There is also the more obvious telltale: bodies lie on every corner. It’s people of all ages, all sporting more or less visible wounds. Judging from their grey skin, most of them were already dead when they were killed.
Dan tries not to look too closely at their faces as they make their way through the streets.
“Looks like this place was overrun sooner than they expected,” Dan says grimly.
“You think that means the boats haven’t left yet?” Åsaa asks, obvious hope in her voice, as she swerves to avoid a tipped-over shopping cart.
“Either that, or they left even sooner,” Dan says.
The deeper into the city they go, the more zombies also appear. It’s nothing like the horde they encountered out at the highway, more like drifters and small gangs. They seem to be either aimlessly sweeping the streets or gathering around certain buildings.
“Guess someone’s still alive here,” Åsaa remarks, pointing up at a building. From the third floor, a white sheet is dangling from a window. Someone wrote on it in red paint: HELP
Dan has already noticed several places where pale faces are staring out from windows, and he’s guessing that several thousand people might still be hiding in Bergen, as they managed to barricade themselves in their homes.
They cross an intersection where two cars have collided and are left abandoned. A guy is hanging from the open door of one of them, his head busted open.
“Is that the harbor?” Dan asks, pointing ahead to where a blue band has become visible between the buildings.
“I think so.”
As they drive on, the street grows more and more crowded. Several cars are left on the road, and in more than one place, Åsaa needs to drive onto the sidewalk to get past.
There’s the sound of gunfire somewhere. Then silence once more.
A minivan has crashed into a light post and thirty-something zombies have gathered around it, pushing and shoving to get in front, like eager fans hoping to get a glimpse of a celebrity.
“Should we stop and try to help?” Åsaa asks meekly, her voice betraying what she hopes the answer might be.
“No,” Dan says, breathing through his nose as they pass by the group of zombies—a couple of the closest ones turn around briefly to grab at the BMW before turning back towards the minivan. “If we couldn’t help William, we won’t be able to help whoever is in that car either.”
“You’re probably right,” Åsaa sighs.
Dan picks up on a sound of an engine coming closer fast, and he looks in the mirror, expecting to see a car coming up from behind, but there’s nothing.
Instead, a fighter jet comes out of nowhere and swoops overhead. Even inside the car, the sound is deafening for a couple of seconds before finally dying out.
Åsaa and Dan exchange a long look.
“You think … you think they’re going to bomb the city?” Åsaa asks.
“I don’t know,” Dan says. “I hope not. Not as long as there are still survivors.”
But the truth is, he stopped paying attention to the news several days ago. For all he knows, the world could be collapsing and the governments could be at all-out war against the zombies.
“Hey, maybe they’re saying something on the local station,” Åsaa says and turns the radio on to another channel, finding static at first, then a male voice speaking Norwegian in a grave tone.
“… urgent message to the citizens of Bergen: Stay indoors at all times. Avoid contact with others at all cost. This goes for close relatives as well if they themselves have been in contact with an infected person. There’s no reason for panic. Help is coming. The military is fighting the disease and we will win. I repeat this urgent message to the citizens of Bergen …”
Even before the message can play a second time, Dan reaches over and turns the volume down. “He’s lying,” he says hoarsely.
“Maybe he’s just trying to give people hope,” Åsaa suggests.
“That’s still a lie.”
They’re quiet for a moment.
“I watched that clip with the American president,” Åsaa goes on. “You seen it?”
“No?”
“It was yesterday, I think, or maybe the day before that. He said that … if this thing doesn’t get under control soon, they would … ‘use great force’ … I think that’s how he put it.”
Dan vaguely recalls William saying something about it. “He means nuclear weapons, doesn’t he?”
Åsaa swallows audibly, then nods. “Erik was sure this would lead to World War 3. He said America would start bombing Europe to kill the infected before they could reach the States. But he said that the rest of the UN would answer back if that happened, and that would draw Russia and China and India into the conflict.” She shakes her head as her eyes grow distant. “We’ll probably kill each other before the infection can.”
NINETEEN
“You okay back there, Grandpa?”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“Just watch the road, damnit!”
Liv swerves to avoid a camper left in the middle of the road.
“Christ, you moron!” Grandpa shouts from the backseat. “I told you to look out! You’ll lose the damn thing if you’re not careful, and it’ll all have been for nothing!”
Liv checks the mirror and sees the jet ski strapped to the trailer. It’s rocking back and forth, threatening to topple over, before it comes to rest again.
Getting the jet ski onto the trailer was a nightmare—Liv still can’t believe they actually did it with just the two of them. It is lightweight, of course, weighing only a little over four hundred pounds, but still quite the task for a teenager and her granddad. It took them almost half an hour. Liv will definitely be sore tomorrow.
Getting the jet ski cost them more than just a backache, though.
Liv’s eyes go
