saw only an empty floor. There was no trace of Malik or Rakel. He climbed down to get a better look. There was nothing to see.

  The light was still on. Above him he could hear the roar of the flames through the shaft. The walls were cold. He could feel that the long, underground corridor had been blasted out of the bedrock. The air was dry. Stuffy, but without any moisture. Just dry and dusty.

  Matthew kept a hand on the wall as he walked along the corridor. It was quiet. He regretted not bringing a rock or a club of some kind. If he encountered someone, he had nothing with which he could defend himself. He had expected Rakel and the rifle to be there, but now he was vulnerable.

  The corridor split in two and he continued down the right-hand one. Shortly afterwards doors began to appear on both sides. Some were peeling wood, other were made from iron. Most were locked, but there were few places where he could get in.

  There was one room that looked like a doctor’s consulting room, and another that looked to be a bedroom. Sparsely furnished with a seventies couch, cupboards and a sink with a round mirror above it. There were some clothes in the room, and the bed was made up with clean linen. The room smelt as if somebody slept in there, but for now it was empty.

  Further down the corridor there was an open door, which led to a smaller room with two iron doors on the same wall. Both doors were locked from the outside with bolts and sturdy handles.

  Even before he reached the far side of the room, he spotted a pink backpack by one of the doors. There was something on top of the backpack—when he got closer, he could see that it was a smashed mobile.

  He began to pull at the handle frantically and pushed the bolt aside. The door gave and rattled. The air behind reeked of urine and ammonium, and he was forced to cover his nose and mouth.

  It was dark behind the door, but he could make out a figure lying on the floor near a wall. He jumped over an upended bucket and a tray of something that looked like ribs and knelt down beside the figure. He grabbed her shoulder and pressed his ear close to her mouth and nose to hear if she was breathing, but he couldn’t hear anything. He pinched her ear. Twisted her earlobe.

  She opened her eyes and started to cry when she saw him. There were no movements. Just her tears and some faint sounds from her throat.

  ‘I’m here now,’ Matthew said. ‘I’m taking you home…Are you able to stand up?’ He touched her cheek gently. ‘Are you able to walk?’

  She shook her head. Very faintly, but enough for him to see it.

  He nodded. ‘I just need to check next door, then I’ll be back.’

  Her eyes shone with fear.

  ‘I’ll be back,’ he said. ‘I promise…I think there might be someone there who can help us.’

  Arnaq’s eyes looked right through him. ‘One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…’ she whispered to herself.

  Matthew rushed outside and tried the next door. Even while he was pushing the bolt aside, he could hear life in there and as soon as he got the door open, he saw Tupaarnaq.

  ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been more pleased to see you,’ she said. ‘Do you know the way out? Are you alone? What happened?’

  ‘I’ve no idea what this place is,’ he said, looking into the room.

  She pushed him back a little and closed the door behind her. ‘There’s nothing to see in there.’

  He glanced at the cut to her temple. It was superficial. Mostly an elongated swelling.

  ‘The bastard got me.’ She touched the swelling gently, then looked about her. ‘Are you alone?’

  ‘Yes, I came with Rakel and Malik, but I think they’ve both been taken.’ He could hear his voice break. ‘Given the state Malik was in, dragging him around could kill him.’

  ‘Shit,’ Tupaarnaq said. ‘There’s just the two of us…And they’ve got my rifle.’

  ‘Rakel had your rifle,’ Matthew said. ‘But she’s gone.’ He glanced up towards the ceiling. He should never have left Rakel and Malik alone.

  Tupaarnaq looked at him. ‘Do you know the way out?’

  ‘Yes, but we need to take Arnaq.’

  ‘You found her?’

  ‘She’s lying in the next room, but she’s not strong enough to walk on her own…She’s very weak.’

  Tupaarnaq clenched her fists and ran to Arnaq in the adjacent cell.

  Matthew hurried after her. ‘It looks as if they’ve been starving her, but there’s some meat in there, so…’

  At the same moment they heard noises from the corridor. Footsteps and shouting.

  Tupaarnaq grabbed Matthew.

  Bárdur’s voice echoed in the front room, and before Matthew and Tupaarnaq had reached the door, Bárdur and Símin had arrived.

  Tupaarnaq picked up the metal bucket, but Bárdur floored her with a single punch before she managed to attack him.

  The next moment Matthew was
pushed over and his head smashed against the concrete floor before he had time to cushion the fall. He could feel the rough floor press against his skin while the blow and the pain made him black out.

  THE ESCAPE

  45

  FÆRINGEHAVN, WEST GREENLAND, 17 APRIL 1990

  ‘This can’t go on.’ Tom looked sharply at the thin man with the black hair. His face was just as pinched and tight as always. Demonic in so many ways, but no longer quite so frightening. Tom had managed to find a weakness in Abelsen: he lost control when he was high.

  Abelsen rubbed his chin. ‘So all you’ve been doing these last two days is hiding out, is that it?’

  ‘Yes, what else was I supposed to do? Kill him?’

  Abelsen smiled scornfully. ‘Good luck with that.’

  ‘Anyone can die.’

  ‘Aha, you know my motto.’

  ‘Jesus Christ…Come on, you need to see how they live.’ Tom got up and glared at Abelsen. ‘It can’t carry on.’

  ‘Live? What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean that brute Bárdur.’ Tom threw up his hands. ‘This whole place is crazy. He rapes that woman you actually admit giving to him…she’s chained to the wall! And what about the little girls? Solva and Kristina?’

  The corners of Abelsen’s mouth moved and he raised his eyebrows in an expression of indifference.

  ‘Seriously, we have to put a stop this!’ Tom raged. ‘I mean, do you even know what’s going on here?’

  ‘Mankind,’ Abelsen said, as he craned his neck and looked pensively at the ceiling, ‘has grown so weak. Everything comes at a price, Tom. A hundred years ago progress always took priority over the individual. Building a bridge, a canal or creating a new industry cost human lives. People knew that, and they were willing to pay the price. It was what made Europe great. But look at us now!’

  ‘What the hell does that have to do with Mona and the girls?’

  ‘The girls are fine,’ Abelsen said blithely, getting up. ‘I often visit them myself.’

  ‘You do what?’

 

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