There’s no glass in the door, so he can’t actually see Chris. But he can easily imagine him standing right on the other side, frowning and contemplating.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Chris asks.
“I lost my phone. Fred took it. Listen, it’s okay; these people helped me out. I was trapped at Fred’s place, I was—I’ll explain later, just please open the door, Chris! The zombies will be here any—”
The car honks.
“I see them,” Leif says, apparently answering Linda’s warning, as he turns and walks towards an old lady coming around the corner. He swings the shovel and knocks her flat on her back. The next one follows closely behind.
“Open up, Chris!” Iver shouts, banging the door again. “They’re coming!”
“Are they threatening you to bring them here?”
“What? No!”
Leif takes down another zombie with a loud bang of the shovel, and three more show up.
“Chris, for God’s sake!” Iver shouts. “If you don’t open up, we’ll have to get back to the car and—”
The lock turns and the door opens. “Get in,” Chris says, grabbing Iver by the wrist. He pulls him inside and is about to slam the door shut, ignoring Iver who tells him to wait a minute.
Then, suddenly, Linda appears in the door, pointing the shotgun at Chris. “Not so fast.”
Chris freezes. He’s holding his own rifle, but it’s pointing down. For half a second, Iver can sense him considering if he’ll be able to flip it up and fire before the woman can pull the trigger.
“Please don’t do anything stupid,” Linda says, reading Chris as well. “I know how to use this thing.”
Iver holds his breath. From the driveway, he can still hear Leif fighting off the zombies.
“Step back, please,” Linda says, bobbing the barrel.
Iver backs up, and two seconds later, Chris follows him, not turning his back to Linda.
“Leif!” Linda calls out, keeping her gaze fixed at Chris as she crosses the doorstep. “Let’s go!”
Leif appears behind her, panting and grunting. “About damn time,” he mutters, slamming the door behind him. “There were way too many out there …”
He stops talking as he notices Linda aiming the rifle at Chris. For a moment, all four of them just stare at each other, standing in Agnete’s tiny entrance hall.
“What exactly is happening here?” Leif asks, wiping sweat from his brow. He’s still holding the bloody shovel. Iver can smell the putrid metallic stench from the blade.
“Exactly what I told you would happen,” Linda says in a cold tone. “They tried to trick us. They tried to keep us out.”
“We did no such thing,” Chris replies. “I just didn’t want any of the dead fuckers to come in here.”
“Oh, please,” Linda says, sending him a wry smile. “Don’t BS me. I heard you talking to him through the door.” She nods at Iver.
Iver is still amazed at how Linda managed to sneak up on them. He had just heard her honk the car horn not twenty seconds before, and then she was suddenly there. She obviously planned the stunt beforehand.
Chris doesn’t flinch. “Well, would you just let in two strangers?”
“Of course not,” she tells him. “That’s why we had to do it the way we did.”
“Congrats on pulling it off,” Chris says. “If you don’t mind, I’m very tired and would like to get some sleep.”
Without waiting for permission, Chris just turns and walks into the living room.
Linda glances at Leif, then at Iver. Finally, she lowers the weapon and gives Leif a nod. They both follow Chris into the living room.
Iver stands there for another second. He’s amazed at how Chris just accepted the intruders. Then on the other hand, what could he do?
Well, I guess our group just grew bigger …
THIRTEEN
“Oh, shit!”
William wastes no time spinning around, he simply reflexively thrusts the butt end of the rifle up and back, connecting with the jaw of the closest zombie—a young skinny dude with a large tattoo covering his neck—who was just about to sink his teeth into William’s shoulder.
The guy’s head is flung back and he stumbles sideways, bumping into the other dead guy—a heavy, middle-aged man in a torn-up bus driver’s uniform—which is very lucky, because it gives William just enough time to get out of the way. He rounds on the ambushers and points the rifle at them, but just as he’s about to fire, Ozzy jumps in front of him, attacking the bus driver.
Afraid that he might shoot Ozzy, William instead uses the rifle as a bat and clocks tattoo guy on the side of the head, bringing him to the ground. Then he turns back to the kids and screams out in surprise as the youngest boy is right in front of him. The kid lunges for him before William has time to aim and fire. Instead, he manages to hold up the rifle as a barrier, hindering the boy in reaching him by keeping him at arm’s length. The boy grabs and bites at him, not paying much heed to the rifle pressed against his chest, but simply trying to push through it. William is stronger, though, and is able to force the boy backwards a few steps.
Then the boy suddenly changes tactics, bares his teeth and goes for William’s left hand. William pulls back his hand a fraction of a second before the boy can bite him.
William kicks the boy hard in the belly, expecting him to go flying backwards. But somehow, probably because the boy doesn’t respond to pain and has no reflexes left, he simply doubles over like a bag of sand, collapsing in front of William.
The girl reaches him next, immediately making her way around her brother, who’s already working to get back up. William uses the short time to take aim and fire the rifle from hip-level—which turns out to be a lot harder than in the movies.
The rifle kicks back just as the shot rings out, throwing William off balance and spinning him halfway around, almost slipping from
