It finally dawns on Iver what she means. He glances down at his hands, turning them over. “See, there’s nothing. I told you, I’m fine.”
The man turns in the seat to look back at Iver. “He seems fine to me, Linda. I don’t think they got him.”
“He could have had a scratch already before we came,” the woman—Linda—says immediately. “We can’t take any chances.”
“Look, really, I would tell you if I was infected,” Iver says. “But I’m not. Honestly.”
He looks from one to the other. There’s a moment of silence inside the car. From the outside, there’s the scraping of nails, pushing, shoving and moaning from the undead.
“We already trusted one person who gave us her word,” Linda says coolly. “I’m not making that mistake again.”
“All right, well … what do you want me to do?”
“Strip.”
Iver raises his eyebrows. “Are you serious?”
Not a trace of a smile on the woman’s face. “Do I look serious?”
Iver sighs, then pulls off his shirt. “There.”
The woman glances down at his bare torso briefly, then back up at his face. She doesn’t lower the knife even an inch. “All of it.”
“All of it? You mean my pants, too?”
“I mean all of it.”
Iver scoffs and looks to Leif, but he just shrugs. “I guess it’s only fair, buddy.”
Iver considers for a moment. Strangely, even though he was just running from zombies a second ago, narrowly avoiding getting eaten alive, the prospect of stripping down naked in front of two strangers is almost worse. Even though he understands logically why they’re forcing him to do it, it still feels like abuse.
The image of Adam pops into his head. “So, if I do this, you promise to take me home?”
“Sure,” Leif says.
“If you’re clean,” Linda corrects, not taking her eyes of Iver.
“And if I’m not?”
She doesn’t say anything, she just nods almost imperceptibly towards the door, and Iver gets the idea.
If I got even the slightest scratch, they’re kicking me back out there …
He takes a deep breath, then bends down and begins untying his shoe.
NINE
“Holy crap. I was sure for a moment I had to shoot her.”
Dan looks at William, who runs a hand through his hair.
“I mean, shooting zombies is bad enough, but killing someone who’s still alive …” He shakes his head.
“Good thing you didn’t. She wasn’t infected after all.”
“I know.”
Dan darts a glance back, seeing nothing but the hilly landscape and the fog.
“She’s not coming,” William tells him.
“You’re probably right,” Dan mutters as they trudge on.
They’ve already been walking for twenty minutes or so since they left the woman.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” William says. “I called my mom yesterday.”
“Your mom’s in Holland, right?”
“Not anymore. She was on a plane headed for Africa.”
“Africa?”
William nods. “The government is transporting as many people as possible out of Europe. She said they’d set up some sort of camps close to a military base in Algeria. It’s out in the desert, so I guess it’s pretty safe and easy to defend.”
Dan bites his lip. “I’m glad they’re finally taking things seriously. Who knows? They might be able to save a lot people.”
“Yeah, but for how long?” William shrugs. “I mean, unless they either kill every last zombie on the face of the planet, or we find a way to stop it from spreading, it’s really a losing battle; they’ll be fighting off dead people for years. Even a military base will run out of ammo at some point.”
Dan considers it for a moment. “So much more reason for us doing this.”
William seems like he’s about to answer, when Ozzy suddenly darts a look back and gives a brief, meaningful yelp.
Dan and William both spin around.
“Huh,” William says, lowering the rifle again. “I was sure we’d lost you.”
Dan feels relief at the sight of the woman coming out of the fog, the coat still wrapped around her, her hair wet.
She looks up at them with a faint expression. “I followed your footprints.”
Dan looks down and realizes they’ve left a trail through the wet dew.
“Good for you,” William says. “You can come with us.”
The woman gives a silent nod and joins them as they walk on. A minute of awkward silence follows, as neither William nor Dan knows what to say or where to look. The woman is walking between them, glancing down at her bare feet.
“So, what’s your name?” William asks.
The woman looks up at him. “Åsaa.”
“That’s a pretty name. I’m William and this is Dan.”
She looks from William to Dan, then back again. “Are you guys Danish?”
“What gave us away?” William asks. “Our great sense of humor?”
“No,” the woman says earnestly. “It was your accents.”
“I figured,” William mutters. “I was being sarcastic.”
“Oh,” the woman says, blinking. “I heard you talking about a military camp …”
Dan and William exchange a look.
“Yeah?” William prompts, as the woman seems to forget how to end the sentence.
“There’s one in Finland, too.”
“Really?”
“Yes. They’re taking us there. The military. They said boats would be leaving from Bergen this morning. We were supposed to go, me and Erik, we … we were supposed to …” The words die out as the woman’s eyes grow distant.
“Bergen?” William says. “There’s a harbor in Bergen?”
The woman looks at him like she forgot he was there. Then she nods.
“How far is it to Bergen?”
The woman shrugs. “Twenty-five miles, I guess.”
William looks at Dan. “Twenty-five miles to the nearest harbor. We can probably find a boat there that can take us back to Denmark.”
“Denmark?” the woman asks, her voice rising slightly in alarm. “Why would you want to go to Denmark? That’s where it all started. They said the country is completely swamped with infected people. I really don’t think you should go there. You should come to Finland.”
“Is that where you’re going?” William asks.
The woman shrugs. “I don’t know where else to go. Everyone around here … they’re all … you know …”
“We would love to come,” Dan says, smiling meekly. “But we have to go back to Denmark.”
William adds: “It’s a long
