Allan hesitates, shakes his head, staggers backwards.
“Allan!” Soren shouts, still struggling against the cuffed zombie. “What the hell are you doing? Help her, for Christ’s sake!”
Allan keeps stepping backwards. He drops the walkie on the grass. Instead, he raises the gun.
“Allan, goddamnit!” Soren roars. “What the hell are—”
The shot rings out over the garden, surprisingly loud. It stings in Selina’s ears, and the glass in front of her vibrates for a second. The girl’s head is thrown back, revealing a gaping hole right above her eye. She manages to take another step, then she collapses on the grass.
A few seconds of terrible silence.
The only thing Selina can hear is a shrill ringing in her ears, and Jennie Nygaard still growling and trying to get free. Selina notices absently how her dad comes rushing past behind her, herding a flock of kids.
Outside on the lawn, Allan is staring down at the dead girl. His mouth opens and closes a few times.
Soren stares at his partner. “You ... you shot her …”
Allan turns around to face Soren. He looks very ill. He mutters something Selina doesn’t catch. It sounds like: “… had to do it …”
Maybe because Soren is distracted, Jennie Nygaard finally manages to twist around just enough to plant her teeth in his thigh.
“Auv, goddamnit! Let go! Let go of me!” He sends a fist directly into her face, once, twice, three times. Jennie Nygaard ignores the punches and keeps gnawing away fiercely, ripping the pants and causing blood to spurt. Soren gets up and steps back. The zombie clamps down and is dragged a few steps before it finally loses its grip.
Soren limps backwards, clutching at his leg. “Bloody hell, she got me good …” He’s still bleeding from the wound on the back of his neck, the blood running down both sides of his neck like strings of red hair.
Jennie Nygaard still has her hands caught behind her back, which means she can’t get up. Instead, she wriggles after Soren like a giant worm. A piece of his pants leg is still lodged between her teeth.
Allan steps between them. He aims the gun at Jennie Nygaards’s head.
“No, Allan,” Soren begins.
He’s interrupted once more, as Allan pulls the trigger the second time. The shot is just as deafening as the first time.
Jennie Nygaard immediately ceases to move.
FOUR
The silence that follows is even louder than the two gunshots.
The first noise Selina registers is kids crying somewhere nearby. Then she hears something much closer: a gurgling sound coming from her own throat. She doubles over and throws up onto the floor. The sweet taste of Malibu brings her fleeting memories of last night.
Her stomach is quickly empty. It cramps up a few more times, and Selina spits into the puddle. Outside in the garden she can hear the officers shouting at each other.
“Have you gone completely insane?”
“They were zombies, goddamnit!”
“Give me the gun! Let go of it!”
Selina looks out to see them fighting over the gun.
Then her dad is by her side, pale-faced. Without a word, he grips her arm and pulls her towards the stairs.
“Dad, wait …”
But Dad doesn’t seem to hear her. He hauls her upstairs and into Louisa’s room, where a flock of scared girls—including Louisa—are standing or sitting around the floor, sobbing or staring in wide-eyed silence.
“We stay in here,” Dad says to no one in particular. “All of us. We’re safe in here.”
“What about Josefine?” one of the girls immediately asks.
Selina figures Josefine must be the girl splayed out on the grass down in the back garden with a bullet in her brain.
“She’s fine, Josefine is fine,” Dad lies and finally looks at Selina. “Stay in here with the girls. Comfort them if they get scared.” He strides back towards the door.
“Dad!” Selina says, following him. “You can’t go down there …”
“You’ll do as I say!” Dad shouts and spins around to point a finger in her face.
Selina steps back, amazed. Dad has never yelled at her before. She looks at him and realizes he’s trembling, his eyes flickering.
“I have no idea what’s going on down there,” he murmurs. “But it’s obvious they don’t have the situation under control, so I’m calling the police, and I’m also calling Ulla to tell her not to come home.” He pats his pockets. “My phone is downstairs. I’ll be back up as soon as I’ve made the calls.”
He leaves the room without further explanation, slamming the door and turning a key on the other side.
Selina turns to look at the scared girls, most of them staring back at her, unsure what to do or say. At that moment there’s a shout from the garden. Selina runs to the window. Looking down, she sees the policemen rolling around the grass, still struggling for the gun.
Soren wins the fight and gets to his feet, panting, holding the weapon. He points it at Allan as he limps backwards a few paces. “You’re … under … arrest …” he wheezes.
“You’ve been infected, Soren,” Allan says, sitting up, his shirt and hair all ruffled. “You’ll become—”
“Shut up!” Soren shouts. “And stay down!”
Allan holds up his hands. “Listen to me, goddamnit. We might still have a chance of stopping it!”
Soren doesn’t answer, but picks up the walkie. “Central,” he says.
“No!” Allan shouts. “Don’t call for backup! We can’t risk any more people getting infected!”
Soren steps a little farther away. “Yeah, we need an ambulance … one officer is wounded, two civilians are dead … We found what we assume to be the missing person … she’s dead.”
Someone pulls at Selina’s sleeve. She turns to see Louisa. Her lips are trembling. “Selina? Why is this happening on my birthday?”
“I don’t know,” Selina mutters, realizing how all of the girls are staring at her. She forces a smile. “There’s no need to be scared, we’re safe up here.”
“What about Josefine?” one of them asks.
Selina glances down onto the lawn and feels a cold shiver down her spine despite the heat. “I’m …
