Harbour

by John Ajvide Lindqvist

  'Is Mummy going to die?'

  'She isn't here. She's a long way away. She's fine.'

  'Why is she a long way away?'

  An elderly couple whose names Anders couldn't recall, who lived a couple of blocks up from the shop, opened their from door and looked out. 'Where's the fire?' asked the old man. Mats stopped and pointed out to sea.

  'A wave is coming. Get out of here.'

  The old man peered out to sea and his eyes opened wide. I le grabbed his wife by the hand. 'Come on, Astrid.'

  By the time the old couple had put on their clogs and got down their front steps, there was a deafening crash from the harbour, and a blast of air made Anders wobble forwards. Maja squealed, thinking he was going to fall on top of her, but he managed to regain his balance and staggered on towards the forest.

  He could hear a thundering sound like a waterfall behind him, and a few seconds later sea water was swirling over his feet. A sharp pain shot up his leg as a shard of ice hit his right foot. He gritted his teeth and limped along, picking his way between large and small pieces of ice that were floating on the water as it was sucked back towards the sea.

  Fortunately the old couple were of tough archipelago stock, and they plodded along with their clogs splashing through the water a couple of metres ahead of him, just behind Mats and Ingrid. Maja hauled herself up and looked over his shoulder.

  'Daddy, there's another one coming!'

  He looked back. The boathouses down by the harbour were gone, and the shoreline had risen by several metres, as if Domarö too had shaken itself up and risen from the sea to meet the threat. Unfortunately this was not the case. It was the wave sucking the water towards it. The next wave.

  Mats noticed that Anders was limping, and offered to carry Maja, but Anders shook his head. He had carried her this far, he would carry her all the way. The only problem was that he could hardly walk.

  'Wait, just hang on a minute!' the old man shouted to Anders, waving the others on. Anders stood with Maja in his arms as the man ran back to his house. Now he remembered the man. He used to buy herring from Anders; he was already an old man in those days, and Anders thought he had such an unusual name for an old man.

  Kristoffer,

  Anders thought. His name is Kristoffer Ek. Torgny's dad.

  Kristoffer disappeared out of sight and Anders looked anxiously at the sea. It would take a while before the next wave reached them, but when it did...

  I am the sea.

  He was still standing with his feet in water and the water linked him directly to the wall of sea water that was approaching from out in the bay. He rose against it and Spiritus burned in his stomach as lie left his consciousness and became one with the hurtling wave.

  Stop! Stop!

  He was in the wave and the wave was in him, its insane power ran through Spiritus and out into his fingers, clenching into fists around Maja's body as he tried to restrain, to brake. The insect in his stomach tensed like a muscle strained to breaking point, and this was not meant for humans.

  He knew it was pointless. Like trying to hold back a bolting horse with a fishing line. And yet he resisted until it all became too much, and something burst inside him. He felt a searing pain in his stomach. His contact with the water was broken.

  'Ouch, Daddy! You're pinching!'

  He returned to the solid world, where his arms were squeezing his daughter tightly. He relaxed; he had to concentrate to stop his legs giving way beneath him. Close by his ear, Maja asked, 'Why is Mummy a long way away?'

  'We'll ring her later, sweetheart. Afterwards.'

  The wave shimmered like a gigantic mirror being dragged across the surface of the sea, the broken pieces of ice were like cracks and marks on its shining surface. It was not within human power to stop it. Anders had turned and started to run once again when he heard the sound of an engine starting up, and the next moment Kristoffer pulled out of his drive on a bright blue platform moped.

  'Jump on!' he shouted.

  Anders clambered on to the platform with Maja in his arms, and as Kristoffer accelerated along the forest track, she whispered in his ear, 'Who's that?'

  'That's Kristoffer,' said Anders. 'He's helping us.'

  Maja nodded. 'He looks nice. A bit like Simon.'

  Anders hadn't given Simon and Anna-Greta a thought since this all started, he had just registered the fact that they were out of the way and therefore safe. Either at sea or in Kapellskar.

  Domarö. It only wants to get at Domarö.

  They caught up with the others. Kristoffer braked and Astrid perched gratefully on the edge of the platform. Kristoffer waved to Mats and Ingrid, but Mats shook his head and kept on running with his wife. Presumably the moped would lose so much speed with them on board that it was quicker to keep running.

  'To the rock!' shouted Anders. 'The erratic boulder. That's the highest point.'

  Kristoffer nodded, and they shot off along the track. As they passed Mats and Ingrid, Anders shouted the same thing to them. After a hundred metres Kristoffer turned off and they bounced along over roots and stones. But they were moving upwards, climbing all the time.

  It was impossible to ride along the last bit, and despite the fact that his feet were hurting so much it brought tears to his eyes, Anders clung to Maja and she clung to him as they got down from the platform and began to climb.

  They reached the boulder just in time to see the wave come crashing in over Domarö. Like a dark blue fifteen-metre wall with a crown of ice shards, it came down over the community. Anders sank down at the edge of the rock and watched as what the first wave had left of the Shack was swallowed up by the mass of water.

  The chunks of ice flew off the crest of the wave and destroyed the roofs of Anna-Greta and Simon's houses just seconds before the alarm bell tower collapsed under the pressure and the wall of water smashed the whole thing to driftwood dancing in the foam, and then were was nothing left. The six refugees were standing on a tiny island a dozen or so metres above a rushing, roaring sea, with wreckage swirling around them.

  Anders looked up. Gåvasten lighthouse could no longer be seen. The little island was still out there, but the lighthouse itself had disappeared, swept away by the wave. A shudder ran from the sea through the earth, continued into their bodies through the rock, and the island that had appeared next to Gåvasten began to sink.

  The water beneath their feet ebbed away. Above his head, Anders heard Mats say, 'There were people there...'

  Anders leaned back and saw that Mats was looking through his telescope. He lowered it and shook his head as he gestured out towards the sinking island. 'There were people out there. On the island. Lots of people. They're gone now.'

  Anders hugged Maja and buried his nose in the hollow at the back of her neck. The water sank down, exposing a village that was no longer there. Beneath them lay nothing but a muddy mess of fallen trees and the wreckage of houses and outbuildings. Here and there lay large or small pieces of smashed boats. The only thing that was left was the lump of concrete that formed the steamboat jetty.

  It's dangerous. Not only for you. For all those who live here.

  This was what Anna-Greta had meant, what she had wanted to prevent. Anders pushed his nose harder into Maja's neck, rubbing his cheek over her back.

  'Ouch Daddy, you're all prickly. Stop it.'

  Anders smiled and turned her to face him, stroking her cheek gently with one finger. Maja clamped her lips together in a way that meant she was thinking.

  'Daddy?'

  'Yes.'

  'I dreamed I was calling to you. A lot. Was I?'

  'Yes, you were.'

  Maja nodded grimly, as if this confirmed something she had suspected for a long time.

  'What did you do then?'

  Anders looked into her serious, worried eyes. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead.

  'I came to find you. Of course.'

  In the churchyard in Nåten there is an anchor. An
enormous anchor made of cast iron, with a memorial plaque:

  IN MEMORY OF THOSE LOST AT SEA

  After the incomprehensible storm, the anchor was no longer there. From the spot where the anchor had been, a fresh trench ran down to the shore. As if the anchor had been dragged along by its chain, dragged through the earth like a plough, leaving the furrow behind it before it disappeared into the sea.

  Whatever had been fastened to the anchor had torn itself free. Or been set free.