12

A goods train is thundering through the nocturnal winter landscape. The Traxx train is pulling almost three hundred metres of wagons behind it.

In the driver’s cab sits Erik Johnsson. His hand is resting on the control. The noise from the engine and the rails is rhythmic and monotonous.

The snow seems to be rushing out of a tunnel of light formed by the two headlights. The rest is darkness.

As the train emerges from the broad curve around Vårsta, Erik Johnsson increases speed again.

He’s thinking that the snow is so bad that he’s going to have to stop at Hallsberg, if not before, to check the braking distance.

Far off in the haze two deer scamper off the rails and away across the white fields. They move through the snow with magical ease, and disappear into the night.

As the train approaches the long Igelsta Bridge, Erik thinks back to when Sissela sometimes used to accompany him on journeys. They would kiss in each tunnel and on every bridge. These days she refuses to miss a single yoga lesson.

He brakes gently, passes Hall and heads out across the high bridge. It feels like flying. The snow is swirling and twisting in the headlights, removing any sense of up and down.

The train is already in the middle of the bridge, high above the ice of Hallsfjärden, when Erik Johnsson sees a flickering shadow through the haze. There’s someone on the track. Erik sounds the horn and sees the figure take a long step to the right, onto the other track.

The train is approaching very fast. For half a second the man is caught in the light of the headlamps. He blinks. A young man with a dead face. His clothes are trembling on his skinny frame, and then he’s gone.

Erik isn’t conscious of the fact that he’s applied the brakes and that the whole train is slowing down. There’s a rumbling sound and the screech of metal, and he isn’t sure if he ran over the young man.

He’s shaking, and can feel adrenalin coursing through his body as he calls SOS Alarm.

‘I’m a train driver, I’ve just passed someone on the Igelsta Bridge... he was in the middle of the tracks, but I don’t think I hit him...’

‘Is anyone injured?’ the operator asks.

‘I don’t think I hit him, I only saw him for a few seconds.’

‘Where exactly did you see him?’

‘In the middle of the Igelsta Bridge.’

‘On the tracks?’

‘There’s nothing but tracks up here, it’s a fucking railway bridge...’

‘Was he standing still, or was he walking in a particular direction?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘My colleague is just alerting the police and ambulance in Södertälje. We’ll have to stop all rail traffic over the bridge.’

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