But it won’t hold forever; the push from the horde of zombies is simply too much. Iver can tell it’ll budge sooner or later.
It could be days. It could be only hours.
For now, though, they’re good.
The sound of the deads is also intruding from the hole in the wall above the toilet. Iver managed to jam the stool into the opening, then used the shower curtain to cover it up. It wasn’t much, but at least it blocked the view to the zombies.
The hole was up high enough anyway that none of the zombies could see through it, and they could only just reach it with their groping hands. Which meant that Iver wasn’t particularly worried they would make it through—not unless they suddenly learned to jump.
There was of course the possibility that one could climb onto another, maybe if one fell down, the others would simply tread on him and use him as a stepping stone. But so far, that hasn’t happened, and with the stool jammed into the hole, they would have a hard time squeezing through to the bathroom anyway.
Iver should be sleeping, he knows that. He’ll be needing his strength.
But he can’t. Not right now.
Instead, he’s working on the handle bar. It’s secured to the wall right next to the tub. It’s one of those U-shaped ones you see in old people’s homes, the ones they use for support when stepping in and out of the bath.
Iver is using the coin he had in his pocket to slowly and meticulously loosen the screws holding the bar. It’s heavy enough that it’ll provide him with an effective weapon.
And he knows he’ll be needing it.
Because the zombies won’t stop until they manage to break down the door.
And there’s no other way out; the window is too tiny to get through.
Even though it’ll be futile to fight back against several hundred zombies, Iver is going to do it anyway. The alternative—just letting the deads have at him and the toddler—is too gruesome to even think about.
So, when the time comes, Iver will fight back. He will try to be brave. Like Leif was. Like Agnete was.
If not for himself, then for Adam. He owes the little guy that much.
He looks at him, his round, pale face glowing in the darkness of the tub.
“I’m sorry, buddy,” Iver whispers, his voice breaking. “It’s quite the mess I got you into. I’m sorry.”
He can’t believe they’re all gone. It all happened so fast. Within a couple of hours.
Now it’s just him and Adam.
And soon, they’ll be dead too.
Iver feels the tears begin to spill down his cheeks. He doesn’t do anything to wipe them away. Instead, he turns back to the wall and continues working on unscrewing the bar, ignoring the sounds from the door.
At least he’ll go down swinging.
THIRTY-NINE
Dan is sitting in Holger’s kitchen, staring at his hands resting in his lap. He’s dead tired. Now that the ritual is over, he can finally feel his energy crashing.
William comes out from the living room. “There you are.”
Dan looks up, barely able to hold his head. “How are they?”
William sits down across from him. “They’re fine as far as we can tell. Physically, anyway. They all ate something and drank a lot of water. They’re also doing pretty well mentally, considering what they been through. They can’t remember being out, but they almost all remember what led up to it. They can recite their names and social security numbers. They can talk and read and give us things like who’s prime minister and what’s five times five, so I’m very hopeful.”
Dan nods. “That’s great news. I really wasn’t expecting that to happen. Did anyone else come back?”
William shakes his head. “So far, only the five of them.” He nods towards the courtyard. “I went out to count them. We cured 104 people total. Five of them coming back is close to five percent.”
Dan just nods. He’s too tired to think.
“This is really big news,” William goes on. “If this is an accurate sample, then 5 percent of the people who died from this thing will come back to life once we break the curse.”
“I know,” Dan says, blinking.
Liv and Dennis join them from the living room.
“You guys ready to shoot the film?” William asks.
“We are,” Dennis says. “I have the camera ready. We just need another … you know, a dead guy.”
“That’s not going to be a problem,” William says, nodding towards the window. “There are already eight more out there. Don’t worry, they are newcomers, I made sure. The others are still just lying around.”
“How is it even possible?” Liv asks in a low voice, nodding towards the living room, from where they can hear the five survivors talking with each other. “I mean, they were dead, right? They weren’t just cursed; they were medically dead too.”
“They were,” William nods. “We talked with a doctor who ran tests and confirmed that. They had no pulse, no heartbeat, no brainwaves. They were most definitely fucking dead.”
“They were,” Dan says, repressing a yawn. “But their souls might not have been far away.”
“How’d that work?” William asks.
“From what I know about voodoo, it kind of makes sense,” Dan says. “Birgit explained that what we’re doing when breaking the curse is opening the doorway for the Big Angel to rush in and clean the curse out. It means we’re basically finishing what would have happened if the curse hadn’t been there to keep them artificially alive.”
“Right, so why do some come back?”
“Because their Little Angel is still present,” Dan says. “That’s the only explanation I can think of, anyway. The Little Angel is our individual soul, our personality or whatever you want to call it. It’s different from the collective life force.”
“So, if the person hasn’t fully left,” Liv goes on, “and the life force comes streaming in, it won’t kill them—it will, like, reignite
