The Rabbit Hunter

29

After studying for three hours, Joona and Marko are let out of the library and start to walk back through the tunnel for lunch.

The security system at Kumla is based on limiting both the range of the inmates’ movement and the opportunities for contact between individuals.

The prisoners are responsible for getting themselves from one place to another, section by section, in order to prevent any trouble spreading between the different wings. Violence still flares up, but tends to die down in the same place it started before it can spread.

They reach the T-junction, where Salim and the guys from Malmö are already waiting for the door to be opened. Imre presses the button again.

Salim looks at the old mural from the 1980s: a pale beach with a young woman in a bikini.

‘While you were busy washing twenty tons of underwear, I got my high-school diploma,’ Marko says with a smile.

Instead of answering, Salim writes ‘Fuck you’ on the woman’s back with a stub of pencil.

After lunch the inmates are allowed an hour’s exercise in the yard. That’s their only time outside, when they can feel the wind on their faces, watch a butterfly float past in the summer, crunch the ice on a puddle in the winter.

When Joona gets out he sees that Salim is alone. He’s standing with his back against the fence.

The yard isn’t particularly large. It’s framed by buildings on two sides, and fences on the others. Further back is the tall wall, and beyond that the electric fence.

You can’t even see the treetops over the top of the wall, just the grey sky.

Two prison guards are watching the inmates.

Most of them are smoking; some of them talk in groups. Joona usually spends his time running, but today he walks with Marko, taking care to stay close to Salim, but not too close.

Joona and Marko pass the battered greenhouse. Reiner is standing by the volleyball net facing one of the security cameras. The rest of the Brotherhood are huddled together talking.

Joona knows that there’s a serious risk of trouble, and has already told Marko to get the guards if anything happens.

They pass the thin strip of sunlight reaching over the wall, and their long shadows stretch all the way to Salim Ratjen, who’s still standing with his back to the fence.

Marko stops to light a cigarette. Joona keeps walking, and as he passes Salim he takes a step towards him.

‘Why would you want to do me a favour?’ he asks, looking at Joona with sombre, golden-brown eyes.

‘Because then you’ll owe me when I get back,’ Joona replies matter-of-factly.

‘Why should I trust you?’

‘You don’t have to,’ Joona says, and keeps walking.

Rolf from the Brotherhood is walking straight towards them. Reiner is bouncing the ball on the ground, and shouts something to the two men who attacked Ratjen at breakfast.

‘I know who you are, Joona Linna,’ Salim Ratjen says.

‘Good,’ Joona replies.

‘The court was pretty tough on you.’

‘I have to ask you to keep your distance,’ Joona says. ‘I don’t belong to any groups. Not yours, and not anyone else’s either.’

‘Sorry,’ Salim says, but doesn’t move.

Joona can see that the two men from the Brotherhood are dragging their feet in the dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Marko glances anxiously to his right and comes closer to Joona.

Reiner passes the volleyball to Rolf, who throws it straight back.

The dust from the path slowly drifts through the sunlight. Reiner holds the ball with both hands as he approaches Salim.

‘Reiner’s going to make his move any second now,’ Joona says.

He turns around and sees that the other two men are approaching from the opposite direction. They’re both carrying concealed weapons close to their bodies.

They kick up more dust, joking and jostling each other as they get closer.

Some other members of the Brotherhood have stopped Marko. They’re holding him by his shoulders, keeping him out of the way, making out like it’s all just for fun.

The Albanian guys from Malmö are smoking with the prison guards.

The dust in the yard grows thicker and the guards start to realise that something’s going on.

Joona takes a few steps closer towards Rolf with his hands outstretched, attempting to calm the situation.

‘Put the weapon down,’ he says.

Rolf is clutching a sharpened screwdriver, a simple weapon which limits the variety of possible attacks. Joona assumes that he’s likely to aim straight for his throat, or swing in from the right, beneath Joona’s left arm.

Reiner is still holding the ball in one hand as he approaches Salim from behind. He’s trying to hide a knife in his other hand.

Joona backs away, drawing Rolf after him.

Marko pulls free and manages to call the guards before he gets punched hard in the stomach.

Salim hears the cry and turns around. The ball hits him in the face and makes him take a step back, but he still manages to grab hold of the arm clutching the knife as Reiner lunges at him. He holds the blade away from him, but stumbles and falls backwards against the fence.

It’s a much more aggressive and dangerous attack than Joona was expecting.

Rolf mutters something and jabs with the screwdriver. Joona twists his body away, reaches past the arm with the weapon and grabs Rolf’s sleeve from behind. With full force he drives his left elbow up under the man’s shoulder. The blow is so hard that Rolf’s arm breaks. The end of the bone juts uselessly from his shoulder socket.

Rolf groans as he stumbles forward from the force of Joona’s blow. The screwdriver falls to the ground and his arm swings loose, held together by muscles and ligaments.

One of the men on the path runs over, clutching a homemade baton made of heavy nuts screwed to a large bolt.

Joona tries to parry the blow but he’s too late. The baton hits him in the back, and pain flares between his shoulder-blades. He falls forward onto his knees but manages to get to his feet again, coughing hard. He sees the next blow coming, jerks his head out of the way and feels the baton whistle past his head.

Joona grabs the arm clutching the weapon. He uses the momentum to pull the man towards him, flips him over his hip and sends him crashing to the ground. Joona lands heavily on top of him with one knee on the man’s chest.

Rolf is still staggering around, clutching his shoulder and bellowing in agony.

Salim is on the ground, but uses his bleeding hand to push himself to his feet.

Marko comes running over, panting for breath. He stops in front of Joona and wipes the blood from his mouth.

‘I’ll say it was me,’ he says.

‘You don’t have to do that,’ Joona replies quickly.

‘It’s OK,’ Marko gasps. ‘You’ve got to get out, to see Valeria.’

The dust is settling as Joona walks up to Salim Ratjen.

Reiner drops the knife on the ground and backs away.

The guys from Malmö are approaching from the other direction. The guards are talking anxiously into their radios.

Joona leads Salim straight past the Malmö guys. They make way to let them through, then close ranks again.

Marko goes over to the man Joona sent flying, shoves him in the back again, and hits him in the face just as the guards start hitting him with their telescopic batons.

Marko falls to the ground and curls up. They keep beating him. He tries to protect his face and neck, but they continue until his body goes limp.

‘I’m sorry about this,’ Salim says to Joona.

‘Tell that to Marko.’

‘I will.’

Salim’s arm and hand are bleeding, but he doesn’t bother to look at his injuries.

‘Reiner is unpredictable,’ Joona says. ‘I don’t know what he wants with you, but it would be best to stay out of his way.’

They watch as more guards come into the yard carrying stretchers.

‘What are you planning to do outside?’ Salim asks.

‘I’m going to apply for a job.’

‘Where?’

‘The National Crime Unit,’ Joona replies.

Salim laughs, then grows serious as he eyes Reiner, who is standing over by the volleyball net.

‘You seem to think you’ll still be going,’ Salim suddenly says.

‘Marko’s taking the blame.’

‘Can I ask you to do me a favour?’

‘If I have time.’

Salim rubs his nose, then takes a step closer to Joona.

‘I really need to get a message to my wife,’ he says quietly.

‘What message?’

‘She needs to call a number and ask for Amira.’

‘That’s all?’

‘She’s changed her number, so you’ll have to go to her flat. She lives outside Stockholm, in Bandhagen: 10 Gnestavägen.’

‘And why would she open the door for me?’

‘Tell her you’ve got a message from da gawand halak, that’s me. It means the neighbour’s boy,’ he replies with a brief smile. ‘Parisa’s very shy, but if you say you’ve got a message from da gawand halak, she’ll let you in. Once you’re in she’ll offer you tea. Accept the offer... but wait until she’s taken out the olives and bread before passing on the message.’