“What?” Linda exclaims. “No way we’re bringing that faggot.”
Iver feels a sudden urge to swing the rifle over and point it at Linda instead. But that would be a mistake. First of all because Linda is shielded by the open car door. And secondly, Chris is only four or five steps away and might be tempted to close the distance and wrestle the rifle from Iver if he sees the chance.
“Just take the fucking rifle from him already,” Linda goes on. “He’s not going to use it. Look at him. He’s pretty much pissing himself.”
“Could you shut the fuck up for a moment?” Chris says through gritted teeth.
Linda sends him a mean look, but doesn’t say anything.
Chris looks at Iver. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to leave. We get inside that car, all three of us, we open the garage door, and we plow through those dead fucks outside. Okay?”
“And what then?” Iver asks, feeling sweat run down his back. He realizes he’s doing the same thing as Chris now: stalling him. He’s still hoping that Charlotte or anyone else will come. “We’re on an island, you know. You can’t drive off to anywhere else.”
“I contacted a guy on the east coast over the radio. He has a boat. He’ll take us along in exchange for a weapon. That’s why we need to bring both.” Chris nods down at the rifle in Iver’s hands.
“And where are you going to sail to? There are dead people all over Europe.”
“We’re going to St. Petersburg.”
Iver frowns. “To Russia?”
Chris nods. “I was stationed there. I know some guys, some real tough guys. They have military complexes over there like you wouldn’t believe. Bunkers that are meant to sustain decades of nuclear war.”
“Why are you telling him all this?” Linda cries out. “I told you already, he’s not coming!”
Chris pretends not to listen. “If you keep your cool, you can come with us. You don’t have to go all the way to St. Petersburg if you don’t want to. But you need to get off this island. You know that, right?” Chris raises his eyebrows. “It’s a death trap here. I was hoping the dead couldn’t cross water, but they can. Meaning that more and more of them will be coming, until this whole place is swarming and you can’t step a foot outside. What will you do then, once your supplies of food run out? Grow a wheat field in the living room?” He shakes his head. “We need to scram while we can.”
Iver realizes the rifle has dropped a few inches, and he lifts it back up. “Then what about the others?”
“We can’t bring the whole island with us.”
“No, but I’m talking about Agnete and Charlotte and Leif. And Adam.” Those last two words make his voice tremble. “Are you just going to leave them to die?”
Chris shakes his head slowly. “I’m sorry. I really am. But they’re dead regardless.”
“Not if they get to come!”
“There’s no room. Look at the car—it’s already packed full. Besides, an old lady, a scaredy-cat, and that big dumb guy in there … they’re all just liabilities.” Chris takes a step closer and lowers his voice. “Come with us, Iver. Seriously.”
It’s the first time Iver hears Chris use his name. It was probably intended to instill trust, but Iver feels even more repelled. He steps back. “I’m not leaving them.”
“Listen, this is no longer about doing the right thing. It’s too late for playing the hero. That’s for when the world can still be saved.”
“I’m not trying to play the hero. I just can’t leave them to die.”
“Then you’ll die too. And for what? You’ll just be another corpse. Another fucking zombie the rest of us will have to deal with. You’ll be part of the problem, man. Don’t do it.”
Iver breathes shakily a few times. Then he looks over at Linda, who’s been following the conversation keenly. “What about you? You okay with leaving your uncle like this? Without a word?”
She doesn’t answer, just keeps boring into him with those piercing blue eyes.
“Jesus,” Iver says. “You two really deserve each other.”
“Okay, listen,” Chris says. “You can take the baby with you. If that’ll ease your conscience.”
“What?” Linda asks. “Are you insane?”
“I’m negotiating,” Chris says, staring at Iver. “Go upstairs and get him now. We’ll make the car ready.”
Iver considers for a moment. He really does. He hates himself for it. He knows he can’t trust Chris. But he also knows he’s most likely right about the outlook of staying on the island.
Still, the thought of leaving the three others behind is too much for him. Besides …
“You’ll just drive off while I’m upstairs,” Iver says, his voice sounding weak now.
“We’re not leaving without that rifle,” Chris says. “It’s our ticket out of here.”
Iver shakes his head. “I’m not doing it.”
Chris’s expression changes slightly. It grows darker. “Then you understand you leave me no choice, right? If we can’t make a deal, I’ll just have to take the rifle from you.” He steps closer.
“Stay back!” Iver says, his voice breaking. His back hits the wall next to the door.
Chris doesn’t stay back. In fact, he’s about to lunge at Iver.
Then a big, broad figure steps in through the doorway. “What’s going on here?” Leif asks in a groggy voice, peering around at them with narrow eyes. “What’s all the commotion about? Hey, how did you get my car in here?” Leif sees the rifle in Iver’s hands. “And what the heck are you doing, Iver?”
Chris hesitates.
So does Iver.
None of them knows what to do or say.
Linda does. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she says and steps over to the wall and presses a button.
A metallic rattling as the garage door begins lifting.
“No, no!” Chris cries out. “What the hell are you doing?”
“You guys figure things out,” Linda says as she slips in behind the wheel. “I’m done talking.”
She slams the door and the engine roars to life.
