Iver feels stupid for not having realized this already. Come to think of it, the way Charlotte speaks to Chris, the way she looks at him when he talks—it’s been obvious since they left the ferry.
“Well, that’s her problem,” Chris says. “We’ll just assign her kitchen service. She’ll be in charge of rationing and cooking the food. I think she can handle that much.”
“You think she’ll leave?”
Chris shakes his head. “No way. She’s way too much of scaredy cat to go out there alone.”
“Will she be a problem, then?”
“Nah, she just needs to cool off. Adjust to the new situation, I guess.”
Linda nods, apparently accepting the answer. A moment of silence passes through the kitchen. From inside the living room, Agnete is singing to Adam, and he’s no longer crying.
Iver becomes aware of a growing knot in his stomach. This meeting isn’t going at all like he expected it to. It’s obvious that some sort of power struggle is going on, and surprisingly, Chris seems to side with Linda. Considering how Chris has been acting so far, this is very strange to Iver.
Is it some sort of manipulative move? Is Chris paying lip service to Linda? Making her feel like she’s in control by them teaming up against everyone else?
No, Iver doesn’t think so. Chris seems honest enough. He seems like he’s genuinely forming an alliance with Linda.
And once that word pops into Iver’s head, so does the answer.
It’s an alliance. The alpha male and the alpha female. Just like in high school. They’re not threatened by each other’s power; they’re attracted to it.
This makes perfect sense and causes everything to fall into place in a split second. Why Charlotte acted the way she did; she obviously picked up on it way before Iver. Why Chris doesn’t act like Linda is a rival. And why Linda—who was exceedingly suspicious towards Iver yesterday—seems to already have begun trusting Chris.
Iver looks at Leif, who seems like he’s barely attending the meeting but is more interested in his coffee. As big and strong as he is, he obviously has a small ego and steers right clear of any power struggles. Which explains perfectly why Linda was the boss of him when it was only the two of them.
“That just leaves you and me,” Chris says to Linda, looking at her like they’re the only ones at the table and driving home Iver’s theory. “Two roles left to fill. So where do you see yourself in this?”
Linda doesn’t immediately answer, but she unfolds her arms, picks up her fork and begins spinning it slowly between her fingers. Iver notices her nails are long and unbroken.
“I’m good at being in charge,” she says outright. “I used to work in management.”
“I can tell,” Chris says. “So, you want to be the captain?”
Linda still looks at her fork as she shrugs. “I think I’d do better as chief of staff. I’m not good at being the front figure, that was never one of my responsibilities in corporate life.”
“What were your responsibilities, then?”
“Managing internal affairs, mostly.”
Chris raises one eyebrow. “You mean firing people?”
“Among other things, yes. I always had a say in the major decisions. I was just never the one to actually pull the trigger, so to speak.”
“So chief advisor to the captain, then?”
Linda thinks for a moment, then nods. “I think that’ll work.”
“Good,” Chris says, leaning back. “Well, by process of elimination, we only have one seat left, which means I’ll have to be the captain.”
Leif looks like he finally picks up on the conversation and sends Chris a quick nod as way of admission.
“So what’s your first order, Captain?” Linda asks, putting down the fork and finally looking at Chris.
Chris looks back at her for a moment, then takes his cup and reaches it across the table. “That my chief of staff pours me a second cup of coffee.”
Linda looks from the cup to the pot right beside her. Then she smiles at Chris, picks up the pot and says: “You’re the boss.”
EIGHTEEN
It turns out that William was right: driving on the hiking trail is easier than you would think.
Åsaa is a careful driver, and she avoids the worst of the bumps and holes. The car is also very good for driving in this kind of terrain, making only slight swaying motions, almost rocking Dan to sleep as they make their way through the hilly landscape and the day slips into the afternoon.
He’s holding the phone in his hand, still hoping that William will call.
The radio is on, playing soft music. Dan is surprised that some stations are still on.
Getting Åsaa into the car was surprisingly easy; Dan could just drive right up against the car she was standing on and have her jump over. Then he opened the sunroof and she climbed down.
If only getting to William would have been as easy as that.
Dan is close to drifting off when Åsaa says: “There. I see it.”
Dan straightens up and looks ahead. Wedged between two hills is Bergen. The city looks rather strange in the early evening light. Maybe it’s because there aren’t any streetlights on.
“Looks like the power went out,” Åsaa mutters, confirming Dan’s thoughts. “I really hope we won’t find a ghost town.”
“When were the boats supposed to sail out?” Dan asks. “The ones you were told would take you away?”
“This morning,” Åsaa says, clutching the steering wheel. “I fear the last ones may have already left.”
Dan bites his lip. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”
Within twenty minutes, they reach the city limit. The hills turn into open fields with factories forming an industrial area. They’re finally able to get back onto a road as they head into Bergen.
The city is eerily quiet, and the streets are surprisingly non-cluttered by vehicles. It’s almost like the hordes of people trying to reach Bergen never did, instead getting bogged down on the outskirts of the city. There are plenty of other unnerving things cluttering the streets, though, like clothes, bags,
