by Lars Kepler
Joona forces himself not to put his hand inside his jacket. David Jordan is aiming at his chest, and his finger is on the trigger.
DJ reaches Rex, grabs him from behind and kicks him in the back of the knee so he slumps to the floor. He never takes his eyes off Joona.
‘This is none of your business,’ he says to Joona. ‘If you stay out of it, you’ll get out of here alive.’
Joona nods and holds both hands up in front of him.
‘Take my son with you,’ Rex gasps to Joona. ‘This is between the two of us, we can end it without anyone else here.’
David Jordan pauses for breath, presses the end of the silencer to Rex’s temple and closes his eyes again. Joona reaches his hand out and takes Sammy’s arm. He pulls him towards the front door, slowly and carefully. They pass the table with the rifles and the dark fireplace. David Jordan looks up at them. It almost looks like he’s having trouble staying awake, even though his knuckles on the hand holding the pistol are turning white.
Joona reaches the door and gently pushes the handle down. The killer’s eyes start to close again.
‘Sammy, I love you,’ Rex says to his son.
David Jordan’s eyes immediately snap open and he raises the pistol towards Sammy. Joona yanks Sammy backwards just as the bullet slams into the glass behind them.
They stumble out into the rain and biting wind. Sammy collapses onto the stone deck, and the door is thrown back so hard by a gust of wind that the glass shatters.
Joona drags Sammy to his feet and sees through the flying glass that David Jordan is running across the foyer with his pistol raised in front of him.
‘We have to take cover,’ Joona shouts over the wind, and pulls the boy off to one side.
Water is cascading off the roof, gushing from the overflowing gutters and spraying up from the bottom of the drainpipes.
‘Dad!’ Sammy cries.
Joona drags him past the rocks on the edge of the deck and straight into the bushes. They tumble over the edge, hit the ground and slide down a drenched slope, dragging stones and soil with them.
Sammy lets out a groan as they come to a stop among a thicket of birch saplings.
Joona is already on his feet, and quickly pulls Sammy further away from the hotel. Torrential rain is pouring down on them, forming new streams and carrying off soil and leaves.
They hide beneath the protruding rock-face and hear David Jordan calling out to them.
‘Sammy!’ David Jordan shouts from the edge of the terrace. ‘Your dad’s dying. He needs you.’
The boy is breathing far too quickly, and he tries to sit up. Joona holds him down and sees that his eyes are wide with shock.
‘I have to talk to my dad …’
‘Be quiet,’ Joona tells him.
‘He doesn’t think I care, but I do, and he needs to know that,’ he whispers.
‘He already does,’ Joona says.
The rain is lit up by the light from the windows, and a figure darts across one of the panes. DJ’s footsteps send small stones over the edge of the terrace, and Sammy shakes as they hit the ground in front of them.
But suddenly the footsteps stop.
David Jordan has stopped, and is standing absolutely still, listening, waiting for them to start running and give themselves away. Like rabbits.
114
Saga tries her best, but she doesn’t manage to wake Grace before the doctor reaches the room on her round. She opens the door, turns away from the staff, walks to the cafeteria and pours herself a mug of coffee.
A middle-aged woman with beautiful green eyes stares at her, then shakes her head.
‘It isn’t visiting time,’ she mutters, then starts to pull a muffin to pieces on her lap.
Saga drinks the weak coffee, puts the mug down and takes another look at David Jordan when he was in the military. His eyes and cheekbones look a little like Rex’s, but otherwise they don’t look particularly alike.
She picks up the mug again and takes another sip, then walks around the cafeteria and watches as the staff leave Grace’s room and knock on the next door.
Saga waits a few more seconds, then hurries back inside, closes the door carefully behind her, goes over to Grace and pats her on the cheek.
‘Wake up!’ she whispers.
The woman’s eyelids tremble slightly but remain closed. Saga can hear that her breathing is shallower now, and pats her cheek again.
‘Grace?’
Slowly she opens her heavy eyelids, blinks, and looks up in wonder at Saga.
‘I fell asleep,’ she whispers.
‘You can go back to sleep again soon, but I need to know why you’re so sure that Rex is the father of your son, seeing as he didn’t—’
‘Because I’ve seen the DNA test,’ Grace interrupts, trying to sit up in bed.
‘There was no police investigation,’ Saga says. ‘No samples were taken from you, don’t you remember? You said you’d been in a car accident … you didn’t tell anyone about the rape.’
‘I mean the paternity test,’ she replies.
Saga looks at Grace in surprise, sits down on the edge of the bed, and then suddenly realises what happened thirty years ago.
‘You were seeing Rex before you were raped, weren’t you?’
‘I was stupid. I was in love …’
‘Did you have sex?’
‘We just kissed,’ Grace says, looking at Saga in confusion.
‘Is that really all?’
Grace picks at her nightdress and looks down at the floor.
‘We did it on the meadow behind the school … But, I mean, we stopped before he … you know, the way you can stop things …’
‘That isn’t always enough, as you probably know by now?’
‘But …’
Grace lifts the sleeve of her nightdress to her face and wipes her cheeks and nose.
‘Listen,’ Saga says, ‘Rex was locked up in the stable while you were raped … if he’s the father of your child, then you must have been pregnant before.’
A trace of recognition flits across Grace’s face.
‘He was locked in the stable … Are you sure?’ she asks.
‘Yes, I am. The others beat him and then locked him up. He had no idea what was going on.’
‘Dear God,’ she whispers, and tears start to trickle down her cheeks.
Grace lies back on top of the bed and her mouth opens, but she can’t bring herself to say anything.
‘Do you have a phone?’ Saga asks, patting her hand.
A pane of glass shatters somewhere in the building and an alarm starts to ring in the hall. Saga sees a guard approach along one of the paths.
‘Grace,’ she repeats. ‘I need to know if you have a phone.’
‘We’re not allowed,’ Grace replies.
Something hits the floor hard in a neighbouring room, making the picture on the wall sway.
‘It isn’t visiting time!’ a woman screams through the wall, her voice breaking. ‘It isn’t visiting time!’
Saga leaves the room and is hurrying towards the exit when the heavyset guard comes running around the corner, his keys jangling. He stops when he sees her, breathing hard, then pulls his Taser from his belt.
Without hesitating she heads towards him, yanks a bright-red fire extinguisher off the wall and marches on with long strides.
The guard stares at her, loosens the safety catch of the Taser and starts to walk towards her.
The heavy fire extinguisher is hanging from her hand, and she swings it up into her arms and rushes at him.
‘I need to borrow a phone,’ she says, ramming the base of the extinguisher straight into his chest.
He groans as the air goes out of him, staggers backwards and fumbles for support along the wall as she slams the fire extinguisher into his chest again.
He drops the Taser as he falls, reaching out with his hand and pulling down a picture.
Saga moves with him, kicks low and hits him in the calf, k
nocking his foot out from under him and sending him crashing to the floor. He hits the wall with his shoulder and lands awkwardly on his backside.
‘What the hell?’ he coughs, staring at her in bewilderment.
Saga drops the fire extinguisher, steps between his legs, grabs his head with both hands, pulls it towards her and hits him in the face with her right knee. His head snaps back, spraying beads of sweat. His heavy body follows and he slumps to the floor, inert. He lies there on his back with his arms out and his mouth bleeding.
‘How hard can it be to lend someone your phone?’ Saga pants between breaths.
115
DJ comes back in from the rain, walks through the shattered door, yells something, then throws his pistol at the wall. There’s a crash, and parts of the gun fly across the floor and under the furniture.
Rex is lying on his side and can hardly breathe. His stomach is burning with pain and every movement hurts so much that he’s having to fight not to pass out.
‘What were you doing out there?’ he asks between shallow breaths.
He tries to get up, but lurches forward as his legs buckle beneath him, and he falls to his knees. He’s keeping one hand pressed against the bullet wound. His field of vision contracts for a few moments, then he sees that DJ is putting the leather strap with the rabbits’ ears back on again, and coming towards him with a black knife in his hand. The dangling ears sway with each step.
‘Sammy’s only a child,’ Rex pants.
Pain and shock have left him barely able to understand what’s going on. DJ pushes him forward and he puts both hands down to brace his fall, then feels himself being cut across the back.
His arms give way and he sinks to the floor.
‘You can’t,’ he whimpers as DJ forces him up onto his feet again.
Rex has no idea how deep the cut on his back is – his fear that Sammy might be dead overwhelms everything else. DJ pushes Rex in front of him, through the shattered door and out into the rain.
Rex looks around in horror to see if he can see Sammy’s body on the road down towards the church.
The rain is pouring down on him and his clothes quickly become soaked and cold. He’s clutching his stomach with both hands and can feel warm blood seeping out between his fingers.
The heavy gusts of rain sweep across the driveway.
DJ shoves him forward again and he takes a couple more steps before feeling a dizzying tiredness. Everything around him seems to be moving jerkily.
‘Sammy!’ DJ shouts into the rain.
Rex starts crying with relief when he realises that Sammy is OK, that DJ must have lost track of him in the darkness.
‘Sammy!’ DJ roars, brushing the rabbits’ ears from his face. ‘Take a look at your dad now!’
Rex stumbles forward and tries to speak, but only coughs up blood.
‘Call Sammy,’ DJ commands. ‘Tell him to come out. Tell him you love him, and that everything will be OK as long as he …’
Rex stops at the fork in the driveway. He doesn’t want to be part of this any more. DJ walks around and hits him hard in the face with the handle of the dagger. He staggers but manages to keep his balance and raises his chin.
‘Call Sammy,’ DJ says darkly.
‘Never,’ Rex gasps.
The rain is lashing the air, and the pools of water look like they’re boiling. The old wooden church down in the valley is painted dark red, and looks bloodstained among the white crosses in the churchyard.
‘I get it,’ Rex snarls. ‘I get that you think—’
‘Quiet!’ DJ roars.
‘I didn’t rape—’
‘I’ll cut your throat!’ DJ shrieks.
They can see the blue glow of police cars approaching the hotel from the turn-off on the E10 highway.
‘Sammy!’ DJ shouts.
All Rex can think is that Sammy will be OK, as long as he stays hidden.
‘Keep walking!’ DJ says.
Rex looks him in the eye and then sinks to his knees on the path. He’s had enough.
DJ tries to get him to stand up, hits him across the cheek and yells at him to keep walking. Rex doesn’t move. It doesn’t even hurt as much any more. DJ tugs at him and he sways, but makes no attempt to get to his feet.
He closes his eyes, then opens them, and is just thinking that this is how it ends when he sees a figure through the rain. Someone is walking up the driveway towards them.
Joona has made his way to the driveway and is walking towards the two figures. The ground itself looks like it’s shaking. He knew he had precisely nineteen minutes to save Rex from the moment the bullet hit his stomach.
The murderer has followed the same pattern every time.
There are two minutes left.
Joona knew he would have just enough time to get Sammy out, and then return before David Jordan decides it’s finally time to execute Rex.
Rain is running through his eyebrows and he’s having difficulty seeing. With each step he takes his pistol swings in the holster inside his soaked jacket. He hasn’t yet revealed to DJ the fact that he’s armed.
The Rabbit Hunter grabs Rex by his hair and pulls his head back, but lets the blade of the knife rest on his shoulder. He stares at the man walking towards them, trying to figure out what he could possibly want. Why is he coming back? He must have realised how serious the situation is, and that he should be doing everything he can to get away from them.
The emergency vehicles will be here in five minutes.
That’s fine.
He has time to do what he needs to do. Nothing else matters, he thinks, and looks at his watch.
The symmetry of vengeance is perfect.
Rex spawned his own nemesis during the rape. At the precise moment of the crime, two cells came together to form the life that grew inside Grace’s womb, the embryo that went with her to Chicago, the child that was born in secret and grew up to become a rabbit hunter who, thirty years later, has returned to punish the rapist.
The stranger is striding towards them along the drive.
The rain is pouring down on them, lashing the bushes until they’re almost flattened.
Without any haste, the Rabbit Hunter moves the blade to Rex’s neck and watches as the tall man seems to slow down mid-stride. He unbuttons the last button on his jacket, puts his hand in and pulls out a pistol, then raises it, all in the same fluid, concentrated movement.
The Rabbit Hunter doesn’t have time to react. It’s as if he can’t comprehend, can’t accept that this is happening.
Joona strides through the rain as he shoots David Jordan three times straight in the chest.
The recoil kicks back, and the final white flare of the barrel shimmers in the grey light like a small explosion.
David Jordan is thrown backwards and lands heavily on his back. The sound of the gunshots echoes off the mountains.
Joona walks the last few steps towards the killer with his pistol aimed at him, and kicks the knife away. The rain is still pouring down on them, rebounding off the ground. David Jordan lies on his back, staring up at him.
‘You had a gun the whole time,’ he says in amazement.
Joona sees that the three entry wounds are all in the centre of his chest and knows that David Jordan has no more than a couple of minutes to live.
There’s no hope of saving him.
Water is gushing down the driveway, carrying the blood away with it.
Joona holds the pistol against David Jordan’s forehead as he quickly searches his clothes, then he stands up and puts his pistol back in its holster.
David Jordan coughs up blood and stares up at the black sky. The falling rain gives him a dizzying sense of being carried upward at great speed.
Rex hasn’t moved. He’s still kneeling on the drive. At first he doesn’t want to lie down when Joona tries to help him.
‘Sammy,’ he gasps.
‘Don’t worry, he’s fine,’ Joona says, gently laying Rex down on his side.
; Rex’s lips are white and his body is shaking, as if he has a fever. Joona rips Rex’s shirt open and sees blood seeping from the bullet-hole in his abdomen. One of his kidneys has probably been hit. He’s in serious pain, and will soon go into shock.
Joona’s phone rings. He sees that it’s an American number and guesses it’s Saga. He answers, and says he can’t talk right now.
‘This is important,’ Saga says. ‘I’ve talked to Grace again, and Rex is David Jordan’s father.’
‘But he didn’t take part in the rape,’ Joona says.
David Jordan is lying on his back with his mouth open, but his eyes are still blinking when the raindrops hit them.
The first of the emergency vehicles are driving past the little church, their blue lights sweeping across its dark-red wood.
Joona switches his phone to speaker and puts it down.
‘Did you hear what I said?’ Saga says.
‘Yes,’ Joona replies as he helps Rex to raise his knees slightly to ease the pressure in his blood-filled abdomen.
‘It might not matter any more,’ she says. ‘But David Jordan wasn’t the result of the rape, like he thought – he was actually the fruit of true love.’
Saga goes on talking, but the phone starts to crackle and fade, then her voice vanishes altogether when the screen goes dead.
Rex tries to turn his head to look at DJ, but he doesn’t have the strength. Blood is seeping out between Joona’s fingers and onto the driveway.
Police and paramedics are running towards them now.
DJ has stopped breathing. His face is perfectly calm. Maybe he heard Saga’s words before he died and understood what she was saying.
Joona stands up slowly and starts to walk down the slope. He sees Sammy walk towards the ambulance beside his father. The stone-coloured rain is still battering the valley and lake, and the entire landscape is etched in silver.
Epilogue
Rex walks over to the edge of the swimming pool and looks at the smoke drifting over the teal water. He raises his head and watches the moths flying around the lanterns in the leafy garden.
The fat sizzles as it drips onto the coals, and tiny flames flare up around the thick steaks.
Sammy has set the long table on the deck, and is now blowing up a big, pink inflatable rabbit. Veronica is sitting a short distance away on the hammock, drinking red wine with Umaru, a man she met in Sierra Leone. His nine-year-old daughter comes out through the doors with a bowl of salad.