The hinges on the door turned out to be more durable than Iver first feared. But between the occasional thrust against the door and the sheer pressure of the crowd of zombies, it wouldn’t last for long.
Now, the sun has long since come up and is blazing in through the windows. Adam is awake and crying now and then. Agnete comforts him as best she can, but the boy is hungry. So is Iver. He’s also dead tired and his arms are killing him from working the wall. His palms have grown blisters, but he can’t slow down, so he’s pushing through the pain.
He’s pried free three bricks by now, and just as he begins working on the fourth, the lower hinge on the door gives way. It simply falls off, landing on the floor with a metallic sound.
Iver freezes and stares at it.
The door swings into the room a few inches at the bottom. It’s not enough for any of the zombies to squeeze through, since the upper hinge is still clinging on, but they reach in their arms and grope for anything to grab onto.
Adam begins crying when he sees them.
Agnete picks him up and turns away, looking at Iver with big, scared eyes. “Are we going to make it?”
“Yes,” Iver hears himself say, then he begins hammering away at the bricks. He goes into a frenzy, clubbing the wall like a wild man, feeling the painful jolts run up through his arm, but he doesn’t care, he wants those last two bricks out right now, and he’s not going to relent before they give way.
And they do within half a minute. They loosen up at the same time and plummet through the hole into the bathroom.
“Ready!” Iver shouts, dropping the candlestick and darting a look over at the door, where one guy has now pushed his head through, glaring at them with his white eyes, clapping his teeth hungrily. The door looks like it could give up any second. In fact, Iver can’t tell what’s holding that last hinge in place.
“Give him to me!” Iver shouts, holding out his arms.
“You climb through first,” Agnete says. “Then I’ll hand him to you.”
Iver doesn’t want to waste time arguing, so he simply hoists himself up and climbs through to the bathroom. The air duct is right above the toilet, so he can step down onto the seat, spin around and reach his arms back through the hole.
Agnete hands him the crying toddler. “Careful! Don’t bump his head.”
Iver pulls Adam through the wall, and just as he does so, there’s a crunching sound from the bedroom followed by a bang.
That was the door …
Iver sees Agnete dart a glance to the side and knows he’s right.
“Come on!” he shouts, holding Adam on one arm and reaching the other one back, trying to grab Agnete. “Come on, Agnete! Hurry!”
But the look on her face tells him all he needs.
She stares at them through the hole, smiling. “Take care of him, Iver.”
“No! Agnete, no!”
But she has already ducked down out of sight. At first, Iver thinks she has lain down, but then she comes back up, holding the night table. She flings it aside, effectively cutting herself off from climbing through the hole—but also making sure none of the deads can do the same.
Then, just as the first zombie staggers into view, Iver steps down from the toilet, squeezing Adam tightly and closing his eyes. He wants badly to cover his ears, but instead he uses his free hand to cover Adam’s ear, pressing the other one against his head as the toddler cries.
To Iver’s great relief, though, Agnete doesn’t scream.
TWENTY-TWO
The light comes from somewhere overhead. But it’s not celestial as Dan first thought. It’s plain old sunlight.
He opens his eyes after what feels like several minutes, but what is more likely only a couple of seconds.
And he sees a figure come jumping down from above, landing beside him, straightening up and pointing a rifle at Birgit, who stops only eight or ten feet away, the bright light painting her face white and causing her to squint.
The person besides him says something, but Dan’s hearing has tuned out and he can’t interpret the words. Instead, he turns his head and looks at William.
This is a dream. I’m probably already dead. Then, almost making himself smile, he thinks: William must be an angel.
William looks very much alive and temporal, though. He’s holding the rifle firmly against his shoulder, nudging Dan backwards with one elbow while staring fixedly at Birgit. And as he speaks again, Dan is able to understand him.
“You heard me, lady: stay back, or I’ll blow your fucking head off!”
“William?” Dan hears himself asking, his voice sounding bemused more than anything.
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” William says without looking at him. “This was a pretty close call, huh?”
“How did you … I don’t understand.”
“Let’s save it for later. Right now, we need to deal with psycho-lady here.”
“You okay down there?” a voice asks from above.
Dan looks up to see Liv peering down through the opening. From somewhere behind her, Dan can hear Ozzy panting and whimpering.
“We’re fine,” William says, still not moving his eyes from Birgit. “Step back, please.”
Birgit doesn’t move. Instead, she turns her head and looks at Dan. “I thought you said you weren’t coming to take back the house?”
“We’re not,” Dan says earnestly, still only halfway convinced this isn’t some sort of dream.
“It’s true, we weren’t,” William confirms. “Not until you decided to kill him anyway. Now, move back! I’m not telling you again.”
“Mom?” a voice calls from down the tunnel. “What’s happening?”
“Go back inside, Dennis!” Birgit calls over her shoulder. “Get down to the bunker right away! Lock yourself in there and don’t—”
“Shut the fuck up!” William shouts.
“—let anyone in, no matter what they say!”
“Stop talking!”
“Go, Dennis! Go, now!”
“I told you to—”
“William!” Liv cuts him off. “They’re coming back!”
Ozzy starts barking up there.
“Move!” William roars, stepping forward and jabbing the rifle
