Sussi throws herself down next to Jonas, who’s crouching over Otto, trying to stop the bleeding, but the blood is pumping way too fast, making its way out between his fingers, quickly forming a pool on the floorboards. Otto is staring up at the ceiling, grunting and rattling, oblivious to Sussi repeating his name over and over.
Silas is still huddled on the floor next to him, holding his chest while moaning.
The old guy—the father—is the only one who hasn’t moved. He’s sitting in his wheelchair, watching everything with a calmness which to Dennis is both surprising and disturbing.
NINE
They’re still flying. It’s been half an hour since they kicked Eli off the helicopter.
William is surprised at how well Dan handles it. Henrik, too, for that matter; knowing you’ll be dead within an hour can’t be easy.
Yet both of them are sitting calmly next to each other. Henrik has his arm around Dan’s shoulders, and Dan is leaning against his father, crying softly.
William doesn’t want to witness any of it. He’s sick of watching good people die. But at the same time, he feels like he owes it to Dan to be there. Soon, Dan won’t have his father anymore, and even though William can never replace a dad, he’s determined to do his best in helping Dan.
Henrik’s face is beginning to turn a little red, but otherwise, he still looks relatively okay. His free hand—the one not holding Dan—is resting gently on his navel area, holding the bandage that Josefine put on. It’s already soaked through with fresh blood.
They came together after the incident, huddled at the front end of the helicopter, talking for the first time like a real group; William didn’t need to act as spokesperson, didn’t need to ask anybody to gather round, it just happened. And everybody spoke their minds, one at a time.
Sebastian told them they were too far out over open water to turn back now. It would be safer to keep flying.
Josefine said she would take care of Henrik’s and Nasira’s wounds, clean them up and bandage them.
Nasira told them that if she began to feel seriously ill, she would jump out.
Henrik told them the same thing.
They all agreed to keep flying.
So that’s what they did.
And now they can do nothing but wait.
There are still hours till they reach the place in Norway they’re headed for, the place where Sebastian knows they can get more fuel, and the day is still just dawning outside. It’ll be a long day.
Which one of them will go first? William wonders. Nasira or Henrik?
Looking at Nasira, she looks exactly the same, except for the tiny bandages covering her arms, which are wrapped around Ali, who’s sleeping against her chest. Her eyes are open, glancing up at something only she can see, and that look of deep peace has once again settled on her face.
William finds himself studying her, and he’s surprised he hasn’t noticed until now just how beautiful she is; she looks like that princess from Aladdin.
The thought of the virus raging through her, slowly killing her, and the image of what will become of her when it finally finishes her, makes William’s stomach curl up. How can something this beautiful turn into something so horrible? William doesn’t consider himself a romantic person, but he can’t help but think of a lovely flower rotting and becoming compost.
Will they really do it?
The thought pops into his head unbidden. He considers for a moment what they’ll do if either Henrik or Nasira has a change of heart and refuses to jump off the helicopter once their time runs out.
And he feels ashamed of himself. He’s certain it won’t come to that. To his astonishment, he realizes he trusts them both. These two people he’s only known for days.
“It’s not fair,” he hears Dan whisper between the sobs. “It’s not fair, Dad. First Jennie. Then Mom. And now you. It’s just not fair.”
“I know,” Henrik says, his eyes closed, rocking Dan gently back and forth. “I know it isn’t fair.”
“I wish we’d never gone into that house. I wish someone else had stumbled upon that old lady. If we’d just stayed home that day, Jennie would still be alive, and so would Mom.”
“I know,” Henrik just repeats softly.
“It’s all my fault.”
William feels his throat close up as Dan begins crying deeper.
“Oh, no, no,” Henrik says, still rocking him, his eyes still closed. “None of it is your fault, Dan. You don’t decide who lives and who dies. None of us do.”
“I can’t … I can’t go on without you, Dad …”
“Sure you can. You’re the strongest person in the world.”
William nods in agreement, even though none of them notice. The way Dan has dealt with losing both his sister and his mom within a few days from each other, and still he’s kept on fighting, trying to help people, trying to survive—William’s not sure he could have done the same.
It’s funny how that first impression Dan gives off—the shy, timid teenager with those big, blue, serious eyes—it tells you nothing of the strength of his character.
Maybe Dan hasn’t always been like this, maybe the events over the past week have shaped him in record time. But still, it must have always been there, on the inside. Isn’t there some saying about hard times showing you who you really are?
TEN
It takes Otto less than a minute to die. But to Dennis, that minute feels more like an hour.
Otto doesn’t close his eyes when it happens, but simply stops groaning.
Jonas—whose hands are covered in blood all the way to the elbows—leans back with a trembling sigh, announcing: “He’s dead …”
“No!” Sussi cries, leaning over Otto. “No, no, no!”
Silas has managed to sit up, but he’s still clutching his side, obviously in pain.
Sussi jumps to her feet and glares at Mom, who has drawn back farther, holding out both the doll and the bloody dagger. Sussi’s face is a mask of rage and tears as she spits: “You killed him!”
“He tried to kill me,” Mom says, but Sussi doesn’t hear her.
“You killed him!” she screams and lunges at Mom.
Mom doesn’t move, but readies herself to use the dagger once more.
If Jonas hadn’t jumped up and caught Sussi in that instant, Mom would likely have killed her as well. But Jonas grabs her around the waist and drags her back.
“Get her outside,” the father tells Jonas, barely looking at him. His eyes are resting on Mom, his expression betraying no emotions. “And you,” he says, addressing Silas, still without taking his eyes from Mom. “You pick yourself up and go help your brother.”
Silas gets to his feet, slowly and methodically, groaning. “Fuck, I think I broke a couple of ribs …”
The sound of the crying woman grows more distant. Dennis can hear Jonas take her outside and slam the front door behind him.
Silas looks down at Otto. The blood has stopped gushing from the wound and, judging from the color of Otto’s face, there’s no more blood left inside him.
“You fucking killed him,” Silas whispers.
“If anybody killed Otto, it was Otto,” the father says coolly. “That was a stupid thing he attempted.”
Silas rounds on him, flinging out his arms. “So, you’re just gonna let her get away with it?”
“Go help your brother.”
“Otto was your fucking brother!”
“You don’t talk to me like that.” The father barely raises his voice, yet Dennis immediately feels the threat of violence behind the words. “Now, go help your brother.”
“What about Otto?” Silas says, pointing at the corpse. “Do we just leave him like that?”
“What use is he to us now? He’s dead.”
Silas bites down hard, apparently choking back words. Instead of saying anything to his father, though, he turns around and stares at Mom, and then, to Dennis’s surprise, he notices tears forming in Silas’s eyes. “He was my uncle.
I grew up knowing him. And you killed him like a fucking pig.”
“Silas,” the father says, his tone lower now. Warningly.
Silas ignores him, taking a step towards Mom. Mom raises the dagger again.
“You think you can just keep getting away with killing folks, but you’re wrong, lady. This time, you fucked with the wrong people.”
“Silas!”
Silas stares at Mom a moment longer, then turns around and marches out of the living room.
The father’s eyes follow him, then drift back to Mom.
Dennis expects him to say something, but he doesn’t. They just stare at each other for the longest time. Instead, it’s Mom who breaks the silence.
“Like I said. You and the woman take the van. Your sons will follow you in their own car.”
“I got that,” the father says. He glances down briefly at Otto. “Will you bury my brother? He wasn’t the brightest, but he deserves that much at least.”
Mom seems to consider for a moment. Then she nods once.
“Thank you,” the father says, breaking into another coughing fit.
Jonas reappears in the opening to the kitchen. He looks from Mom to his father. “We’re ready, Dad.”
“All right. We’ll be going, then.”
He turns the wheelchair around, then remembers something.
“Oh, by the way …” He nods towards the doll in Mom’s hand. “That thing. What are you going to do with that?”
“I’ll destroy it,” Mom says. “As soon as you’re out of here.”
“And that won’t hurt Silas?”
“I’ll remove the charm first.”
“Good.” The father thinks for a moment, then adds: “You know, he’s a good boy. I realize he doesn’t always act like it, but he’s my son and I love him with all my heart. If anything were to happen to him …” The words hang in the air for a moment.
“Are you threatening me?” Mom asks, a hint of cold in her voice.
The old man shrugs. “I’m only saying, self-defense is one thing. Killing someone who isn’t trying to kill you, that’s something else.”
Mom doesn’t answer.
“Right then,” the father says. “We’ll get out of your hair.”
He rolls along, and Jonas follows him through the kitchen.
Dennis looks to Mom, and she gestures for him to stay put as she goes to the kitchen. She looks out the window, and Dennis can hear the sound of the cars starting.
“They’re leaving,” Mom says, and Dennis takes it to mean he can join her.
They both watch from the kitchen window as the cars drive out from the courtyard. First the van, then Silas and Jonas in the truck.
Silas is driving. Just before they leave, he turns the car around so that he can see the windows.
He stares at Mom, showing his teeth in what Dennis first takes to be a smile, but then he realizes it’s a hateful sneer, as Silas slides his finger across his throat very slowly.
Then he speeds up, making the gravel go flying, and the truck roars out of the courtyard.
Dennis glances up at Mom. “What did that mean, Mom? That thing he did with his finger?”
Dennis isn’t the smartest kid, he knows that, but he isn’t so thick that he didn’t understand the meaning of Silas’s gesture. He just wants to know if Mom understands too.
“It was nothing,” Mom says, but her eyes are suddenly distant. “Go upstairs for a minute, Dennis.”
“Why?”
“Just do it, please.”
Dennis can’t help but notice the strange tone in Mom’s voice. When she asks him to do something, she usually never says “please.” And the way she’s just staring out the window … something about it gives Dennis a bad feeling.
Yet he senses Mom is in no mood for further questions, so he hurries out of the kitchen and runs up the stairs. He stops at the top of the steps, unsure where to go. Then he heads into the room from which he can see the driveway and the road beyond.
Looking out and squinting his eyes, he can still make out the two cars driving in the distance, the midday sun gleaming in the metal.
He watches them grow even smaller, and he feels relieved at the thought of Silas not being here anymore. But surprisingly, he feels a little sad, too.
It’s very strange, but even though Silas was mean to him and did something bad to Mom last night, there was also something else about him. Like the way he taught Dennis to shoot the rifle. Despite how uncomfortable Dennis had been, afterwards, he felt something he never really felt before. It was pride. Silas had even praised him.
“That wasn’t half bad for a first try.”
Dennis remembers the words vividly. Not the greatest compliment in the world, but still more than even Mom had ever given him.
And why had Silas wanted to teach him how to shoot in the first place? Because he wanted to use him as a bodyguard? Not likely. He did it, Dennis felt sure, just as much to help Dennis.
“Grow a pair and do it soon,” Silas had told him. “Just friendly advice.”
Dennis hardly ever got any advice from anybody, mostly just looks of disgust or mean comments which he had learned a long time ago to ignore. Dennis had no friends, and that was okay.
But for a moment yesterday, he had felt like Silas was his friend. No, more than that. He had felt like he was his big brother. Someone besides Mom who would look after him if it became necessary.
Maybe Dennis is reading too much into it, but that was how it felt. And as Dennis is standing there, feeling an ounce of unlikely gratitude towards the guy who held them hostage, the truck with Silas and Jonas in it suddenly turns sharply to the side, crashes into the ditch and goes flying into the air, completing three or four somersaults before finally coming to rest several yards from the road.
Dennis gasps.
He stares at the car, which has landed upside-down. It’s too far away for him to see any details, but it doesn’t look good.
The other car, the one with Sussi and the father, stops, backs up and stops again. A person—must be Sussi—comes out and runs to the crashed car.
Dennis turns away from the window and runs downstairs.
“Mom! Mom!” he shouts, running to the kitchen, but Mom isn’t there.
“What is it?” Her voice comes from the living room.
Dennis runs back in there and sees her sitting on the couch, her hands resting on her knees, almost like she’s about to begin one of her prayers.
“The car!” he croaks. “Silas and Jonas … they … they crashed, Mom!”
Mom just looks at him, no discernable surprise on her face. “Oh.”
“Just up the road,” Dennis goes on, pointing. “Not even, like, two miles from here.”
“That’s unfortunate,” Mom says, her voice cool as ever. “They should be more careful.”
“But … shouldn’t we … help them? Maybe they’re hurt!”
Mom’s eyes grow narrow. “Why on earth would you help them?”
“Well, because … I don’t know … maybe they’re hurt!” he repeats, as he can’t find any other good reason.
“They were bad people, Dennis,” she tells him, shaking her head. “Whatever happens to them, they deserve it.”
“But, Mom—”
“And even if we wanted to help them, we couldn’t leave this house; it’s too dangerous.”
“But—”
“No more ‘buts,’ Dennis.” Her tone is final, her eyes digging into his. “They’re gone now. It’s over.”
Dennis can only blink for several seconds. His heart is pounding away. He senses something Mom isn’t telling him, something he should be able to figure out.
But failing to do so, he just keeps standing there, blinking.
“Go and get some rest, Dennis,” Mom tells him, her voice very soft now. “We both need it.”
Dennis hesitates for a moment. He wants to ask something, but is unsure what. So, finally, he turns and walks back over to the stairs. Just befo
re he goes upstairs, though, he glances back at Mom. She’s sitting in the exact same way, her eyes closed now, her lips moving soundlessly.
And then he sees it.
The doll.
It’s lying on the couch next to Mom.
Its head is turned all the way around.
ELEVEN
Dan is resting his head against his father, feeling the warmth coming off his body.
He knows it’s the fever.
It’s all still unreal.
He gets it—intellectually at least.
His father is infected.
His father will be gone in a few minutes.
Gone forever.
Dead.
Irrevocably.
It’s fairly simple, really. As simple as anything. You’re either there or you’re not. It shouldn’t be hard to understand.
And yet it hasn’t dawned on Dan. He hasn’t understood any of it.
A part of him still hasn’t caught up with the fact that Mom is gone. Or Jennie, even though he watched her die.
Emotionally, they still feel alive to him. They’re still very much present in his memory. He can see their faces clearly, hear their voices. How can they no longer be in the world when they’re so vividly there right inside his mind?
Apparently, that part of him is a very slow learner. It’ll likely take years before it really catches on. Maybe it never will. Maybe that part of him will keep thinking that Mom and Jennie are alive somewhere.
And now, to make everything all the more unreal, his father will be going away too. In a short time, he’ll only exist within Dan’s memories too.
What kind of world does this to anybody? What kind of awful crimes has Dan committed against anybody to make fate feel like he deserves this?
And what about Mom and Jennie? What did they do to deserve to die? What could possibly be the reason for the world to decide they no longer belonged here? How could it discard them so easily?
None of it is real.
None of it makes sense.
None of it is fair.
He feels his father move slightly.
“Dan? You awake?”
No, Dan thinks.
“Yes,” Dan says.
Dead Meat Box Set, Vol. 2 | Days 4-6 Page 47
