Page 41 of The Living and the Dead

“Damn, he’s creepy,” Killian said. “When he grabbed you like that, I almost thought he was going to punch you.”

“Me too. Maybe he was going to.”

“Have you seen him? Out with the shotgun? Like Filip was saying.”

“No, have you?”

“I thought I saw a car yesterday. But I don’t know, maybe it wasn’t him. When he brought up the shotgun, I thought about the last time we were there. I felt so fucking sorry for Mikael that time. Remember?”

Something stirred within Sander. The memories and events, the notebook page in his pocket. A thought was beginning to take shape inside him.

“Maybe it’s connected?” he said. “All of it.”

What had happened? Sander thought of glass, transparent and cold, glimpses of events on the other side. He couldn’t make up his mind. Did the memory mean nothing at all, or was it the other way around—maybe they were brushing up against the deepest of undercurrents.

30

It happened sometime in October. They were walking by the farm on their way home from school and saw Karl-Henrik and Mikael coming out of the house. They were all bundled up in outdoor gear, and each was carrying a shotgun. Karl-Henrik was first to notice someone by the gate. He brought up a hand to shade his eyes against the cold October sun, and when he recognized Sander and Killian, he waved wildly.

“Why, hello, you two!”

Sander eyed theLof the open shotgun in Karl-Henrik’s hands. “Are you going hunting?”

Karl-Henrik pointed at a grove of trees across the field. “We’ve got wild boar tracks over there. Thought we’d settle down and see if we can take out some of the bastards. I don’t want them here. Mikael’s coming with, he needs to learn.”

He turned to his son and tousled his hair. Mikael looked uncomfortable.

“Would you like to join us?” Karl-Henrik went on. “I’ve got two extra guns in the car—you can both shoot, can’t you?”

Sander and Killian exchanged glances. Soon they were sitting in a filthy Range Rover that smelled like dust and smoke, heading down one of the gravel roads that wound through the area.

As Karl-Henrik drove, he talked about the wild boar, where they’dbeen spotted, how many there were, how big they were, the risks of letting them roam. Sander and Killian were holding unfamiliar shotguns, and in front of them were the backs of Mikael and Karl-Henrik’s heads. They looked the same from behind. In some folks, that was where the heredity showed.

There was a darkness to Karl-Henrik that was hard to put your finger on, and it made Sander uneasy. He smiled quite a bit, and spoke in a soft, gentle voice; he didn’t treat them quite like adults but not like children either. Maybe that was just it—it was hard to tell how he saw you.

They parked by the grove. It seemed larger up close, the treetops swaying way up high, their trunks close together. You couldn’t see through to the other side. Karl-Henrik climbed out and fed two shells into the chamber. Under his watchful eye the others followed suit.

“The lever’s a little stiff,” Mikael said.

“You just need to press harder. Have you got a bum thumb or something, boy?”

Mikael gritted his teeth. The lever gave way and the shotgun popped open. One cartridge went in. Two. They headed for a nearby log and sat down. Karl-Henrik had borrowed Filip’s school backpack, and from it he took a Thermos of coffee and some cups.

“Relax. Are you trying to strangle that gun?”

Mikael had been squeezing the barrel so hard that his knuckles went white and his hands red. He loosened his grip.

When they heard a rustle nearby, they got ready and held their breath.

“Not a boar,” said Karl-Henrik. “Just a hare.”

Mikael exhaled. Sander turned his head. In the distance, he could see the roof of Madeleine and Felicia Grenberg’s house. “How long does it take to walk over there?”

Karl-Henrik poured himself more coffee. “Ten minutes or so. Maybe fifteen.”

“You have a lot of land.”

“Yes. But considering Madeleine shows up late every morning,you’d think she had three times as far to walk.” He shook his head. “Those two are a mess. I shouldn’t let them stay on the farm, really, but they’ve had it rough since Göran died. So I let them live over there.”