The Fire Witness

123

Micke is breathing hard. The laser dot jumps around Joona’s chest. It disappears and reappears.

“I can tell that you’re scared,” Joona says. He comes closer.

“Shut your mouth and keep it shut!” Micke says, backing away.

“You’re shaking.”

“Shoot him! What the hell are you waiting for?” yells Roger.

“Put down the weapon,” Joona says.

“Shoot him!”

“He’s too afraid,” Joona says.

“I’m not afraid! I’ll do it!” Roger raises the rifle.

“I don’t believe you,” Joona says. He can see a Thor’s hammer on a chain around Roger’s neck.

“You want me to prove it? You want me to shoot you?” Roger is screaming as he edges closer.

Roger puts his finger on the trigger and aims it at Joona.

“I’ll shoot off your head!” he hisses.

Joona looks at the floor and waits until the man is close enough. Then he whips his arm around and catches the barrel of the rifle, pulls it toward himself, and jerks it around. Its butt bashes Roger’s cheek. His head jerks to the side and he stumbles into the line of fire of the submachine gun. Joona is now behind him and aims the rifle between Roger’s legs. He fires. The sound is deafening and the weapon jumps. The cluster of bullets passes between Roger’s legs and slams right through Micke’s left ankle. His foot is torn off and rolls beneath the cutting table.

Blood pours from the stump of Micke’s leg and he reflexively fires the submachine gun. Six bullets slam into Roger’s chest and shoulders. Micke falls while still screaming and the rest of the shots go wild toward the ceiling, ricocheting among the pipes and the overhead cranes.

Roger falls to his knees and leans forward. His ponytail hangs over his cheek. He is holding himself up with his arms, but a steady stream of blood flows from his chest and drains through the grate for pigs’ blood.

The short man with the prosthesis and the Glock is running toward them. Joona leaps behind one of the machines, one for inflating pigs’ carcasses to make slicing easier. He can hear the man follow him and kick away a rattling cart. The man’s breathing is ragged.

Joona moves backward and opens the rifle. It has just one bullet.

Micke is still screaming and calling for help.

Ten more steps back and Joona spots a yellowed plastic strip curtain over an opening. He realizes that behind it is a refrigerated room. He can glimpse slaughtered pigs hanging there tightly side by side. He thinks that on the other side of the room there must be a door to the loading dock facing the road.