Yet another couple of SWAT vehicles came bouncing along the field in the direction of the gates. One pulled up next to them, and the front window wound down.
‘Hey you! You’re not allowed to be here!’
Flora stared at the gates. The dead were pouring out now, in the direction of the road, toward the city.
‘For Chrissake,’ came a voice from inside the vehicle. ‘Jump in. Now!’
Flora looked at Elvy and for a couple of seconds they were able to share each other’s thoughts. Elvy’s great shame that she hadn’t understood, that she hadn’t done what she was supposed to. She didn’t care what happened to her, she was old and this was her last chance to put something right. As for Flora, she knew that she would never be able to return to a normal life after that second inside Death.
They had to try.
They took a step away from the SWAT vehicle toward the dead, but at that moment a side door opened and a couple of officers jumped out and grabbed them.
‘Are you deaf? You’re not allowed here!’
They were manhandled onto the bus, turned over to more waiting arms that received them, held onto them. The door was pulled shut and locked. The armoured vehicle backed up a couple of metres, until the police officer next to the driver said, ‘Take it once around.’
The driver asked what he meant and the man next to him gestured in a
circular motion at the horde of dead people approaching the car. The driver understood what he was getting at, gave a snort and stepped on the gas.
There was a clang of metal as they hit the dead, who were thrown wide by the vehicle ploughing through them. Through the side window, Flora saw the ones who had been hit stand up again.
She held her hands over her ears, sagged into Elvy’s lap, but she felt the thud through her body whenever the car hit dead flesh.
It is over, she thought. It is over.
The Sea of Aland 23.30
Anna didn’t care where they were. There were no islands in sight; even the Soderarrn lighthouse had disappeared below the horizon and they were floating down a silvery moon-river on an endless sea. The island of Aland was out there somewhere, and Finland beyond that, but these were names without significance. They were at sea; just at sea.
Light waves were clucking against the hull. Elias lay by her side. Everything was as it should be and if it was not, it no longer mattered. They were beyond, outside. They could go on floating for ever.
The sound that broke the silence was so wrong that at first Anna took it as a cosmic joke bestowed by the night: Eine kleine Nachtmusik, in an ugly electronic tone. She dug the cell phone out from under the blanket. Even though she had brought it in case of a situation like this, it seemed impossible that anyone could reach her out here: there was nothing here.
For a moment she was about to throw it overboard, the sound was so irritating. Then she came to her senses and pressed the talk button.
‘Yes?’
A voice buzzing with tension on the other end. Or else it was simply that the reception was bad.
‘Hello, my name is David Zetterberg. I’m trying to reach Gustav Mahler.’
Anna looked around. The light from the display had disturbed her night vision and she could no longer distinguish the line between sea and sky; they were hovering in space.
‘He’s… not here.’
‘You’ll have to excuse me, I have to talk to someone. He had a grandchild who… there is something I have to say.’
‘You can say it to me.’
Anna listened to David’s story, thanked him and turned off the phone. Then she sat there for a long time looking at Elias, pulled him up into her lap and laid her forehead against his.
Elias… I’m going to tell you something.…
She felt that Elias was listening. She related what she had just
been told.
You don’t have to be afraid…
His voice echoed in her head: Are you sure?
Yes. I’m sure. Stay here until…. until it’s time. Inside of me.
Through the blankets she felt his body slump together, becoming
dead weight. He went into her.
Mummy? What’s it like there?
I don’t know. I think you are…. light. Do you think you can fly?
Maybe. Yes, I think so.
A whining sound, intensifying, carried over the water, as if a ferry were approaching, but the only light came from the moon and the stars. The whining grew stronger, drawing closer, and Anna changed her mind. She had Elias with her, he was inside her again as he had been when he began, and she was no longer willing to give him up. At the moment she thought this, she felt Elias start to pull away from her.
No, no, my love. Stay. Stay. I’m sorry. Mummy, I’m
frightened.
Don’t be afraid. I’m here with you.
The whining was in the dinghy now. From the corner of her left eye she saw a shadow slide across the moon. Something was sitting on the thwart. She could not look there.
Mummy, will we see each other again soon? Yes, my love.
Soon.
Elias was about to say something else, but his speech was going, becoming weaker as a white caterpillar broke free from his chest and a clump of
darkness reached out from where it was seated. At the very end of the clump there was a hook.
Anna cupped her hand around the caterpillar and picked it up, holding it there for a couple of seconds.
I will think of you always. Then she let him go.
The thought, so delicate, as hopeful as the northward journey of the light across the sky
in soft streaks like snail trails
or mussels sensing the bottom of the sea in the chest, mouth, hands
the heart, the beating heart
the cry of the brain.
MIA AJVIDE Cries of Flight
John Ajvide Lindqvist
***
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Handling The Undead Page 32