Let the Old Dreams Die (46 page)

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Authors: John Ajvide Lindqvist

BOOK: Let the Old Dreams Die
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It was true. Even though he’d said the word, neither the image nor the concept of a giraffe came into his head. Kalle relaxed and smiled. ‘OK?’

Flora nodded and waggled her hand in the air:
so-so
.

‘What? There was no giraffe.’

‘No,’ said Flora. ‘But you weren’t talking. You were singing.’

‘Was I?’

‘Mm. It sounded good, but the guards might think it’s a bit odd if you start rapping at them.’

They carried on practising. After half an hour Kalle had learned to separate his speech from the rhythm in his head, and Flora could see no trace of the thing he wasn’t allowed to think about. They went back to the van. It was a quarter to ten.

‘OK,’ said Kalle. ‘So what’s the plan?’

‘There is no plan.’

‘For safety reasons, or because…?’

‘Because there is no plan. I’ll get in the back.’

They kissed, then Flora climbed over the seats and found a cloth to hide under.

‘Do you realise,’ said Kalle as he started the engine, ‘that you’re actually lying underneath Tropicos’ backdrop?’

‘I’m honoured,’ Flora’s voice came through the fabric.

Kalle headed for the gates. Fortunately it was the same guard as last time. He merely glanced at Kalle’s ID through the open window and let him in. Kalle found it more difficult to get his bearings this time, because he couldn’t allow other consciousnesses through his carpet of drumming. However, he was beginning to recognise the route, and after a couple of minutes he pulled up outside the basement room.

Six metal boxes of the same type as he had seen before were stacked up outside. He went round and opened the back doors of the van. Flora peered out from under the cloth; he saw her, but didn’t think about her.

Nobody answered when he knocked on the door. He looked around and opened it. The place had changed. A couple of fluorescent lights hung on chains from the ceiling, shining down on the hospital beds Kalle had brought last time. The cement floor under the beds was discoloured.

Something…disgust…it’s…pain

It was the perceptions, not the words that forced their way through the rhythm which was beginning to dissolve, become uneven and

sticky

it sounded as if the drums were standing in clay, mud, there was a squelching sound with every beat and he could hear screams inside his head, beads of sweat broke out on Kalle’s forehead as he strained to incorporate the screams into the rhythm, make them

Flora

He looked around. Flora was getting out of the van. He waved his hand to make her stay where she was. She remained by the van, and just as Kalle turned back into the room, one of the doors set in the wall opened.

The man he had seen before wearing a check shirt was now dressed in a white coat. He gave a start when he saw Kalle, and looked into his eyes for just a second too long before a little smile appeared on his lips.

‘Hi.’

Kalle just had time to think
Flo—
before the rushing sound of static filled his head, obliterating every thought. The man must have heard it too, because he put his hand to his temple and looked around, searching. On a level that did not involve thought Kalle
sensed what it was, and through the noise he said as calmly as he could, ‘I’ve come to pick up the boxes. They’re going to Karolinska, right?’

The man nodded absently; Kalle backed out through the door and closed it behind him. Flora was no longer standing by the van.

The boxes were heavy. Each one weighed around eighty kilos, and there was a difference from the boxes he had carried last time: these weren’t just locked, they were welded shut. Apart from the handles on the sides, there wasn’t a single gap or protrusion.

Kalle loaded them in the van as quickly as he could, grateful for the additional protection they would provide for Flora. The rushing sound had abated as soon as he closed the door, and he carried on drumming as he shifted the boxes. When he went to fetch the last one, the door opened and the man came out. He had taken off his white coat and was now wearing a check shirt in a different colour from the last time. He looked at the van. Kalle pretended not to notice him as he heaved the last box inside.

He closed the doors and the man said, ‘Heavy?’

‘Yeah,’ said Kalle, wiping the sweat from his brow.

The man nodded. ‘Sorry. I was a bit busy.’

‘It’s OK.’

The man was still looking at the van, and Kalle had to make a huge effort not to let any suspect thoughts break through. Whether it did any good or not, he wasn’t sure. The man pointed at the van.

‘It’s a Toyota, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good cars. Bloody good cars.’

The man looked Kalle in the eye and Kalle could feel the groping he now knew he was able to withstand. The man shrugged his shoulders, said, ‘See you,’ and went back inside.

Kalle was dripping with sweat by the time he started the van. He drove carefully through the compound, out through the gates
and up to the spot where he had first met Flora. He switched off the engine, let go of the steering wheel and screamed as loud as he could.

Flora’s arms came creeping around him.

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.

‘It’s driving me mad. Being in there makes me completely fucking mental.’

‘You did really well.’

Kalle took a couple of deep breaths. Then he asked, ‘That rushing sound. That was you, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Thought so.’

They both fell silent. Kalle’s head felt utterly exhausted, as if he’d been to the dentist, completely drained of energy by the effort of distancing himself. He turned around and looked at the boxes.

‘What do you think is in them?’

‘No idea.’

‘You can’t feel anything?’

‘No.’

Kalle reached over and ran his hand over one of the boxes. The join between the lid and the box itself was uneven, bumpy with melted metal. He shook his head and looked at Flora. Her expression was distant, as if her thoughts were elsewhere.

‘Are you OK?’

‘In there…’ said Flora. ‘It was terrible in there. It hurt. Much worse than outside. The place where we were. That’s where it comes from. The pain.’

‘Yes.’

‘Was it the same when you were there before?’

‘No. It’s something new.’

They sat without speaking for a while. The boxes behind Kalle felt like a burden, a threat. He turned and knocked on the nearest one. The material was unresponsive against his knuckles, nothing
but thick metal. No clue as to what might be inside. His watch was showing just before eleven.

‘I think we’d better make a move,’ he said to Flora. ‘They’ll be wondering.’

Twenty minutes later they had reached the loading bay at Karolinska. When Kalle opened the van door to get out, Flora laid a hand on his arm and said, ‘Don’t ring the bell. Just leave them. And save one.’

‘What do you mean, save?’

‘Just leave five. We’ll take one with us. Shall I give you a hand?’

Kalle shook his head. ‘No, it’s probably best if I…what the fuck do you think they’re going to say?’

‘Well, you could have left one behind.’

‘Yeah, right. They’re going to believe that, aren’t they?’

‘Have you got any better ideas?’

Kalle had a number of better ideas, but none of them involved finding out what was inside the boxes, so he said, ‘No,’ and got out of the van. He moved the boxes as quietly and carefully as he could. Luckily nobody came out to check this time.

Luckily. Absolutely. Lucky me. Just like winning the lottery. What the fuck have I got myself mixed up in?

As he put down the last box, his phone rang. He gave a start and ran back to the van to stop the noise attracting unwanted attention. He closed the door and looked at the display. ROLAND, it said.

Roland? What the hell does Roland want?

In his stressed state of mind he didn’t consider the consequences, but simply answered as he started the van, the phone tucked awkwardly between his shoulder and his ear.

‘Hello?’

‘Kalle,’ said Roland. ‘My dear Kalle. The son I never had.’

Fingers wriggled their way in beneath his cheek. Flora took the phone and held it to his ear so that he could drive properly. Kalle
nodded his thanks and manoeuvred out of the loading bay. Roland was obviously drunk, and when he was drunk he became solemn and sentimental.

‘Hi,’ said Kalle.

‘Kalle, my friend. Are you in the van?’

‘Yes, I’m…yes.’

‘That’s absolutely wonderful. Fantastic.’

‘If you say so.’

Kalle headed towards the E4 and wondered where this conversation was going. Roland went on, ‘The thing is, I’ve got myself into a bit of a situation. A delicate situation, as they used to say in the old days. I need a lift.’

‘Roland, it’s a bit…tricky at the moment.’

‘You never spoke a truer word, my friend. I accompanied a lady home, and without going into detail I find myself standing here without any money, without…anything on some
fucking
suburban estate in Södertälje.’

‘At least you’ve got your phone.’

‘Indeed. And I’m ringing to ask you…to
beg
you to come and pick me up, Kalle.’

Kalle squeezed his eyes tight shut, then opened them again. He couldn’t say no. After all, he was driving around in Roland’s van.

‘OK. Where are you?’

‘Now there’s a question.’

‘Come on, Roland.’

Well, I saw Saltskog on some sign. Salty Forest, for God’s sake. That’s where I am. So all you have to do is…if you see a man on his own wandering around in a salty forest, that’s me. You see, Kalle…’

‘On my way. I’ll be in touch.’

Kalle indicated that Flora should end the call. He’d been around a couple of times before when Roland was drunk, and he knew that Roland was perfectly capable of bending his ear all the way to
Södertälje if Kalle didn’t put a stop to it.

Flora pressed the button and put the phone down on the dashboard. Kalle sighed.

‘I have to.’

‘OK.’

Kalle waved in the direction of the box. ‘What are we going to do with that?’

Flora shrugged. ‘We’ve got a box in the back of the van. So what?’

‘And afterwards?’

‘No idea.’

Kalle gritted his teeth and concentrated on the road. He’d put his job at risk, presumably done something illegal that would cause him considerable problems, and for what?

No idea.

They drove in silence for a long time. As they drew closer to Södertälje, Flora said, ‘I don’t know any more than you do. I’m just trying to do the right thing.’

‘I know. It just feels a bit odd, driving around in a van thinking we’re going to…actually, what is it we’re going to do? Save souls? It feels really weird.’

Flora rested her chin on her hands and gazed out through the windscreen. ‘Jesus probably felt the same. At first.’

Kalle grinned and looked at her. They both started to laugh.

Roland was slumped against a lamppost on the way into Saltskog, looking utterly miserable. His mobile was by his side and his hands rested limply on the tarmac. He had no jacket, and when Kalle got out of the van he could see Roland wasn’t wearing any socks either.

Kalle walked over to him and held out a hand to help him to his feet. Roland looked up at him, but didn’t take his hand. He waved feebly at his phone. ‘I rang my wife.’

Kalle picked up the phone and put it in Roland’s pocket, then slid his arms around Roland and heaved him up. Roland’s face was right up against his as he spoke in the tone of someone revealing a great truth: ‘Hold on to what you’ve got. Don’t start playing around. Hold firm. There’s… nothing out here.’

Roland sighed deeply and looked down at the ground.

‘She said she loved me. All along. Up until the day when I said I’d met someone else. That’s when it all went wrong. Everything fell apart. Everything. No way back. And I thought…I thought I’d have fun. I didn’t. Instead I ended up…’ Roland waved his hand to encompass the houses in darkness, the tarmac, the dirty light, ‘…with this.’

Kalle bundled him towards the car. ‘Come on.’

Roland shook him off. ‘I’m perfectly capable of walking. I’m not drunk anymore. I’m just so bloody unhappy. Playing in fucking shopping centres. Fake tan. Covering myself in fake tan. Whitening my teeth. Fuck. It’s over. What have I done with my life?’

When Roland got to the van and opened the door, he saw Flora. He stopped, straightened up. It took him three seconds to retrieve his charming self, and there it was, all guns blazing. He smiled.

‘And you must be…?’

‘Flora.’

‘Ah, the mysterious lady. Is there room for someone like me next to someone like you?’

Flora shuffled closer to the driver’s seat to make room for Roland next to the door. He got in with no sign of intoxication or depression. Kalle looked around on the ground where Roland had been sitting to see if he’d left anything behind. Socks, for example. When he didn’t find anything he got into the van, started the engine and said to Roland, ‘I’ll drive you home, OK?’

Roland flung his arms wide. ‘Drive me anywhere you like. I don’t care, I don’t care.’

When they’d been driving for a couple of minutes, Flora suddenly said, ‘I really like “You Forever”.’

Roland raised his eyebrows dramatically and looked at her.

‘You must forgive my preconceptions, but I wouldn’t have thought you were among our target audience.’

‘I’ve heard it on the radio a few times. I usually can’t stand that kind of music, but…it’s good.’

Roland nodded. ‘Thank you. So…you two are out for a drive, are you?’

‘Yes,’ said Kalle, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the road ahead. Roland looked around inside the van and noticed the box behind him.

‘What’s that?’

Kalle cursed his stupidity—why hadn’t he covered it up? Flora answered for him: ‘We don’t really know.’ Roland looked at them, waiting for someone to continue. When no one did, he looked at the box again and said, ‘If I didn’t know better I’d think it was a bomb. Given how guilty you two look.’

Kalle rubbed his temple, but still didn’t say anything. He couldn’t come up with a single lie that would explain why they were driving around with a hermetically sealed box in the back of the van. Something suddenly occurred to Roland. ‘Is it from the Heath?’

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