Finally, the laughter dies down.
“Oh, well,” he says, coughing. “Glad we got that out of the way.”
“Yeah, me too,” she tells him, still hiccupping with laughter.
As they ride on, Dan feels a strange sensation pulsating in his chest. It’s something he hasn’t felt for days. It almost reminds him of being carefree, how it’s like to have no worries bearing down on him, no giant loss weighing down his heart.
Even it’s just for a few moments.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Iver spends most of the day either in his room upstairs, trying to call his parents, or helping Agnete take care of Adam.
So far, he hasn’t been able to get in contact with either his mom or dad, and he suspects the worst. He did receive a short message from his mom yesterday, though, which gives him a slight hope they might be okay.
Tried calling you many times, no service. Heard about the ferry! Hope you’re okay, honey! Please, please call when you can. Dad and I are heading to Oulu in Finland. The military sent busses to evacuate the city. Running out of battery soon. Will call again ASAP. Love you so much. Mom.
The image of his parents being escorted to somewhere safe by the military is comforting, but still he bears no illusions about how rampant this thing is, and that even military protection might not be a guarantee for safety.
Another thing that worries him is RuPaul. Thinking of his best friend being home alone in the apartment makes his heart hurt. Luckily, though, the cat is used to Iver being away for a week or so. He has access to plenty of food and water, so in theory he could survive for months without anybody coming to check on him.
Except he would be pissed at Iver for a day or two—he always is when Iver comes home after a week of work.
But the thing that worries him the most is his own situation. Surprisingly, it’s not so much the dead people outside. Chris has already started organizing the reinforcement of the doors—meaning that he sent Leif down into the basement with a sledgehammer to break open the floor—and they still have plenty of food and water for at least some days.
No, the thing that really worries him is what’s happening between the living people inside the house.
All day he’s been hoping for a chance to speak with Charlotte, but she’s stayed in the guest bedroom downstairs and not answered when Iver knocked on the door. She didn’t come out for lunch or supper, either.
“She’s not hungry?” Linda asked as the rest of them gathered around the meal that Agnete prepared for them.
“She just needs a little more time, I’m sure,” Chris said and dug in with a healthy appetite.
“I hope she’s okay in there,” Agnete remarked.
“Sure, why wouldn’t she be?” Chris said, and then he changed the subject.
Iver heard music playing from inside Charlotte’s room when walking by earlier, which means she’s at least still alive in there.
Charlotte finally comes out an hour after supper. She goes straight to the kitchen and opens the fridge.
Iver is by chance walking through the kitchen just at that moment. “Hey. You all right?”
“I’m fine,” Charlotte says, not turning around.
“You want to talk?”
“No.”
She walks right past him, carrying some leftovers from supper.
“Hey, wait up. There’s something I need to talk with you about.”
Charlotte doesn’t answer or even stop.
Iver catches up with her and stops her right in front of the guest room by grabbing her arm.
“Let go of me,” she sneers.
“Listen,” he says in a low voice, glancing towards the living room. He can hear the television going in there. “We need to talk. I don’t like her any more than you. And I think we might be in trouble.”
Charlotte looks at him briefly, then shrugs. “What do you want me to do about it?”
“I think she’s playing him somehow.”
Charlotte gives him an unpretty smile. “Of course she’s playing him. She runs the show now.”
“You know Chris a lot better than me. Why is he letting himself be manipulated like this?”
Charlotte scoffs. “Isn’t that pretty obvious?”
“Okay, but … isn’t there some way we can talk to him? Make him see what she’s doing?”
Charlotte takes a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to understand, Iver. But Chris is your typical guy. As strong as he is, she’s got the magic wand that’ll make him do whatever she wants. Trust me. If she hasn’t fucked him already, she will soon.”
With those words, Charlotte steps into the room and shuts the door before Iver can ask anything else.
He just stands there for a couple of minutes, chewing his lip. Fake laughter from the living room. They’re watching a sitcom in there.
Iver becomes aware of the sound of banging from the basement. It’s a low, rhythmical sound, and it’s been going on all day. He thought Leif was done for the day, but apparently, he’s working late.
Iver goes and looks into the living room. The television is showing an episode of Friends. It’s the one where Rachel quits. Iver loves that show, and for a moment, he gets lost in the story.
Then he notices only one person sitting there. And it’s Leif.
“Where are the others?” Iver asks, stepping closer.
Leif turns his head. “Oh, sorry, is it too loud? I can turn it down.”
“No, it’s fine. You seen the others?”
“Agnete said goodnight half an hour ago and went upstairs.”
“What about Chris and Linda?”
Leif shrugs. “Linda went out to the garage for a cigarette. Chris, I don’t know.”
“He must be down in the basement,” Iver mutters.
Leif looks at him. “Why you figure that?”
“I heard someone working down there just now. I thought it was you.”
Leif grins and holds up his hands, showing his palms sporting a couple of large,
