Postcard killers

Chapter 131

The forest grew thicker after Ornskoldsvik, and signs of habitation thinned out. Between the towns of Umea and Skel eftea, a distance of almost 150 kilometers, Jacob hardly saw a single house. The end of the world was getting closer and closer, wasn't it?

In the town of Byske, the jet lag struck him like a sudden fog. The last traces of his ability to judge distances abandoned him and he woke Dessie to take over at the wheel.

Even with the sun in his eyes, he fel into a restless sleep.

Kimmy was there with him.

She looked like she had when she set off for Rome. She had on her new winter coat and her yel ow wool y hat. So beautiful and talented.

Jacob could see she was upset, crying. She was standing in a glass box, banging her fists against the transparent wal s and cal ing for him, cal ing for her dad. He tried to answer, but she couldn't hear him.

Kimmy! he shouted in the dream. I'm here! I'm coming!

"Jacob?"

He woke with a start.

"What?" he said.

"You were shouting. Having a bad dream."

He sat up and rubbed his eyes hard with his fists.

The car had stopped. They were on the outskirts of a town.

On the left was a large warehouse, and on the right, a long row of office buildings. It was ful daylight, a dul sort of light, filtered through a thin cloud cover. The landscape was flat and bare, not like anything he'd ever seen before.

"Where are we?"

"The bridge over to the Finnish side is only a kilometer from here.

Robert's a bit closer, on the other side of the rotary. Nothing came through during the night. No red Volvo. No young couple."

He blinked and looked around.

"This is Haparanda?"

"Kyl a."

He looked at her, confused.

"Finnish for yes, babe. Let's go. Robert's waiting for us."

She started the car and drove toward a large rotary with what was practical y a smal forest at its center.

"He's got men watching al the bridges across the river, and a couple at the main harbors for smal boats. No one's seen anything. Robert's men are vigilant."

"Thank god for organized crime," Jacob said.

"Robert's rough, but he's a good guy."

A huge building with an immense parking lot spread out to the left of the car.

"What the hel is that?" he asked.

"That's the most northerly IKEA in the world. And there's Robert!"

They stopped beside a customized Toyota Land Cruiser, the latest model.

Leaning against the gleaming paintwork was a giant of a man with a blond ponytail and biceps like logs.

Dessie hurried out of the car and threw herself into his arms. The giant received her with a big grin on his face.

A pang of jealousy hit Jacob in the solar plexus. Slowly he got out of the car and approached the enormous man holding on to Dessie.

Robert's arms were covered in clumsy tattoos. He was missing two front teeth.

He would have been perfect, just as he was, as the leader of one of Los Angeles' infamous motorcycle gangs.

"So you're the American?" he said in a thick Swedish accent, holding out his paw.

Jacob's hand disappeared in the iron grip of the fist.

"Yep," he replied. "That's me."

Cousin Robert pul ed him closer and lowered his voice.

"Don't think you can hide just because you're from the States. If you treat Dessie badly, I'l find you."

"That's good to know," Jacob said.

The giant let go of Jacob's hand.

"We've been keeping an eye on the junction in Morjarv al night," Robert said. "They passed it half an hour ago in a red Volvo with false plates. They took the E-ten down toward Haparanda."

Jacob felt adrenaline explode throughout his body. This was it. The end of the tale, at the end of the world.

The gangster looked at his watch, a diamond-encrusted Rolex.

"They could be here any minute."