The Shapeshifters (57 page)

‘We'll have to go up and look and then come down again,' Susso said, pointing. Torbjörn nodded and swung the snowmobile round.

They went so slowly that the exhaust fumes caught up with them. Torbjörn stood looking for tracks, while Susso read the GPS screen. Giertsbäcken and Giertsjaure. Gångstig. Jippmotje. Further on there should be a church. She thought that was odd because they seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. The squirrel clawed around on her shoulder and then hopped down onto the road. It sat still for a moment or two and then darted forwards, only to stop again. Then it carried on a few metres before running up the wall of snow and vanishing in among the trees.

‘He's off,' said Torbjörn.

Susso nodded.

Further on there was a sign. It was covered in snow but the blue paint was visible. That meant they were approaching a village.

‘There are a few houses here,' Susso said, studying the GPS map. ‘And a church.'

‘Shall we go up there then,' Torbjörn yelled over his shoulder, ‘and find out if anyone's seen anything?'

‘Seen anything?' she said. ‘That could very easily be the place he's run off to.'

Torbjörn sat down in his seat. Then he turned the handlebars and began carefully swinging the snowmobile round.

‘What shall we do then?'

There was no need for Susso to answer. The squirrel had run out into the road a few hundred metres away, and when they drove in its direction it scrambled up a ridge of snow and raced backwards and forwards. Susso climbed off, and a few metres in among the trees she found deep holes in the snow.

Pulling together they managed to get the old machine to the side of the road and then waded into the forest on foot. Branches tore at their jackets, and here and there sharp sticks protruded from the snow, trying to stab them. They caused slabs of snow to slip from the heavily laden spruce trees and it soon became such an effort to move that neither of them had the energy to speak. They stopped frequently. The squirrel was ahead of them the whole time. They had been trudging for about half an hour when Torbjörn's mobile started ringing. It was Gudrun, wanting to know how it was going and where they were. Susso told her they were close to a hill called Varåive, and Torbjörn repeated the name several times.

‘It's almost impossible to get lost with one of these,' Susso said, holding up the GPS. Then she added, as an afterthought: ‘As long as the battery's charged, of course.'

‘How much is left?'

‘More than half.'

Torbjörn glanced at his mobile.

‘Mine's almost run out. I should have charged it before we left.'

They were both worn out and neither of them felt like struggling on straight away so they stood where they were, surrounded by towering spruce trees wrapped in utter silence. Susso's legs
were very cold. She looked up at the treetops and the sky, where the lower layer of clouds was constantly moving. It was rapidly getting darker and she thought it had felt better when they were sitting on the snowmobile. Now the giant could emerge from anywhere and they would have no chance to get away.

The squirrel seemed eager. It had hopped down into the snow and was leaping from one of the bear's deep footprints to another as if to show them which way to go.

Susso scratched herself with the GPS, the solid antenna against her cheek.

‘Okay, we get it,' she said. ‘But you'll have to wait for us. We can't run in the tracks like you can.'

But the squirrel did not seem to realise that they understood. Torbjörn inserted some snus, clicked the tin closed and looked at the little animal in amusement. It was embroidering the snow with its impatient circling.

They trudged on with the squirrel in front, at times so far ahead it was out of sight. Sometimes it ran into the trees, seldom visible, but branches dipped and snow came crashing down. They heard it rustling inside a fir tree, and as they strode past it chattered. It seemed to be excited. Susso waited for it to come up to her, but when there was no sign of it she walked under the tree and looked up among the branches. She could see the squirrel sitting upright with its claws embedded in the trunk. Then she almost lost her balance.

High up in the shadowy gloom hovered a pale, gaunt face.

‘Torbjörn,' she said softly.

‘What is it?'

‘Come and see.'

The snow crunched as he bent over to get under the tree.

He jerked back when he saw it, but he said nothing.

‘Isn't that him?' Susso said.

Torbjörn nodded, the hard bulge of snus disfiguring his lip.

It was a man's head, wedged in the fork of two branches. The blood on his shredded neck was almost black. His mouth was gaping open and his teeth and tongue were grey. One of his eyes was staring, the other was out of sight behind the branch. But it was still possible to recognise him. It was the man with the axe. The man Torbjörn had wrestled to the ground and punched on the jaw in Holmajärvi.

‘Oh shit. What's he doing here?' Torbjörn said.

It was not intended as a question.

Susso removed the backpack. She opened the top section, pulled out the plastic bag and unfolded it. She took out the revolver, tugged off her glove with her teeth, released the cylinder and checked that the cartridges were in the right place.

‘Fuck it, we've got to call the cops now,' Torbjörn said, striding up to her. He was frowning and wiping the snot from under his nose. His voice was tense and she thought he looked like his father. It was a resemblance she had never noticed before.

Susso pushed in the cylinder with a click and put her glove back on.

‘All we have to do is give them the GPS coordinates,' he went on. ‘They'll be here immediately. It's murder! He's been murdered!'

‘What, you think a human has done this?' she said, nodding towards the tree. ‘Ripped off his head and climbed up into a tree with it?'

Torbjörn stared intently at her, and even the squirrel had come out onto a swaying branch.

‘We've got to phone.'

‘Then we'll never get them. And you know it.'

She started walking. The squirrel was already ten metres ahead of her.

They made their way down a slope and crossed a small lake. The bear's tracks had divided the frozen surface in two. Susso slipped a few times and dropped the revolver in the snow. She brushed some of it off with her glove, blowing the rest away. She asked Torbjörn if he thought the mechanism had frozen, but he did not answer. His eyes were fixed on the GPS, which is why he almost collided with Susso when she stopped.

‘Can you smell it?'

‘What?' he said, pulling his hat straight.

‘I can smell smoke.'

He sniffed and then nodded.

‘Yes. And that's some fire.'

They raised their eyes and soon saw the smoke drifting over the treetops in thick black billowing clouds. They walked faster, almost running. They were on a hill and down below, between the trees, they saw the fire.

The whole place was going up in flames.

Susso noticed the squirrel had huddled down and its whiskers were trembling. Its head was jerking up and down repeatedly and it was hard to tell whether it was afraid or excited. Torbjörn had phoned Gudrun to tell her where they were, and for a moment they stood there staring at the fire filling the sky with driving clouds that looked as if they were illuminated from within.

They walked closer and soon a facade of fibre cement slabs appeared between the trees. It was covered in black scorch marks.
There was the sound of explosions and crackling, tongues of fire shot up and Susso heard a window shatter into pieces. Flakes of soot floated down, dotting the snowdrifts with black.

Then suddenly the squirrel, which had been riding on Susso's shoulder, leapt down. Susso did not want to lose sight of it, so she ran after the bushy tail as it wove through the trees. It was not easy to see it in the strange atmosphere created by the powerful, glowing flames unfurling in the smoky night-time darkness. Wading through the snow she broke through the trees, hearing Torbjörn behind her. He was yelling at her to stop.

The squirrel sat in the snow, and there was a fox too, watching her. Its ears were erect, its breast white. Her first thought was to scare it away in case it went for the squirrel. But then she realised it was not a normal fox. When she came closer it trotted off in a semicircle, and the squirrel moved in the opposite direction.

And then she heard it.

A sound like someone banging. Under the ground.

Confused, she looked at the snowdrift.

It was moving.

There was someone underneath.

Or something.

She took a step back and looked at Torbjörn, who had caught up with her. He had also heard the sound. His mouth was hidden below his collar and he gave her a dark look as he slowly shook his head.

Susso clutched the revolver indecisively.

He was right. It could be anything down there.

But surely the squirrel would not risk putting her in danger?

She cleared away the snow with her boot until a pair of iron handles appeared, wrapped with a glinting silver chain. A metal
hatch cover. Right in the middle of the forest.

She took a step forwards and stamped on it.

She heard screaming from below. It was impossible to make out the words but there was no doubt that there were people down there screaming for their lives. Susso tugged at the handles and shouted that she would help them. Then she ripped off her glove and put the revolver to the chain, but the sudden fear of the bullet ricocheting off the metal made her turn away as she squeezed the trigger. She was unclear whether she had missed or whether the chain was too strong, but the shot had no effect apart from making the fox run off and the squirrel scurry up the nearest tree. Now she had only one cartridge left, and because she did not want to waste it she began kicking the padlock as hard as she could.

‘We've got to find something to break it with!' Torbjörn said.

‘Run and find it then!'

She yelled at him to hurry but instead he stood rooted to the spot. She realised he was afraid.

‘Ring Mum!' she called over her shoulder as she raced towards the house. ‘Tell her where we are and that it's burning like hell! And there are people here!'

She was racing towards the blinding heat of the fire, with the squirrel running in front of her. She had dropped her glove, so she drew the hand holding the revolver back inside her jacket sleeve. She had very little energy left and soon slowed down to walking pace. That was probably sensible because she did not have a clue what to expect. Was the bear here?

The trees thinned out.

Apart from the building they had seen from the forest there was a two-storey house that was in flames and a large barn spewing
out smoke through its doors. In the yard stood an all-terrain vehicle, but there was no sign of any people. The squirrel climbed up onto her shoulder. The fire roared and crackled around them and the smoke surged in dense clouds. Susso blinked. A stinging feeling penetrated deep behind her eyes. She persevered onwards and then the squirrel jumped down.

‘Come on,' she said.

But it refused. It sat in the snow, panting.

Inside the dog compound lay a few grey furry bodies. They were still. Susso saw the white underside of a curled tail and stayed where she was, her hands resting on her knees. Had they died from the heat? Or the smoke? She squeezed her eyes shut and spat, then carried on towards the barn, bent double in the heat.

 

 

The smoke had intensified in the tunnel and now their eyes were stinging so badly they could hardly keep them open. They coughed violently and helplessly, and Seved had to keep his mouth open. All he could do was try to bury his face in the crook of his sleeve, which had become soaking wet with his saliva. He could not understand why the fire had spread so fast in the hide; after all, it was mostly made of concrete. Had Lennart and Börje prepared the room in some way?

Amina had been banging constantly on the hatch, and when they realised there was someone on the other side Seved rose up and joined in. He banged as hard as he could with his fist and yelled and shoved and tugged at the handle.

He thought it had to be Börje. That he had kept himself hidden until Lennart and Jola had set off and now he had come to let them out.

But it was a woman shouting hoarsely through the gap into the smoke-filled darkness, and Seved, confused, thought it must be Kicki Hedman from Storsjö, their nearest neighbour, or someone from over Bergnäs way. Naturally, the flames would be seen from a distance.

They did not have much time left, he knew that. The fumes would poison them and they would probably not even be aware of it. Their lungs would burn. It would not take many breaths.

‘Hurry!' he and Amina screamed together.

Then Seved shouted in a cracked voice:

‘I've got the key!'

He leaned his shoulder heavily against one half of the hatch, while Amina wedged her fingertips under the metal rim and pulled the other half inwards as Seved tried to push the key out through the gap. It did not work. The gap was too narrow. If only he had a piece of wire!

‘The mouse!' he yelled. ‘Where's the mouseshifter?'

They searched about clumsily in the light from the head torch and called the little being. Amina found it and Seved felt her cold hands pressed to his as she gave him the squirming little body.

‘Here,' he said, holding the key towards the little mouseshifter. ‘Take this key. You can get out. And then you can give it to the woman outside.'

The key was big for the shifter. It held it like a shining guitar and it was impossible to tell if it had understood the instructions. Its mouth hung open. Seved shouted that they were going to try and get the key out. Then he thrust himself towards the hatch and pressed his fingers into the gap to widen it.