Stallo (61 page)

To save the fading batteries he switched off the light and inched his way back with his hands in front of him like a sleepwalker.

The blackness seemed to have paled imperceptibly, as if daylight was breaking through, but he was sure that was only his imagination. Or perhaps his eyes had adjusted somehow. The hide door was left open fairly often but even so he thought it was surprising that the old-timers did not go blind from spending so much time in the dark. But their eyes were different, of course.

When he thought he was close to the sink he flashed the light to orientate himself. He had not come as far as he had expected. Amina was standing with the blanket round her shoulders and he could hear she was moving her lips. She was talking to the little creature. During the night it had shapeshifted. ‘Feel here,’ she had said, but Seved had not really wanted to. He thought she should let the thing go. ‘I’m not holding it,’ she had said. ‘It wants to be with me.’

He sank down on the bottom step and buried his face in his arms. They had been in the hide for over twelve hours and the hunger was gnawing at his insides. He had kicked over one or two tin cans on the floor but the thought of eating from them turned his stomach.

What would be waiting for them if they managed to get out? The hares would be waiting, that was for sure, spread out in the forest, quick to pass on the news. And the weasels. But mainly he thought about the wolverines. Jola must have had them with him.
They had frightened Seved and he did not want to think about them, but he could not help it. They appeared as soon as he shut his eyes. The one with the owl mask especially. It had stepped right out of a nightmare and frozen its imprint inside him.

Ulf Eskilsson sat in his car with his elbows resting heavily on his knees and his boots in the snow. His thin hair was sticking up in tufts that were damp with sweat and he was holding his woollen hat in his hand. He nodded silently at an older man in a green trapper hat who was leaning his hand against the door, talking. Beside the Volvo Eskilsson was sitting in stood a snowmobile, an old Ockelbo with a wide track and a trailer. Gudrun pulled up behind it.

‘You know, the red fox kills the Arctic fox and they are both carrying scabies,’ the older man said before clamping his mouth shut and glancing sideways at Susso, who was walking quickly towards them.

She could tell by looking at the men that they were shaken. It was obvious something had happened, something they had not bargained for. The snow was falling in large flakes across the narrow road, and Susso ran her eyes over the white, solidified forest.

‘Well,’ Gudrun said, slamming the car door shut, ‘where’s the bear then?’

There was a pause before Ulf Eskilsson answered:

‘I don’t know what it was, but it certainly wasn’t a bear.’

‘Have you seen him?’ Susso asked.

They said they had.

‘And he wasn’t a bear?’

‘Well,’ said the older man, ‘he was, partly. But not all of him, I can tell you that for sure.’

Susso gave Gudrun a worried look, and Gudrun’s eyes narrowed.

The other man’s name was Randolf Hedman. At about ten o’clock that morning he had been driving his snowmobile over the frozen river when he found tracks that crossed the ice and led into the forest. The previous day he had travelled the same route and there hadn’t been any tracks then. He would be seventy-four in the summer and he had never come across a bear, so out of pure curiosity he had followed the trail for a couple of kilometres.

‘I knew it wasn’t sensible, considering what had happened in Jokkmokk in the autumn when that hunter was killed, but I wanted to see what Bruno was up to in the depths of winter. I just wanted to get a glimpse of him, of his back, I thought, from a distance. And on the other side of the marshes up here I saw that he had gone under a large spruce tree and hadn’t come out. That was when I phoned the forest ranger. And when we got there, well …’

Randolf fell quiet and was waiting for confirmation, but none came. Ulf Eskilsson stared straight ahead with unseeing eyes behind the misty lenses of his glasses.

So Randolf continued:

‘That’s when he came out. I expect he heard the snowmobile. They don’t sleep as deeply as people think and this one had just been up and about, of course, so he probably hadn’t slept properly. But yes, it’s like he says, it wasn’t a bear. It was more like a troll, I would say. If I can use that word.’

‘Yes, that’s all right,’ Gudrun said.

‘He roared at us and we … well, we fell over, both of us. Sat down in the snow, like this.’ Randolf bent his knees and flung out his arms.

‘And there we sat. Pretty shaken, I can tell you. It was as if we were paralysed. And it must have been five, ten minutes before we got to our feet, and just as long again before we could say a word. By that time he was long gone. He set off in the direction of that mountain, Stor-Gidna, I noticed that. And we’ve been discussing whether scabies has made him like that, but we don’t know. It has to be something else …’

Ulf looked up at Susso.

‘What was that you said you knew?’ he asked. ‘About that bear …?’

‘What?’

‘You said on the phone you knew something.’

‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Just that he could mutate like that.’

‘Mutate?’

‘How long has it been since you saw him?’ she asked.

‘It’s twelve fifteen now,’ he said. ‘And I got here just after ten. But I can’t say for sure how long we’ve been sitting here.’

‘So two hours, max?’

He nodded uncertainly.

‘It’s no more than an hour,’ Randolf said, ‘since we saw him.’

Susso walked over to the car and took out her bag. She pulled a tangle of clothes out onto the seat and from the pile dug out a pair of blue thermal leggings and a thick jumper.

‘Randolf,’ she said, carefully removing her jacket and giving it to Torbjörn, ‘we need to borrow your snowmobile. How much fuel is left?’

‘What do you mean by
mutate
?’ Ulf said, standing up unsteadily.

‘I don’t know about borrowing it,’ said Randolf. ‘But I could consider letting you hire it.’

Swiftly Susso undressed down to her bra and pants. She felt
the goosebumps spread over her thighs and upper arms. Gudrun protested, but mainly because Susso was stamping barefoot in the snow.

‘How much do you want?’ asked Susso, pulling a thermal T-shirt over her head.

‘Well, that depends, of course, on how long you want it for,’ said Randolf, who was polite enough to turn his head away and inspect the snow-covered treetops. ‘But we could say a thousand kronor for twenty-four hours. Fuel included. And the tank is almost full.’

Susso turned to face Gudrun, who immediately shook her head.

‘I’ve got no cash on me,’ she said.

After Susso had picked up her jacket and put it back on Torbjörn opened his wallet.

‘I’ve got twenty,’ he said.

‘You’ll get the money when we bring it back,’ Susso called as she walked over to the boot of the car to get Torbjörn’s backpack. She pushed the plastic bag containing the revolver into the top section.

‘I’ll want a deposit then.’

By now Susso was fully dressed and carrying the backpack. She fastened the top straps and put her mitten to her Inca hat to straighten it.

‘Okay, Randolf,’ she said. ‘I don’t think we want to hire it after all.’

‘Oh, right.’

‘We would really prefer to borrow it.’

The old man frowned and then nodded.

‘I suppose that’s a possibility,’ he said slowly.

‘It’s going to be very cold, you know,’ Torbjörn said.

‘And we want to borrow your ski pants as well,’ she went on.

‘My trousers …’

‘Borrow. Not hire.’

‘Oh,’ he said, looking down. ‘Well, I’m sure that will be all right.’

Slowly he undid his jacket, shrugged off the shoulder straps and pulled down his bright-yellow ski pants. When Susso saw that he was wearing only long johns underneath, she felt sorry for him.

‘Mum,’ she said, ‘you’ll have to drive Randolf home.’

Gudrun threw a look at the trouserless man and tightened her lips to prevent a smile breaking out.

‘Ask the warden if we can borrow the GPS he’s got in the car,’ Torbjörn said in a low voice as he took off his jacket.

‘Ulf!’ Susso said. ‘We’re borrowing this!’

‘That,’ he said, without opening his mouth properly, ‘that is a GPS receiver.’

‘I know that, Ulf,’ Susso replied with a smile. ‘You haven’t got a torch as well, have you?’

They were sitting leaning against the wall on either side of the sink when they heard determined footsteps on the porch above. It had been silent for over twelve hours and the sound terrified them. Seved grabbed hold of Amina and moved her to the side. They positioned themselves so that they would not be seen from the door as it opened.

‘It’s time now.’

It was Jola.

Amina did not move, but even so Seved held her tightly.

‘Can you hear me? Come up now!’

They stood waiting in silence, hearing his panting and his impatience.

Eventually the door was shut. And locked.

‘Come on,’ Seved said. He switched on the torch and they hurried towards the tunnel. He pushed Amina ahead of him. She crept inside a short way and crouched down, looking at him.

There was the sound of heavy feet up above again. Light poured down the staircase and then they heard Lennart’s voice:

‘If you don’t want to burn to death, you’d better come up now!’

Burn? Had he said burn?

‘Seved! I’m setting fire to it whether you come up or not.’

Seved took a step towards the staircase.

‘I want to talk to Börje,’ he shouted.

There was silence for a few seconds and then Lennart said:

‘Are you coming up or not?’

‘Not until I’ve talked to Börje, I said!’

He waited for an answer but none came, and Lennart left. But the door was left open. The flight of stairs was illuminated and the sink was shining.

Seved wondered why they did not come down and get them if they were so keen on them coming out. Were there shapeshifters in the hide that they wanted to avoid?

An hour or so later Seved thought he heard a car engine. A diesel engine, idling. The camper van probably. He walked closer to the stairs but he wasn’t sure. He asked Amina if she had heard anything, but she only shook her head.

Had they left? He wondered whether he dared go up and look. But just then there were heavy footsteps above and Jola came and stood halfway down the staircase.

‘Seved,’ he said quietly, ‘he’s serious. We’re setting light to the house. We’ve got to leave here, and quickly. So you’ve got to come up now.’

Seved had become trapped in his silence but now he was beginning to feel uncertain. It actually sounded as if Jola was telling the truth. But why could he not talk to Börje? That could only mean they had hurt him, and if that was the case it was highly likely he and Amina would meet the same fate.

‘Why can’t I talk to Börje?’

‘He and Lennart have gone. It’s only me left.’

‘If I can’t talk to Börje, then we’re not coming up!’

Jola had bent down and was staring into the darkness. He muttered something and then ran back up the stairs. Seved turned towards Amina. She sat curled up with her arms wrapped around
her legs in the opening of the tunnel. She was still holding the creature. Shit, that shifter! Could it have somehow managed to make its fear stick to them? He squatted down below her, leaned his back against the wall and waited.

About five minutes later Jola returned.

‘Are you coming?’ he shouted from the doorway.

Seved did not bother answering.

The next moment something bounced down the stairs with a hollow sound and landed on the concrete floor. It was the petrol container, green with a yellow label. Seved stood up and watched as a blue snake with a fin of flames shot down the stairs.

It was as fast as lightning and it found the container in no time.

The flames that leapt up in the darkness forced Seved backwards.

The rubbish on the floor caught alight and the flames crackled on the wooden staircase. Billows of blue-grey smoke surged forwards under the roof. There was a rustling of small feet as the animalshifters fled up the stairs. Petrified, Amina had vanished into the tunnel, and he followed after her. She crawled ahead of him, her boots scraping against the concrete, and he soon caught up with her. He almost wanted to fling her out of the way to get past. Panic was snapping at his heels. We’re going to die here, he thought. The smoke will suffocate us.