chaos.
Thirty or so people lay dead or dying on the seats and on the ground. A woman had managed to escape onto the stage with blood pouring from her throat and had run into the Perspex screen protecting the stage from the wind coming off Malarviken. She was just lying there in a heap on the jetty, over by the standing area. Theres put the microphone back in its stand, went over to the woman and drank her.
Some members of the group had been grabbed by security guards or other adults, some had been knocked over and trampled underfoot as the audience panicked and fled, some were still standing or crouching next to their latest victim, sucking up their life.
Theres went right to the end of the jetty, threw back her head and
The same howl rose from fourteen throats, a rising and falling note with a single message.
Then more guards arrived, more capable hands to help drag away and render harmless the wild animals that had insinuated themselves in among human habitation.
Teresa had managed to get to the side of the stage, and as the other girls were running away or being captured, she called Theres over. Together they ran towards the wolf enclosure. They passed groups of people standing, sitting or lying at what they judged to be a safe distance from the danger. Moans and weeping from both children and adults filled the air.
Teresa saw a man with his arms around two people who were presumably his wife and son, and a thought struck her. A detail they had never mentioned when they were planning for this day.
‘Jerry?’ she asked. ‘Is he here?’
Without slowing down Theres replied, ‘I told him he wasn’t allowed to come.’
Presumably he had seen it on TV, presumably he knew by this stage what had happened. But he hadn’t been here, there was no risk that he was one of the dead. In some way that was a relief.
They ran, and the people allowed them to pass. A young voice yelled, ‘She’s the one who was singing!’ but that was all they knew. Theres and Teresa ran side by side until they reached the enclosure.
Before the show began, when everyone was gathered in Solliden, Teresa had used the bolt cutters to make a hole about the size of a door in the fence, so that their grey sisters and brothers would have the opportunity to join in.
None of them had taken that opportunity, but as if the wolves had sensed the atmosphere of the hunt that pervaded the area, several of them had emerged from their lairs and hiding places and were now warily circling the area near the breach, baring their teeth and growling. Teresa looked at them and shook her head.
‘They didn’t come to us.’
Theres stood with her neck extended, watching the shaggy figures that were watching her. Then it happened. At first Teresa couldn’t work out what was tickling the back of her hand. When she looked down she saw that it was Theres’ fingers, fumbling for hers. She grabbed Theres’ hand and held it tightly. They stood for a long time, side by side in front of the door, squeezing each other’s hands.
Then Theres said, ‘In that case, we will go to them.’
Acknowledgement
‘Thank You for the Music’
Music and Lyrics by Benny Andersson and Bjorn Ulvaeus
Printed by permission of Universal/Union Songs Musikforlag AB,
Stockholm, Sweden.
With special thanks to ABBA, for inspiration.
John Ajvide Lindqvist
JOHN AJVIDE LINDQVIST lives in Sweden and has worked as a conjurer and stand-up comedian. His first novel,
MARLAINE DELARGY is based in the UK. She has translated novels by Swedish writers including Asa Larsson, Ninni Holmqvist and Johan Theorin-with whom she won the CWA International Dagger 2010 for
