Page 216 of The Sleepwalker

On the screen of the comms unit, messages pop up announcing that no planes or helicopters are able to take off, and that one coastal road after another is being closed.

Joona tries to reach Hugo for the fifth time, but his call goes straight through to voicemail.

He needs to talk to the teenager, to get him away from the clinic. To tell him to put on his coat and just go.

Joona doesn’t want to end up in a situation in which Hugo is with Grind when the raid takes place.

It doesn’t seem likely that the doctor would hurt his patient, but they could easily end up in some sort of hostage situation if he panics.

A large spruce branch skids across the tarmac, leaving a trail of cones and needles as it careens to the other side.

The driver in front of Joona loses control of their car and hits the central barrier. The vehicle jolts back and spins around, crossing the hard shoulder and ending up half in the ditch.

As Joona passes, he sees that the driver is on their phone.

He speeds up again as he approaches a wooded area. The trunks of the trees are bending dangerously low, the last dead leaves being torn from their branches.

Joona attempts to call Hugo again, but there is still no answer.

Something thuds against the side window.

A powerful gust of wind barrels across the fields, pulling up clumps of grass. The bushes are practically flat against the ground, and Joona watches as a hunting stand topples over, the plywood roof flying through the air.

Some of the trees have broken in the middle, and others have fallen with their roots still intact, churning up dark earth and rocks.

Up ahead, two tall pines crash down over the road, breaking the guard cable.

Joona brakes hard, and the back of his car sways from side to side for a moment until the vehicle comes to a halt.

Debris clatters against the side doors.

He reverses towards the ditch, turns around and starts driving in the wrong direction.

He can take the E18 back towards Stockholm, he thinks, then try the 267 to Uppsala.

The driving snow is getting heavier and heavier.

The storm is battering the row of high-voltage transmission towers in the field beside the road, and the arm at the top of one of them buckles and breaks, swinging through the air and completely taking out the next tower.

Joona sees a car approaching, and he sounds the horn and flashes his headlights, pulling out onto the hard shoulder with two wheels and speeding past it with just inches to spare.

75

Thor and his partner Nolan are standing behind their black van in a residential area on the outskirts of Uppsala.

The rest of the tactical unit is currently getting into position, climbing over the low white fence at the edge of Lars Grind’s property.

The operatives have familiarised themselves with pictures of the suspected perpetrator – a man who, with nothing but an axe, has killed two armed officers and at least nine civilians – and every member of the unit is wearing a bulletproof vest, breathing mask and helmet.

Thor slots the curved magazine into his automatic rifle and pushes the charging handle and safety catch forward with his thumb.

He has an anxious lump he just can’t shift in his throat.

Leaves and debris blow through the air with the swirling snowflakes, and the fierce gusts of wind push branches, broken mailboxes and fallen bicycles along the street.

The flagpoles creak as they bend.

In a garden nearby, a string of Christmas lights has come loose, and is whipping around a tree.