But he lied. Dan lied to him.
Which is why Dennis is determined to see this to the end on his own. Preferably without Mom even knowing.
The weapon is tucked in his pants, resting against his lower back. He brought it down here, convinced he was going to use it. Then he saw the gas can and decided that was a better solution.
First of all, it won’t wake up Mom.
And secondly, there’s much less risk of it going wrong.
Firing a gun at someone isn’t a guarantee to put them out of action. Lighting them on fire, on the other hand, that will do the trick ten out of ten times.
It’s time to get moving. They’ll be here any minute.
Dennis takes another deep breath, then opens the cupboard and steps inside. He pushes the back of the cupboard, producing a low click and causing the wooden surface to swing open like a door.
He peers down into the tunnel. There are ten or twelve steps leading down to the tunnel, which will take him to the ladder, which in turn leads to the hidden cover in the courtyard.
Dennis doesn’t need to go down there, though, which is another great thing about the gasoline plan: he can stay right where he is. He already unlocked the hatch earlier this evening, back when he still believed Dan had good intentions.
Now, he places the can between his feet and unscrews the plug. Then he tilts the whole thing and the gasoline starts spilling down the stairs. Dennis holds it, listens to the can gurgle and the gasoline splashing. The smell of it fills the air.
Once the can is about half-empty, he can tell there’s already a puddle by the foot of the stairs. The tunnel slopes down slightly, and the gasoline flows on towards the ladder.
Dennis decides it’s enough. He puts the can aside, taking his time to screw the plug back on.
He picks up the box of matches and takes one out. He closes the secret door almost all the way, leaving open a gap just wide enough to peer through.
Then he begins waiting.
SIX
Iver steps onto the windowsill.
Leif grabs him by the belt, enabling him to lean out. He twists halfway around and reaches up both hands to grab the rain gutter. It’s cold and moist from dew, but it’s firmly secured to the roof and it feels like it will be able to hold his weight as he climbs up.
“Okay,” Iver says. “I’m going up now. You just hold on until I tell you, okay?”
“Sure,” Leif says.
Iver stands up slowly, using his hands to pull himself up. Standing tall, the rain gutter is level with his chin. He’ll have to pull himself the rest of the way.
“Okay, let go, Leif.”
Leif’s hand releases its hold on his belt, and for a moment Iver just stands there, his feet on the windowsill, his hands grasping the gutter, his weight leaned back out over the eighteen-foot drop behind him ending in zombies.
“Here we go,” he whispers to himself. “You can do it.”
He breathes deeply, then pushes off the windowsill and pulls himself upwards. The gutter gives off a loud, metallic scream, and for a moment Iver is sure it’ll give way, but it doesn’t, even though it complains audibly as he scrambles his way up onto the roof.
Luckily, Agnete’s roof is very different from the one on Fred’s house. This one is a lot less steep, and it’s covered with roofing felt instead of tiles, which provides him with a way firmer grip.
He sits up and climbs away from the edge, his heart pounding hard enough to make his vision go shaky.
“You okay up there?” Leif calls.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” Iver says, panting for breath, almost feeling like laughing with relief. “I made it.”
“Good. Nice job, Iver.”
“Thank you, Leif. For helping me.” He feels like he needs to say something else, as he realizes Leif just helped save his life and this will be the last time they speak. “I’ll never forget about you,” he says, feeling immediately stupid.
“I appreciate that,” Leif says simply. “I think I’ll lie down now. I feel a little hot.”
“Sure,” Iver says. “You do that. Thanks again.”
Leif doesn’t answer; he’s obviously already gone to lie down.
Iver climbs to the top of the roof. A mild breeze is blowing through the night, soothing his sweaty face, and as he looks out over the island, it’s enough to take his breath away.
There are lights in houses here and there, but most have gone dark. Grey, shadowy figures are moving around everywhere, swarming the streets and the fields and the beaches.
Thousands, Iver thinks to himself. There are thousands of them.
He forces himself to focus on the task at hand. He climbs down towards the place Agnete’s bedroom must be. When he’s four feet from the edge, he calls to her.
“Iver?” she answers almost right away, a little to the left from where he’s sitting. “You made it up there? Oh, I’m so relieved.”
“Yes, I’m fine,” Iver says. “So far, at least.”
“What about Leif?”
“He’s already spiking a fever.”
“Goodness, that’s just terrible. And Charlotte? And Chris? And Linda?”
“They’re all gone,” Iver says. “I’ll explain everything when I get in there with you.”
“How are you going to do it?”
“I don’t know,” Iver says honestly. “I think I need to just lower myself down and then … maybe you can help me get in?”
“I’ll try my best, but I really think it’s risky.”
“I know. We have to give it a shot. Stand back while I swing down, okay? Then be ready to grab me if I can’t reach the windowsill.”
Iver scootches closer to the edge, letting his feet drop out over the gutter. Below on the ground there’s a crowd of zombies similar to the one he just saw on the other side.
Iver grabs a firm hold of the gutter, then twists his body, turning over as he lets his hip glide out over the gutter. He pauses here for a moment, taking
