“Leif got himself … he’s infected.”
He can hear Agnete gasp.
Iver goes over to Leif. He has to force himself to move his feet. He knows that Leif wouldn’t hurt him or try to infect him, but still it’s an effort just to come closer.
“Leif,” he says softly, causing Leif to lift his head and look at him. His eyes are glazed over, the obvious look of someone who’s just been told they’ve got less than an hour to live. “I’m really sorry about this. I am. But we need to figure out something before you … I hope you understand.”
Leif doesn’t exactly look like he understands, but he nods. “It’s okay, Iver. You don’t need to worry. I’ll show myself out.”
Iver glances over at the door. “You sure that’s a good idea? I mean, as soon as you open the door, they’ll push themselves inside.”
“Oh, right,” Leif says, as though he’d forgotten all about the zombies in the hallway. He rubs his forehead. “Well, I don’t know then …”
Iver bites his lip. “It might be better if I could get out of here.”
“Uh-huh,” Leif says, but he’s obviously not listening any more. He’s resumed staring at the floor, holding his injured wrist, where the skin is already turning pink around the scratch marks.
Iver goes over to the window again and opens it a second time. He looks down at the crowd of zombies. He’s far too high up to make the jump without breaking bones, even if the zombies hadn’t been there.
He looks to the sides. Then up.
The window is located right below the rain gutter. He can reach it. He might even be able to pull himself onto the roof. From there, he could theoretically reach the other windows—like the one to the bedroom on the other side.
But it would be a very risky move.
Right now, though, it looks like his only chance. He goes back over to the door. “Agnete? You hear me?”
“I do.”
“I’ll try and make it onto the roof. Then I’ll come to your window. We’ll have to figure out some way for me to get into your room. Okay?”
“Okay,” Agnete says, sounding hesitant.
“I know it’s dangerous, but there’s no other way. I’ll call to you once I’m up there.”
“Okay, Iver. Be careful.”
Iver goes back to Leif. “Listen,” he says. “I’ll be going now.”
Leif looks up at him, looking like a sleepwalker. “Going where?”
“Out the window. I’ll climb onto the roof and try and make it to Agnete’s bedroom.”
“Oh,” Leif says. “That’s a good idea.”
“I could use your help,” Iver goes on. “Getting up there, I mean. You think you can support me? I know it’s a lot to ask, but—”
“Oh, no, sure,” Leif says, getting to his feet. “I might as well do some good while I’m still … you know.”
“Thanks, Leif,” Iver says, smiling. “You’re a good guy.”
“You think I’ll get to see her again?”
The question seems to come out of nowhere.
“See who?” Iver asks.
“My old mother?”
Iver feels a lump in his throat as he recalls Leif telling him about his mother dying of cancer not that long ago. He nods. “I think there’s a good chance you just might.”
Leif smiles dreamily. “I sure hope so. That would be nice. You know, I’ve missed her terribly since she died. I never had any kids of my own, so she was kind of all I had.”
“I understand,” Iver says, swallowing hard to keep his voice from shaking. “Listen, Leif, I hate to rush things, but we should get going before you lose your strength.”
“Sure thing. Let’s do it.”
FIVE
“We’ve filled the underground tunnel with gasoline.”
Dennis is standing by the foot of the stairs. He hasn’t turned on the lights in the room, and it’s very dark. Yet his eyes have had plenty of time to adjust, and he can make out the cabinet door underneath the stairs just fine.
He listens to the silence of the house.
Mom is downstairs, in the bunker, sleeping.
From outside comes the faint moan now and then from the deads surrounding the house—Dennis is more or less used to them by now and barely hears them.
What he hears the loudest is his own heartbeat. It’s pounding away on the inside of his eardrums.
The can is heavy in his hand. If he moves it slightly, he can feel the liquid slosh around in there.
“We’ve filled the underground tunnel with gasoline.”
Mom’s voice again, playing in his memory.
“If anyone tries to force their way in, we’ll light a match and burn the intruders alive.”
Mom was bluffing, of course. They hadn’t poured out the gasoline—it was all still in the can. But had the people in the car tried to make their way in, Mom would have gone ahead, turning her threat into reality.
They didn’t, though.
But the big, red can has been sitting here, next to the cupboard under the staircase, ever since. Just in case they came back, Mom had told him.
Mom has no idea that one of them is coming back this very night. In a matter of minutes, actually. And he’s brought company, even though he swore to Dennis he was coming alone.
Which means he was lying about everything else as well. Dan obviously isn’t coming to find a cure for the undead people—he’s coming to steal the safe house back.
Dennis won’t let that happen, though.
A tremor runs through his body, starting from his calves and working its way up through his buttocks and back to his shoulders. It’s accompanied by a strong urge to run downstairs and tell Mom everything.
Dennis breathes in deeply and forces himself to stay put. Running to Mom was something the other Dennis would do. The younger Dennis. The Dennis who hadn’t fired a gun.
The new Dennis is determined to handle this on his own. He already took that decision when he didn’t tell Mom about the call on the satellite phone. In a way, it’s his own fault; after all, he let Dan talk him into his plan about him
