Finally, Birgit steps backwards, her eyes darting from William to Dan, the dagger still in her hand.
“Come down here and close the hatch!” William shouts—unnecessarily so, because Liv is already coming down the ladder.
She slams the hatch and locks it, looking at William: “What about your dog?”
“He’ll be fine, don’t worry about him.”
Liv climbs down and joins them.
For a moment, they all just stand there, staring at each other: Dan, William and Liv in close formation, Birgit alone a few yards away.
“So far, so good,” William says, as Dan can hear fingers begin to scratch the fake well cover from above. “Now everyone just stay calm …”
“You’ll never get into the bunker,” Birgit says.
“Shut your mouth. And put down that fucking blade you’re holding. What the hell is that, anyway? Looks like something from Game of Thrones.”
“I’ll put down mine if you put down yours,” Birgit tells him calmly.
William grinds his teeth. “Listen, you fucking psycho. I know you’re probably used to bossing people around, but you’re no longer in charge here, so put down that goddamn mini-sword, or I’ll shoot it out of your hand.”
“William,” Dan says.
“Not now,” William says. “Do it, lady. Last warning.”
Birgit doesn’t look like she’s about to put down the dagger. She just stares at William, daring him.
“You really are fucking nuts,” William says, taking a deep breath. “Okay, I’m going to have to shoot her. I suggest you cover your ears …”
“William,” Dan says again, placing a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. Put it down.”
William darts one quick look sideways. “Put what down? The rifle? Are you out of your mind? She’ll come at us if I do that.”
“No,” Dan says, looking over at Birgit. “She won’t.”
Birgit looks back at him, saying nothing, but Dan can tell she tries hard to read him.
“We’re done fighting,” Dan goes on, talking to all of them now. “No more killing each other. From now on, we’ll work together. We’ll find a way to end all this. Right?”
He looks from Birgit to William.
Birgit doesn’t say or do anything; she simply waits to see what happens.
William hesitates, clearly fighting himself.
Dan reaches out and puts his hand on the barrel of the rifle, pushing it gently towards the floor. William resists at first, then lets the rifle drop. He straightens up and looks at Birgit.
Suddenly, the distance between them seems very short. Birgit could close it in less than a second, a lot faster than William could get the rifle back up, and Dan can feel how keenly they’re all aware of that fact.
So he steps forward.
“No, Dan,” William begins, grabbing for his shoulder.
“It’s okay,” Dan says, slipping past him. He stops in front of Birgit and looks up at her—she’s a full foot taller than him. “We’re done fighting,” he repeats softly. “Let’s go inside and talk.”
Then he simply walks past her, the sleeve of his T-shirt brushing against her arm—the one holding the dagger. He walks on down the tunnel. Then, as he senses the others aren’t coming, he stops and turns around.
“You guys coming?”
Liv, William and Birgit are all still standing there, uncertain what to do.
William is the one to break the silence with a snorting laughter. “Jesus Christ, the balls on that guy!”
Liv begins walking, passing by Birgit while giving her one brief look before joining Dan. Then William shrugs and walks past her, too, the rifle by his side. And finally, reluctantly and without a word, Birgit turns and joins them in walking back through the tunnel.
TWENTY-THREE
“Dennis?”
Mom’s voice through the door.
Dennis gets up from the terminal. He’s been following along on the screens, staring in horror as Dan was the first one to appear back inside the house, then the girl came out of the cabinet, followed by the other, older guy. For a brief moment, Dennis felt absolute panic at the thought of them having killed Mom and left her down in the tunnel.
But then, to his amazement, Mom appeared from the cabinet as well, looking unharmed. It looked almost like the four of them had made some sort of truce.
They went to the kitchen, exchanged a few awkward looks before Mom went on to the bedroom, from where she climbed down the hatch to the bunker. The three intruders are still in the kitchen, helping themselves to the fridge, as Mom knocks the metal door.
“It’s me, Dennis. You can open up.”
Dennis unlocks the door and opens it.
He halfway expects Mom to come in and slam the door, having played some sort of trick on the intruders, so as to make it safely down to the bunker.
But she doesn’t come in, she just stands there.
“What … what happened, Mom? Why are they in the house?”
“They’ve come to talk,” Mom says, sounding like the words are difficult to utter. “I agreed to it.”
Dennis blinks. “So they … they weren’t lying after all?”
“I don’t know. We still have to be careful. Okay?”
Dennis nods. “Okay, Mom. So now what?”
Mom darts a look over at the screens showing the three newcomers in the kitchen, eating. “Now we go back up there and talk. I want you there, too.”
Dennis shakes his head. “I can’t, Mom. Dan must hate me after what I did.”
“He’s not angry,” Mom assures him. “And he won’t do anything to hurt you. I’ll make sure of that. Come on, now.”
Dennis follows Mom back into the house, feeling a strange mixture of different feelings like amazement, confusion and anxiety all at once.
They find the three newcomers in the kitchen, all three sitting down by the table, shoveling in food. They’ve taken out bread, ham, cheese, fruit and other stuff from the fridge.
The guy with the tattoos looks up briefly at them and says with his mouth full: “We haven’t eaten anything real for days.”
“I can tell,” Mom says in a cool voice.
Dan looks at Dennis, finishes chewing, then says: “Hi again, Dennis.”
“Uhm, hi,” Dennis says, feeling immensely awkward. “Sorry for … locking
