The Sandman

113

A middle-aged man is half-lying over the geo-energy pump. He’s been tied up with rope and duct tape, and there’s a rag in his mouth.

Eliot Sörenstam cuffs the woman to a water pipe as Joona cautiously approaches the man, explains that he’s a police officer, and removes the gag.

‘The girls,’ the man gasps. ‘They ran out, you mustn’t hurt the girls, they’re—’

‘Is there anyone else here?’

Eliot’s already run up the concrete steps.

‘Only the girls.’

‘How many?’

‘Two... Susanne gave them the shotgun, they’re just scared, they’ve never used a gun, you mustn’t hurt them,’ the man pleads desperately. ‘They’re just scared...’

Joona runs up the steps and out into the back garden. Behind him the man calls out over and over again, telling them not to hurt the girls.

Footsteps lead across the garden and straight into the forest. A beam of light is flickering among the trees.

‘Eliot,’ Joona shouts. ‘There’s only children out here!’

He follows the tracks into the forest and feels the sweat on his face cooling.

‘They’re armed!’ Joona calls.

He runs towards the light between the trees. Twigs snap beneath the snow under his weight. Ahead of him he can see Eliot pushing through the snow with his pistol and torch.

‘Wait!’ Joona shouts, but Eliot doesn’t seem to hear.

Loose snow falls from a tree with soft thumps.

In the weak light he can make out the children’s tracks among the trees, at different angles, then the straight line of Eliot’s steps following them.

‘They’re just children!’ Joona cries again, trying to gain on him by sliding down a steep slope.

He slips onto one hip, bringing down loose stones and pine cones, and scrapes his back on something, but gets to his feet again as he reaches the bottom.

Through the dense foliage he can make out the searching beam of the torch, and close by a skinny girl is standing next to a tree, holding the shotgun in both hands.

Joona runs straight through the thicket of dry twigs. He tries to shield his face, but his cheeks still get scratched. He sees Eliot’s frame moving between the tree trunks, then the little girl behind the tree steps out and fires the gun at the policeman.

The cloud of shot hits the snow just a metre or so in front of the end of the barrel. The butt jerks back and the girl’s thin frame is shaken by the recoil. She falls and Eliot spins round and aims his pistol at her.

‘Wait!’ Joona shouts, trying to force his way through the branches.

He ends up with snow all over him and inside his coat, but the branches give way and he emerges on the other side, and stops abruptly.

Eliot Sörenstam is sitting on the ground, with his arms round the sobbing girl. A few steps away her little sister is standing and staring at them.