Dogfight

by Craig Simpson

  Gradually my breathing slowed and deepened. The rhythm of the boat wanted to draw a veil of sleep over me, and I felt my eyelids grow heavy, as if someone had placed coins on them. I struggled to stay awake.

  Without warning our boat thumped into something solid. Loki yelled so loudly, I flung the skins to one side and stared up at him wide-eyed. ‘What the—?’

  He’d let go of the oars and looked like he’d seen a ghost. ‘For God’s sake, what’s the matter now?’ I shouted. ‘And grab those oars before we lose them.’

  He jerked a gloved finger over his left shoulder. I tried looking beyond him but a piercing blade of sunlight glinted over a low ridge at the far end of the fjord, momentarily blinding me. Reflected by the snowy mountains, the sliver of dawn created a pale, milky light. We were close to the far shore, just a few hundred yards from Heimar’s jetty. And there it was, floating by the bow. A body.

  Chapter Twelve

  Up in Flames

  I PUSHED PAST Loki and clambered over the S-phone to get to the bow. ‘Give me a hand,’ I said, reaching down towards the body.

  ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘Having a look,’ I said.

  He scrunched up his face in disgust. ‘That’s sick.’

  ‘No it isn’t. It may be important,’ I replied. ‘Quickly, hand me an oar.’

  The body floated face down and was partially submerged. Using the oar, I dragged it within reach, leaned out and grabbed it. I needed both hands to turn it over.

  ‘Hey, isn’t that old Idur Svalbad?’ said Loki. He appeared next to me. ‘Yeah, it’s him all right,’ he added. ‘I’d recognize that face anywhere.’

  Idur looked like he’d been in the water for a while, strangely bloated and waterlogged. His face was a sickly grey and horribly wrinkled. Had it not been for the mass of wiry hair about his chin and the deep curved scar on his furrowed forehead, I’d not have recognized him.

  ‘Do you think he fell overboard? From his boat, I mean?’ I asked. Loki grasped my anorak tightly to steady himself. As each wave of water slapped and slopped into the side of the boat, we lurched wildly. I kept on thinking we might be tossed overboard and end up having to swim with Idur. Not that we’d last long. Although the water never froze over, it was still cold enough to suck the life out of you within minutes.

  Loki shielded his eyes from the blinding dawn and looked around. ‘No sign of his boat,’ he declared. ‘Still, if he was out on deck adjusting his nets and was stupid enough to fall overboard, then his boat would motor on in a straight line. It could be far away by now. Or, with the tide turning, he may simply have drifted. Anyway, with the restrictions in force, he shouldn’t have been out in his boat.’

  Loki was right. In fact, I doubted Idur’s demise had been an accident. Alarm bells were ringing inside my head. I thought back to what I’d said to Father Amundsen – mentioning Idur by name – and wondered if I was to blame for it all. A feeling of guilt crept into my stomach.

  ‘What should we do?’ Loki asked.

  ‘Nothing much we can do,’ I replied, trying to sound decisive. ‘We’ll just have to drag him ashore. Either that or we let him drift on the tide. Fact is, Idur’s fish food, I’m afraid.’

  ‘OK. We’ll take him ashore. Heimar will know what’s best. Plus, with his body out of the water we might be able to tell what happened to him,’ said Loki. ‘Here, we’ll tie the rope to him. Has he got family?’

  ‘Not that I know of.’

  Loki sighed heavily. ‘Guess he won’t be missed then.’

  ‘I think Heimar and Freya will miss him,’ I said.

  I used an oar to try to keep the body within reach while Loki sorted out the rope. But the tide was strong and kept pulling Idur away. Leaning too far out of the boat a sudden wave snatched the oar from my hand.

  ‘You idiot!’ Loki yelled. He seized the other oar and frantically paddled in a desperate bid to retrieve it. By the time we managed to reach it, Idur had drifted some distance. Breathless, Loki swore. ‘Damn it!’ In silence, we watched the body slip away, bobbing, rolling, drifting. Admitting defeat, we began rowing towards the shore.

  In the sheltered waters of the inlet, Heimar’s boat, Gjall, rocked gently, clonking against the jetty. It was a welcome sight.

  ‘I can see wood smoke,’ said Loki, pointing. ‘A nice warm fire, just what I need.’

  Sure enough, beyond the dense thicket of trees and bushes laden with snow and icicles, coiled wisps of brown smoke drifted up and then hurried sideways when caught by the wind. It signalled a welcome respite from the cold. Loki gave the oars a couple of extra-hard pulls and, as we reached the jetty, I leaped onto the wooden walkway and tied us up.

  ‘Here, hand me the S-phone,’ I said, beckoning with an outstretched hand. Loki carefully drew the oars into the boat and then threw back the oilskins to reveal the device. He grabbed the straps and lifted it up to me. ‘Don’t forget the belt,’ I added, pointing into the bottom of the boat.

  The canvas waist belt contained seven pockets, five housing small batteries for the radio, one the headphones and microphone, and the last the coiled-up aerial. Loki swung the belt over his shoulder and clambered up. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘I could do with a hot drink to warm my bones. Maybe Heimar’s still got some cocoa left. You can carry the radio, Finn. And that bag of pills.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I replied sarcastically. The main unit was bulky, about the size of a rucksack. It had webbing straps attached to it, the idea being that the device was worn against your chest, its aerial sticking out and up in front of you. That way, you could point it towards an aircraft and follow it as it circled or came in to land. That was the directional bit – pretty clever, I thought. I hauled the straps over my shoulders and turned. A snowball struck me in the middle of my face.

  ‘Ouch! This no time for games, Loki.’

  Bending down, he scooped up another handful of snow, pressed it into ball and took aim.

  ‘I’m warning you.’

  I ducked just in time.

  ‘You’re for it now. Just wait until I get rid of this radio.’

  ‘Promises, promises.’ Loki peered out across the fjord and his mood suddenly darkened. ‘Do you think that German patrol boat had anything to do with Idur, Finn?’

  ‘Maybe. I don’t believe in coincidences.’

  ‘Me neither. What do you think happened?’

  ‘I dread to think,’ I replied, brushing snow from my face and coat. Memories of my conversation with Father Amundsen flashed through my mind. ‘We’ll have to tell Heimar and Freya immediately.’

  ‘Come on then. Let’s see who’s at home.’ Loki spun round and scuffed and kicked his way through the snow towards the path leading into trees weighed down by fresh dollops of snow. ‘Race you, Finn.’ He sped off.

  As I was carrying the bulky S-phone, there was no way I could win, so I decided not to take up his challenge. He soon disappeared from view.

  As I began zigzagging up the path between the trees, I heard Loki yell. Or was it a scream? Then I saw him running back towards me, crashing wildly through the overhanging branches, his arms waving frantically as he created his own new snowstorm. The look on his face struck panic into me. He tripped and fell heavily, almost disappearing from sight in a white blur. He scrambled towards me on all fours like a wounded fox. I quickly put down the S-phone and rushed forward.

  ‘What’s the matter? What’s wrong?’ I asked repeatedly.

  Between gulps and gasps for air he breathlessly blurted out words I didn’t understand properly – I thought he said something about blood. ‘Wait here. I’m going to take a look.’

  ‘No, Finn. Don’t.’ In a flash, he stuck out a hand and grasped my arm tightly. So tightly, in fact, I let out a cry of pain. I shook myself free.

  ‘The smoke,’ he said. ‘It’s Heimar’s house. There’s nothing left, Finn. Nothing left at all. And …’ His eyes bulged in horror.

  I’d heard enough. I had to see for my
self. I raced up the path, my heart pounding in my chest. Expecting the worst, I told myself to be strong. For courage I drew my hunting knife from my belt and gripped it tightly. I didn’t know what use it would be, or if I’d need to use it.

  The first thing that struck me as I approached Heimar’s house was the strong smell of burned wood, the air tinged with the sharp fragrance of pine resin. The odour grew stronger with every step. Arriving at the clearing where the farmhouse had stood for over a hundred years, I saw the smouldering remains. All that was left was the stone foundations, brick fireplace and tall chimneybreast, and a pile of charred wood, much of it still smoking. I stopped and stared. A terrible accident? Had Heimar drunk too much whisky and fallen asleep with his pipe still burning? Had a glowing log rolled off the fire while he and Freya slept? Had lightning struck? No. The truth had to be far more terrible. It just had to be. First Idur and now this! The question, though, was what had happened to Heimar and Freya.

  Some timbers cracked, spat, split and fell like a collapsing house of cards, startling me. Glowing embers shot into the air and then floated down slowly as if they had invisible parachutes. I crouched down and surveyed the scene.

  I turned and looked towards the two small outbuildings. I knew that in one Heimar kept all his fishing gear, the other being a makeshift home for his dogs. Though they were bred to revel in our freezing winters, sometimes the weather got too awful even for them. To one side, Heimar’s sled lay half submerged in a drift. Horrible thoughts tumbled and spun in my head, yet what troubled me the most was Loki’s overwhelming fear. I’d never seen him like that. He feared for his life. For sure, the sight of the house razed to the ground was shocking, but not frightening. Not really, anyway. It made me think. Perhaps I hadn’t yet seen everything he had? But what else was there? Puzzled, I looked around again.

  ‘Heimar!’ I shouted. ‘Freya!’ My calls echoed through the forest and mountains. ‘Heimar! Freya!’ There was no reply except for my own voice. I realized there was nothing else for it – I had to take a closer look. I broke cover and walked slowly towards the ruin. As I did so, I saw Loki’s boot prints. They led to within about three feet of the house and then abruptly changed direction towards the outbuildings. Then it dawned on me. I knew exactly what Loki had been thinking. Heimar’s sled was still there but there was no sight or sound of his dogs. Normally they’d hear or smell us coming and yap excitedly, straining at their leashes, their tails flicking in feverish anticipation. No one could get within fifty yards of the house without them letting Heimar know he had visitors. Not today though. Only the wind singing through the trees greeted our arrival.

  I followed in Loki’s steps, scuffing my boots through the dry white powder. As I approached the first of the sheds, I saw that the heavy padlock and chain were missing. I also saw that the door to the other shed, the glorified kennel, had been torn from its hinges and then put back sloppily against the frame. There was just enough room to squeeze through a gap. Loki’s boot prints led me to it.

  Inside, it was ominously dark. I took a deep breath and braced myself. In truth, I didn’t really want to go any further, but knew I had to. I tried to ignore the blood in the doorway, the blood that had mixed with snow to create an awful reddish-yellow slush. My head ached and pounded with the most horrible question imaginable – whose blood was it? I grasped the edge of the door, mumbled a quick prayer and gave it one almighty yank.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Captured!

  INSIDE, HEIMAR’S MAGNIFICENT dogs lay silent, their eyes wide open, staring right through me to beyond this world, their tongues dangling from bloodied jaws. I felt my guts rise up and my knees give a little. Of course, I knew all the dogs by name and by nature: Algron, the largest and strongest; his mother, Bestla, and her daughter, Frigg; and finest, cleverest of all, my favourite dog, the brave Sleipnir, as swift as his namesake, the Norse god Odin’s magical eight-legged horse. I found myself shaking as I knelt down, removed my gloves and stroked their fine, long, silver-grey fur. There was slight warmth to them still. They’d not been dead long. I saw each had been shot and, from the way they lay bent and twisted, figured each had fought death valiantly. Consumed by fury, I clenched my fists so tightly it felt like my knuckles might explode out of their sockets.

  I stood up quickly, stepped back and leaned heavily against the door frame, taking small gasps of air and trying to swallow my horror. I felt sick, really sick, bile burning the back of my throat. How odd this was, I thought. It sickened me more than the sight of Idur’s body; more than seeing the body of another human being! Perhaps it was the blood, or simply the scale of the slaughter. Or was it that I knew the dogs so well? Loved them even. Whatever. A great evil had visited this place and I’d seen enough.

  I ran all the way back to the shore, where Loki had already climbed into the boat. ‘I’m getting out of here, Finn. First Idur, now this.’

  ‘But our mission!’ I shouted.

  ‘To hell with that.’

  I stood on the jetty, confused, angry and frightened. Maybe he was right, I thought. The S-phone wasn’t any use without Heimar or Freya. And what about Jack, Bald Eagle? Where was he?

  ‘Come on, Finn!’ Loki slotted the oars into their rowlocks.

  ‘Wait!’ I shouted. ‘Don’t you want to find out what’s happened to Freya?’

  ‘Of course I do. But what can we do, Finn? It’s just the two of us.’ He pointed towards the trees. ‘And we’re probably up against the whole blasted German army.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid. We can’t just give up.’

  ‘Yes we can, Finn. Let’s get home. Father will know what’s best. He’ll know what to do.’

  ‘By the time we get back it’ll probably be too late for your father to do anything, Loki.’

  My friend cursed and slammed the oars into the bottom of the boat. ‘I know! Damn it, Finn. But what other options do we have?’

  I looked around for inspiration. ‘I don’t know. But let’s pray they escaped in time.’

  Loki scrambled up onto the jetty and made for the path between the trees, to where the S-phone and the belt lay in the snow. He stared at them. ‘So what do we do with this thing?’ he snapped. ‘Leave it here? Hide it? Take it back? Chuck it into the fjord? What?’

  ‘I don’t know, Loki. I simply don’t know.’

  My friend paced back and forth. ‘Did you see any other tracks, Finn?’

  ‘No. Did you?’

  He shook his head. ‘It snowed last night. Probably covered them.’

  ‘Yes, but Heimar’s dogs were still warm. They haven’t been dead long. Maybe we just missed the other tracks. Perhaps we should go and take another look. What do you think?’

  We made for the smouldering ruin again and slowly circled it, looking for clues. At the back of Heimar’s house I thought I saw what might have been footprints, now just slight depressions in the snow. I couldn’t be sure but pointed them out to Loki. He examined them closely and then trudged over to the edge of the clearing. There he crouched down for a moment before waving me over.

  ‘See, Finn? The fresh snow hasn’t been blown into the trees. The snow on this path is barely covered at all. And look’– he pointed – ‘boot prints. And not just one person either. Lots of them. They attacked from this direction, Finn. I’m sure of it.’

  I knelt down, my brain racing. ‘Look, let’s examine the possibilities,’ I said. ‘Worst case – Idur, Heimar and Freya are dead. Or they got captured. Or they escaped.’

  ‘I’m not sure I want to think about it, Finn. It’s too horrible.’

  ‘We have to, Loki. But let’s assume they did manage to escape. Where would they go?’

  ‘Heimar’s boat’s still here, so they didn’t cross the fjord unless they took Idur’s boat.’

  ‘Uh-huh. Where else could they go?’

  Loki clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth and glanced about feverishly. ‘The nearest village is about six miles from here. I read in the paper that
Fritz cleared the place out. It’s just a ghost town now. And there’s nothing else this side of the fjord except Idur’s old place. So I expect they’re hiding out in the wilderness somewhere.’ He sighed. ‘They could be anywhere.’

  It all seemed utterly impossible. But I kept on thinking about Idur – his house was only a mile or so away. ‘About Idur’s house. I think it’s worth a look. After all, we’ve got nothing to lose. It’s a starting point.’

  ‘But there’s no point going there, Finn. He lives – I mean lived all alone. They’ve probably burned his house down too.’

  ‘I know. But we should take a look. If his boat has gone, maybe Heimar and Freya took it.’

  ‘OK, Finn, you win. But we should hide the S-phone first. It’s too dangerous just to leave it out in the open or in our rowing boat. I know – we’ll bury it in that crate Heimar used to conceal his rifles. And it’s probably best to take the shore path to Idur’s. That way we can hide if a patrol comes our way. It has to be safer than rowing along the shore. We’d be far too exposed on the water.’ He looked me in the eye. ‘But after we’ve checked out Idur’s place we’re going home. Agreed?’

  ‘All right.’

  We buried the S-phone in the woods and decided to carry a rifle each. I counted out thirty rounds of ammo, figuring that if we needed more, we’d be in such deep trouble that we’d be doomed. Loki, however, filled every pocket of his anorak with bullets until they bulged. ‘If we come across trouble,’ he hissed, ‘I want to make sure I make them regret the day they were born. I won’t go down without a fight.’

  I felt obliged to stuff my pockets with bullets too.

  We traipsed along the path close to the shore of the fjord. ‘Path’ proved to be an exaggeration. Snow and ice obliterated anything resembling a well-trodden route, so we picked our way as best we could up and over rocks, around trees, and trudged up and down steep slopes, largely guessing the best way.

  Now and again we paused for breath and spent a few moments scanning the surface of the fjord for boats, and the sky for aircraft. Any sign of Fritz and we’d have to dive for cover in the thin band of trees hugging the shoreline. The winter sun shimmered on the water, making it look like a fabulous stash of jewels. There were days when everything looked brighter, clearer, more in focus somehow. You felt as if you could make out every detail. Today was just such a day. The clouds had lifted, the snow and ice storms had blown themselves out, and all of a sudden a wilderness full of dangers looked like paradise.