Long Way Home

by Tom Crown

  Jenny turned to Steve’s computer and touched the keyboard to wake it up again. She opened a photo that Steve must have taken the night before, when Katia had been sleeping on the sofa and he had fallen asleep leaning against the armchair. He focused on Katia’s sleeping face and swallowed hard.

  “I don’t know what you expect from her,” Jenny said, “but you better figure it out fast.”

  Ryan closed his eyes and let the full extent of his mistake wash over him. He had let Alex get inside his head and had barely put up a fight when it mattered the most.

  He got up from the bed and went back to the bathroom door. “Katia?” He knocked again and listened with his ear against the door, but she didn’t reply. “Please. I just want to talk. It’s Ryan.” As if that would help.

  He heard Jenny open the bedroom window and looked over his shoulder. She was leaning out, peering at the bathroom window. He knocked again.

  “Katia?” he said. “Please.”

  Jenny leaned back into the room, shaking her head.

  “What?”

  “The window’s wide open. She’s gone.”

  He didn’t have time for any more questions. He took a step back and slammed his shoulder into the bathroom door, cracking the frame. He slammed into it again and felt the door give way. Stumbling inside, he looked left and right.

  She was gone.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  THE MIDNIGHT SUN shone above the horizon mountains, hovering in stillness beyond the crimson strips of cloud that colored the landscape a dusky red. Katia stood knee-deep in the rushing water, searching for the keys to Ryan’s car as the river gushed around her. The cuts and burns on her skin were visible beneath the flowing edges of her dress, and she hated that she would never be able to forget those scars and how she got them. Not even now. Not even in this river, in the middle of the wilderness, on the edge of existence. Never.

  The water was cold but she didn’t think it was cold enough to be dangerous. The greatest threat here was the slippery stones under her barefoot feet. The rocks were round and smooth and she was afraid of slipping and falling, of hitting her head, and most of all of drowning. She wasn’t afraid of dying, but drowning seemed to be one of the most terrifying ways to do so. And she didn’t want her body to be exposed like it would be in the river, floating in the clear water, ending up someplace she had never seen.

  When she opened the bathroom window and set off across the yard she hadn’t known where to go, but following the river had seemed like the smart thing to do. Steve’s house was on a lake, but Katia had seen on his GPS that it was only one of a string of lakes, all connected by the river, and to get to the car all she had to do was follow the northern shoreline.

  Suddenly she felt something with her fingers and couldn’t believe her luck. The keys. She had actually found them. She grabbed hold with her fingers and burst out laughing. She lifted them with both hands and held them up before her eyes, but then lost them again in her joy. Her eyes followed their descent into the water, and she reached for them again before they slipped away.

  She hurried out of the turbulent water and ran back to the car. The backseat was full of shattered glass, but at least all animals seemed to have stayed away. She got in behind the wheel. The pedals were too far away for her, and the rearview mirror only showed her the ceiling above her head, but a few quick adjustments took care of that. The car had a wide range of controls and instruments that would take her a few moments to figure out, but at least it looked less intimidating than Steve’s Land Rover.

  With the key in the ignition, she started the engine. The fuel meter rose steadily, but then stopped at about a quarter of a tank. She had hoped for more. She had hoped for a few hours before she had to make any major decisions. She checked the fuel meter again, and even tapped it with her finger, but it was stuck in the same place.

  The wet clothes clinging to her skin were making her cold, even more so now sitting down, and she tried several buttons until she managed to turn up the heat. With the airflow warming her she tried to conjure up a plan. She wanted to taste her freedom, even if she knew perfectly well that her escape was just an illusion.

  The first step would be to fill a bottle of water from the river and then drive as far as the tank would take her. Perhaps she could even fill it up somewhere, if she was smart and fast enough. After that she would have to figure something out. She would go south, away from here, away from Lapland, to someplace she had never been before. She couldn’t really picture where, she couldn’t picture anything at all beyond the first couple of hours, and she decided not to think about it.

  The shattered glass in the backseat would be a problem when she got out on the road, or when she tried to stop for gas. People would ask questions, the police might stop her, but there was nothing she could do about that. At least it was night. She had no idea where she would be in the morning. Perhaps she wouldn’t be in this car anymore by then. Perhaps she wouldn’t be anywhere at all.

  She closed her eyes and let the truth sink in: She had nowhere she wanted to go, nowhere she wanted to be.

  The thought changed something inside her. The landscape that had been so beautiful before suddenly became dangerous. All she saw was crushing rock and drowning water.

  She shifted in first gear and took the car slowly toward the river. The cliff was high enough. It would only take a few seconds, then the metal would protect her dead body, wrap itself around it, and keep it from view.

  It was suddenly the only resting place she could picture for herself.

  She raced the engine.

  * * * *

  Jenny ran down the cabin steps out to the Land Rover and saw Steve behind the wheel. She moved around to the passenger side and jumped in.

  “Everybody all right?” he asked, glancing her way as she shut the door. “The girls?”

  “I don’t know. They’re a bit frantic, I guess. They heard Katia run off, so, I don’t know. Where’s Ryan?”

  Steve turned on the engine and released the parking brake. “In the forest, up that hill to the right there.” He eased along, navigating slowly over the gravel. “I’ll just take us up along the road here to have a look. It’s probably where she went. Shortest path from the window to the forest, if you want to get out of sight.”

  Jenny looked out to her right but didn’t see much. Twenty-four hours earlier, she had been sitting next to Ryan in his Volvo, looking out at the people at the camping site. She had recognized almost every single person there, and the ones she hadn’t known had been easy enough to label as German or Norwegian tourists. The next couple of days would have told her to what extent she had been right, seeing them again at the hotel, the grocery store, or one of the gas stations. That’s how predictable life here had been. Life before this weekend. Now she didn’t know anything anymore.

  She glanced at Steve. He was the first man who had really taken her seriously, and he did so not because she had done anything special to deserve it, but because that’s how he was around people. She looked at his face and studied his features. He was concentrating on something on the instrument panel and didn’t notice her spying, and she found that she liked the intent look on his face.

  Then she realized he was monitoring the GPS screen. The map on the screen was showing a symbol that had to be representing Ryan’s car, as far as she could tell from its position near the river, and it was moving.

  “You see that?” Steve said and looked at her. “That’s got to be Katia. It’d be too much of a coincidence if someone else just found the car. It’s got to be her.”

  Jenny looked up toward the forest. “Did Ryan bring his phone?”

  “No idea, but good thinking.” Steve brought out his own phone and dialed. He put the call on speaker, then left the phone on the dashboard.

  Ryan picked up after the first signal.

  “Yeah?” he said, and Jenny could hear him running through the forest.

  “Steve, and Jenny, here,” Steve said, and she
found she kind of liked the sound of that. “We’re looking at a GPS tracker I put on your car.”

  “A what? You what?”

  “Ryan,” Jenny said, “your car is moving.”

  “What?” Ryan asked, still running. “What do you mean? Where are you?”

  “I put a GPS on your car when you parked outside the hotel,” Steve continued. “When you got here. Against the rules of engagement in our line of work, I know, but it wasn’t much use anyway. Until now.”

  Ryan seemed to have stopped. Jenny couldn’t hear him moving anymore. “The car is moving?” he finally asked.

  “Not right now. But it was. It doesn’t have to be Katia, but it’s the most reasonable explanation.”

  Jenny could hear him break into a run.

  “I’ll be right with you,” he said. “I’m less than a minute away.”

  Steve stopped the car, engaged the parking brake, and then put the phone back in his pocket. He kept watching the forest, waiting for Ryan to appear.

  “I should probably stay with the girls,” Jenny said, even though she wanted to go with him, and wanted him to say she should. “It doesn’t seem like a good idea to leave them alone after everything they’ve been through.”

  “Yes,” Steve said. “No. You’re right.”

  “Okay.” Jenny opened her door and got out, and to her surprise saw Steve do the same. He smiled at her and then met her in front of the hood, where he took her hand. The touch was unexpected, but it felt good, and made her warm inside.

  “We’ll only be gone for a little while,” he said, looking into her eyes, making her feel better and better. “Half an hour. Then this will all be over.”

  “Be careful.”

  He nodded.

  Suddenly she heard twigs breaking and branches snapping and looked up to see Ryan running down the hill toward them.

  “I better go,” Steve said and let go of her hand.

  Ryan was already getting in behind the wheel, forcing Steve to circle around to the passenger side. Steve glanced back at her one last time before he ducked inside, and even though he smiled she suddenly thought she saw a flash of something dark in his eyes, something truly dangerous, just as Ryan let go of the clutch and raced away.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  ALEX LEFT HIS stolen Nissan on the side of the road and made no attempt to hide it or wipe away the blood stains as he stumbled away from the door. He was too far gone to care anymore about potential evidence. Behind the wheel, roaring down the narrow forest roads, he had felt momentarily stronger, but now, after standing up and feeling the blood drain from his head, from his entire body, he knew he didn’t have very long left to live.

  All the more reason to finish what he had started.

  Vlad had come through as usual. He wasn’t the bravest man who walked this Earth, nor the strongest or even the most ambitious, but he damn well was the most reliable. Alex hadn’t always appreciated that about his brother. When they were younger, his predictability had looked a lot like weakness, but now, with age and responsibility, Alex had learned to appreciate reliability as just about the most important quality a man could possess. Without it, any planning was futile, and without planning there could be no greatness in this world. And in the end, nothing else mattered.

  The fools he was facing now had connected the laptop to the internet at the very first opportunity, and after that Vlad had easily been able to give him a very specific location. Checking it against a map on his phone he had immediately known it was the right place: A waterfront log house, far from the town center, with no neighbors around. It was a very suitable place for Steve Manning to hide out, ideal for the crimes he had committed, and at the same time a perfectly natural location for the work he claimed to be doing.

  The house was in plain view now, silhouetted against the small lake and the pale sky beyond. He wished he could have brought a rifle. Now all he had was a Glock 17 with a full magazine and a spare, and a short dagger he didn’t feel comfortable using with his weakened grip. He would have to get close to be able to use the gun reliably, and he hoped he wouldn’t encounter Steve Manning too soon. He wanted that man to suffer, and fully realize what was upon him, before the final blow. Anything else would be less than the man deserved.

  Alex continued steadily forward, making sure to always keep at least fifteen feet into the forest. The bullet wound to his chest was still leaking blood but it didn’t seem as if any major artery had been severed. He had been very lucky, considering the circumstances. He had been shot and left for dead in a burning building, and yet here he was, making his way through the forest with such perfect air filling his lungs.

  He dropped to his knees and felt unbearable pain rush through his being.

  Jenny was on the porch, swinging a rifle about. Sunlight reflected off its surface and he immediately knew it was the stainless Remington he had seen her handle the day before. It was so shiny it was practically useless in the forest, but he reminded himself of its proven firepower and the fact that Jenny looked perfectly comfortable using it.

  He would have to get close.

  She stepped down on the ground and walked around the house, checking the windows, pushing them with an open palm, appearing satisfied when they didn’t budge. She took a long look around, scanning both the road, the forest, and the water, before she hurried back inside.

  He pushed himself back to his feet, leaving a stain of blood on the ground, a wet glittering patch that would fade in a moment. Something about it made him smile. It was as if he was getting buried, piece by piece, all over this Godforsaken landscape.

  It was poetic. Even more so because he wouldn’t go alone.

  He pressed his left hand against his chest and moved forward. He could feel the wound in his chest, but he wouldn’t let that turn into a weakness. He focused on the weapon in his right hand and on the revenge that was his for the taking.

  Killing Jenny would be the perfect way to start.

  * * * *

  Ryan pushed the Land Rover hard on the narrow road, constantly braking and accelerating again, all the time drenching the windshield in wiper fluid to clean away the thick stains and streaks left by low-hanging birches. Visibility was poor with the low sun in his eyes, and this particular road entirely unfamiliar.

  Steve had been quiet ever since they left his cabin. Ryan had seen him gazing at Jenny in the rearview mirror, watching her on the front steps with an intense look of worry in her eyes. The bond between them seemed much deeper than Ryan had expected, but it shouldn’t surprise him. They had all been under tremendous pressure, having survived more danger together than most people experienced in a lifetime, and it made you truly appreciate the people you were with.

  He focused on the driving again, knowing he had to keep looking for oncoming traffic. The road was too narrow, especially with the summer green narrowing it down, but then again winter snow would have made matters even worse.

  He glanced quickly around him and noticed a mass of gray moving deep in the forest, a herd of reindeer, and it almost made him smile. Perhaps it was this fairytale Lapland landscape that had made their deep connections possible, steeping them all in its mystical light.

  He glanced at Steve again and could tell he was feeling something similar.

  “You all right?” Steve asked, looking back at him.

  Ryan nodded. “Thanks for doing this. Thanks for coming.”

  “Someone’s got to keep you in line.”

  “Is that what you’re doing?”

  “I don’t know. Am I?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Probably not.”

  Ryan shifted down a gear and steered around a sharp turn in the road. This landscape was hilly and rocky, they were close to the river, and the road kept winding back almost as much as it went forward. He shifted up again.

  “And you? Everything’s all right with Jenny?”

  Steve just looked at him.

  “She’ll be fine,” Ryan said after a moment.

&nbs
p; “Katia too.” Steve peered at the GPS screen. “We’re not far away now. Not far at all.”

  Ryan shifted down again and steered around another bend. They were taking a different road this time, there seemed to be hundreds to choose from, and the GPS was probably the only way to navigate them unless you had lived here all your life. At least this route wouldn’t take them past the crash site or the Russian van. Perhaps it had been found by now, perhaps it was still in the forest, perhaps the police were busy clocking in overtime there already. Their investigators would probably need weeks to figure it all out, the crash, the fire at the farm, and everything else that had happened. It would be next to an impossible task, until they got help.

  “It should be just around the bend,” Steve said.

  Ryan turned the wheel and finally saw the river as the forest gave way to a rocky shoreline. He looked to his right in search of the waterfall, but it was further upstream, beyond a tall cliff, and all he could see was the moisture in the air. The river was calmer here, but it was streaming quickly along the rocky banks.

  “Over there.” Steve pointed to their left. “Slow down.”

  Ryan saw the Volvo and immediately realized it was inching dangerously close to the edge of a steep cliff, thirty feet above the river. He slammed the brakes and felt the seat belt cut into his shoulder.

  Silence.

  Then he heard Katia racing her engine.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  JENNY IGNORED THE inquisitive looks from the girls on the sofa and went straight to the bedroom and shut the door behind her. Ryan had left his jacket on the bed with the bloodstained envelope sticking out from the inside breast pocket. She pulled it out and barely remembered to steel herself before she looked. Her heart raced, but it didn’t hurt as much as she had expected, seeing Mats in the back of the van, with all that blood smeared all around him. She was a different person now, after these last twenty-four hours, much better equipped to deal with shock and violence, and she forced herself to keep looking, keep studying each photo matter-of-factly, as was her responsibility.