I made it, Iver thinks, closing his eyes for a second. I’m safe …
THREE
Dan sits up with a jerk, returning abruptly to a wakened state, the half-dream, half-memory breaking up and dissolving like smoke around him.
He’s on a hilltop at the break of dawn, the grass around him is wet from dew and a white mist is hovering all around.
To his right is William, who looks like he was also just sleeping, but is now sitting upright, looking around confused and alert.
A few yards away, almost lost in the mist, is the contour of Ozzy, looking out at something not visible to Dan. His tail is low and the hairs on his back are standing up straight. He’s growling from deep in his throat.
“Ozzy smells something,” William says, jumping to his feet. “We’d better get moving.”
Dan tries to stand up as well, but his left leg is asleep from lying on the ground. He’s also freezing, which he hasn’t even noticed until now, his limbs stiff and reluctant to move. He picks up his backpack and the rod and limps after William, who is already headed down the hill.
“Ozzy!” he calls out in a loud whisper. “Heel!”
The dog stops growling and joins them, but he keeps looking back.
“You think it was a zombie?” Dan asks.
“Could have been,” William says. “Could also have been an animal of some kind. I prefer not knowing. Either way, it was a good thing we got out of there.”
They walk on in silence through the foggy air and the wet heather. Ozzy is patrolling up ahead, running back and forth to make sure they’re following.
Dan’s brain is finally waking up properly. He recalls the dream he was having just before Ozzy woke him. It was about his father. They were back home. Everything was back to normal. Almost.
“I’ll never let you go, Dad.”
That’s what Dan said in the dream. As the words echo in his mind, they somehow drive home the fact that his family is gone in a way he hadn’t grasped before, and it’s all he can do to not start crying.
He doesn’t want to cry. Not in front of William. Not in front of anyone, in fact. He needs to keep it in, to bottle up his emotions until this is over.
Because there just might be a slight chance that this whole mess can be fixed. And if it can, then Dan needs to keep it together and do what’s necessary. He needs to stay strong. Needs to keep his focus. Billions of lives might depend on it. Billions of families which might still be saved.
And if they can’t? If this crazy quest he’s embarked upon—and convinced William to join him on—turns out to be for nothing? If the curse or whatever is animating all the dead people can’t be reversed? Or if the lady at Holger’s house doesn’t even want to try?
Then Dan will allow himself to cry. But only then.
He takes a shaky breath. He has no idea if he can make it. Right now, just reaching Denmark seems like an impossible mountain to climb.
But then he calls to mind Jennie’s face. And Thomas’s. Then Mom’s. Dorte’s. Nasira’s. And finally Dad’s.
All of those people are gone because of this thing. None of them stood a chance. But they’re still here, somehow, right inside Dan’s mind. He can see them clearly, hear their voices. And he feels very connected to every one of them.
That’s how I’ll do it, he tells himself, breathing in again and this time exhaling from the bottom of his belly, letting out some of the fear and sorrow along with it. I’ll do it because I owe it to all of them.
He suddenly doesn’t feel alone. It’s not just because William is walking next to him. It’s also because none of the people he knew are really gone. Not as long as Dan is breathing. Which means there’s still hope. As tiny as it might be.
That’s what the dream was meant to tell him. That’s why he told his dad he’s never letting him go.
Dan fills his lungs once more, feeling to his surprise an ounce of courage. I’ll see this through. Even if it won’t work. Even if I die trying. Because at least that way we will have a chance.
FOUR
Iver sits up and looks back down the hatch.
Seven—no, eight—zombies are all looking back up at him with their dead, white eyes, reaching for him with bloody hands.
They’ve managed to push the table far enough to the side that, should any of them get the unlikely idea of climbing onto it, they still wouldn’t be able to reach the opening.
Iver sees Fred, who’s lying curled up on the floor, not moving and apparently not breathing, either.
Still more dead people are joining the fun as they manage to climb in through the busted window.
Iver notices Fred’s left arm starts jerking, and then the old guy opens his eyes. For a moment, Iver takes it to mean that he’s regaining consciousness, but then Fred turns his face up at him, revealing his blank eyes and snarling, yellow teeth as he gets up and joins the rest of the living dead in reaching fruitlessly for Iver.
He looks away and takes a deep breath, focusing instead on the attic.
It’s very old and dusty, the floor made of rugged planks, the naked underside of the roof tiles serving as the ceiling. There are no windows up here, which means it’s also very dark. Iver can make out a bunch of cardboard boxes and plastic bags all covered in dust and cobwebs.
There’s something else too. A big, red box which somehow doesn’t fit in with the rest of the stuff. It’s completely clean and has obviously been put up here very recently.
For some reason, Iver feels drawn to find out what’s in it, so he goes and checks. He sees a ton of bullet casings pretty similar to the ones Agnete was keeping.
Fred, you
