Lars Kepler - The Sandman

The fridge and freezer stand dark and empty, all the kitchen chairs are missing, and on the windowsills, next to the closed curtains, the houseplants have all withered.

It’s only from the outside that it looks like the family has left.

They go on, into a television room with a corner sofa. Joona steps over the cushions that have been pulled off it.

Marie whispers something that he can’t make out.

The thick curtains covering the windows reach all the way to the floor.

Through the door to the corridor they can see a staircase leading down to the cellar.

They stop when they see a dead dog with a plastic bag taped round its head. It’s lying on the floor in front of the television stand.

Joona carries on towards the corridor and staircase. He can hear his colleagues’ careful footsteps behind him.

Marie’s breathing has speeded up.

The light from her torch is shaking.

Joona moves to the side so he can see into the unlit corridor. Further along it the bathroom door is ajar.

Joona gestures to the others to stop, but Marie is already beside him, pointing the torch towards the stairs. She takes a step closer and tries to see further down the corridor.

‘What’s that?’ she whispers, unable to control the nervousness in her voice.

There’s something lying on the floor by the bathroom door. She points the torch in that direction. It’s a doll with long blonde hair.

The light hovers over its shiny plastic face.

Suddenly the doll is pulled in behind the door.

Marie smiles and takes a long stride forward, but at the same moment there’s a stomach-churning bang.

The flare as the shotgun goes off fills the corridor like lightning.

It looks as if Marie is hit hard in the back, as some of the hail of shot cuts right through her neck.

Her head flies back and blood spurts out of the exit wound in her throat.

The torch hits the floor.

Marie is really already dead when she takes one last step with her head hanging loose. She collapses in a heap with one leg folded beneath her, raising her hips at an odd angle.

Joona has drawn his pistol, released the safety catch and spun round. The corridor leading to the stairs is empty. There’s no one there. Whoever fired the shot must have disappeared down into the cellar.

Blood is bubbling from Marie’s neck, steaming in the chill air.

The torch is rolling slowly over the floor.

‘Dear God, dear God,’ Eliot whispers.

Their ears are ringing from the blast.

A child suddenly appears with the doll in its arms, slips on the blood, lands on its back and disappears into the darkness by the staircase. Footsteps thud down the stairs and disappear with a clatter.

Joona kneels down and takes a quick look at Marie. There’s nothing to be done, the heavy charge hit her lungs and heart and ripped through her carotid artery.

Eliot Sörenstam is yelling and sobbing into his radio, calling for an ambulance and backup.

‘Police,’ Joona shouts down the stairs. ‘Put the weapon down and—’

The shotgun goes off again from down in the cellar, and the shot hits the wood of the stairs, sending up a cascade of splinters.

Joona hears the metallic click as the gun snaps open. He rushes over, reaches the stairs as he hears the little sigh as the first empty cartridge is released.

Taking several steps at a time, Joona races down the dark stairs, pistol raised.

Eliot Sörenstam has picked up the torch to give him some light, and the beam reaches the bottom of the stairs just in time for Joona to stop himself before he’s impaled.

At the foot of the stairs the kitchen chairs have been piled up to form a barricade. The protruding legs have been sharpened into spears, and kitchen knives have been fixed to them with duct tape.

Joona aims his Colt Combat over the barricade, into a room containing a billiard table.

There’s no sign of anyone, everything’s quiet again.

The adrenalin in his body makes him strangely calm, as if he were in a new, sharper version of reality.

Slowly he takes his finger off the trigger and loosens the rope that’s tied to the end of the banister to help him get round the barricade.

‘What the hell are we going to do?’ Eliot whispers with panic in his voice as he comes down.

‘Are you wearing a bulletproof vest?’

‘Yes.’

‘Shine the torch further into the cellar,’ Joona says as he starts to move.

There are two empty shotgun cartridges on the floor, surrounded by broken glass and empty tins of food. Eliot is breathing too fast, holding the torch next to his pistol as he shines it into the corners. It’s warmer down here, and there’s a sharp smell of sweat and urine.

There’s wire strung across the passageway at neck height, forcing them to duck down. Behind them the wires tap against each other.

Suddenly they hear whispering, and Joona stops and signals to Eliot. A ticking sound, followed by footsteps.

‘Run, run,’ someone whispers.

Cold air rushes in and Joona hurries forward, while the shaky light from Eliot Sörenstam’s torch sweeps round the cellar. There is a boiler room to their left, and in the other direction some concrete steps lead up to an open cellar door.

Snow is blowing in over the steps.

Joona has already caught sight of the concealed figure as the light of the torch glints off the knife-blade.

He takes another step forward, and hears rapid breathing followed by a sudden whimper.

A tall woman with a dirty face rushes out with a knife in her hand, and Joona instinctively aims his pistol at her torso.

‘Watch out!’ Eliot cries.

It’s a matter of no more than a second, but Joona still has time to decide not to shoot. Without thinking he moves towards her, stepping quickly aside as she lunges. He blocks her arm, grabs it and lets his shoulders carry on moving, hitting the left side of her neck with his lower right arm. The blow is so hard and sudden that it knocks her backwards.

Joona is holding the arm holding the knife. There’s a cracking sound, like two stones knocking together underwater, as her elbow breaks. The woman falls to the floor, howling with pain.

The knife clatters to the ground. Joona kicks it away, then aims his pistol towards the boiler room.

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.