John Lindqvist - Handling The Undead

As he turned to the house, Elvy saw the white rectangle in his collar, and she wiped her hands on her robe preparing herself to greet him. Flora whistled, but Elvy paid her no attention. This was senous.

The man arrived swiftly at house – his gait was surprisingly energetic for someone so rotund – and stretched out his hand

'Good evening. Or good morning, perhaps. Bernt Janson.'

Elvy took his hand, which was warm and firm, curtsied and said, 'Elvy Lundberg.'

Bernt shook hands with Flora as well, and went on 'Yes, I'm a hospital chaplain at Huddinge normally, but tonight I’m out riding around in an ambulance.' His expression became more grave. 'How are you coping with this, then?'

'Fine,' Elvy said. 'We're doing fine’.

Bernt nodded and kept silent to let Elvy continue. When she didn't, he said, 'Yes, it’s an extraordinary situation, this. Many people are finding it extremely disturbing.’

Flv y had nothing to add. She really had one question, which she now posed.

'How can this be happening?'

'Well,' Bernt said, 'that's something everyone's wondering, naturally. And unfortunately I can only say: we don't know.'

'But surely you must know!'

Elvy's voice took on a more forceful note and Bernt looked surprised.

'How… do you mean?'

Elvy glanced at Flora, forgetting that her grandchild was not

the person from whom to seek support. Even more irritated, she stamped her foot into the paving and said loudly, 'Are you standing here in front of me, a minister of the Church of Sweden, and telling me that you do not know what this means? Do you have a Bible on you, shall I look it up for you?'

Bernt raised his arm to placate her. 'I see, you mean…'

Flora left them and walked into the house. Elvy didn't notice.

'Yes, I do. You can't seriously mean that this is just an unusual

occurrence, like… snow in June. Can you? "On the last day the dead shall rise from their graves"… '

Bernt made a calming gesture. 'Yes, well, perhaps it's a little early to comment on… these matters.' He looked up and down the street, scratched the back of his neck and lowered his voice, 'But of course these things may turn out to have a greater significance.'

Elvy did not give up. 'Don't you believe it?' she asked.

'Yes…' Bernt looked at the ambulance, took half a step closer to Elvy and said, right next to her ear, 'Yes. Yes, I do.'

'Well then, say so.'

Bernt resumed his earlier posture. He looked somewhat more

relaxed now, but still spoke in a low voice. 'Yes, that opinion is not completely comme it faut, so to speak. That is not why I am here. It wouldn't be acceptable for me to go around in this kind of situation

and… preach.'

Elvy understood. She may have felt it was cowardly, but of course most people would not want a doomsday preacher on a night like this.

'So you do believe,' she said, 'that this is the Second Coming. All of that. That it will be as it's written?'

Now Bernt could no longer retain his composure. His face broke out in a wide, joyous grin and he whispered, 'Yes! Yes, I believe it will!'

Elvy smiled back. At least now there were two of them.

The paramedics returned with Tore between them. Both wore expressions of controlled revulsion. As they came closer, Elvy understood why. The front of Tore's shirt was damp, spotted with a yellowish fluid, and a stench of rotting organic matter enveloped him. He had started to defrost.

'Well, now,' Bernt said. 'Here we have…' 'Tore,' Elvy said.

'Tore, I see.'

Flora came after him. She had been in the bedroom and collected her clothes, her bag. She walked up to Bernt, looking him up and down. Bernt did the same; his eyes locked for one second with Marilyn Manson's, and Elvy clasped her hands in front of her chest, tried to send Flora a telepathic signal that this was not the right moment for a theological discussion. But Flora's question was of a more practical nature.

'What are you doing with them?' she asked.

'We… For now we're taking them to Danderyd.'

'And then? What will they do?'

Tore had been led into the ambulance and Elvy said, 'Flora, they are very busy…'

Flora turned to Elvy. 'Aren't you interested? Don't you want to know what they'll do with Grandpa?'

'It is, of course…' Bernt cleared his throat, 'a very natural question. And the fact is that we do not know. But I can assure you that no one will do anything with them, so to speak.'

'What do you mean?' Flora asked.

‘Well…’ Brent frowned. ‘I didn’t know what you meant, but I assumed…'

'How can you be so sure, then?'

Bernt shot Elvy a look, these young people, which Elvy returned half-heartedly. One of the paramedics had stayed with Tore, but the other came over to them and said, 'Loaded and ready to go.' Bernt made a faint grimace and the man grinned and said, 'You done?'

'Yes,' Bernt turned to Elvy, 'Perhaps you'd like to accompany us?' When Elvy shook her head, he said, 'No, no. But someone will be in touch as soon… as soon as we know something.'

He shook Elvy's hand goodbye. When he stretched his hand out to Flora, she took it and said, 'I'll come with you.'

'Well,' Bernt said, looking at Elvy, 'I'm not sure that's appropriate.'

'Just into town,' Flora said. 'A lift. I've already asked.'

Bernt turned toward the ambulance driver who confirmed this with a nod. Bernt sighed, turned to Elvy. 'If that's all right with you.'

'The girl can do as she likes,' Elvy said. 'I bet she can,' Bernt said.

Flora walked over and hugged Elvy. 'I have to go talk to a friend.'

'Now?'

'Yes. As long as you're going to be OK, that is.'

'I'll be fine.'

Elvy stayed at the gate and watched Flora climb into the back of the ambulance with Bernt. She waved, and thought about the smell. The doors were closed. The ambulance engine started, the flashing lights were turned on for an instant, then immediately switched off. Slowly, the ambulance backed up into the driveway of the house opposite, turned and-

Elvy's fingers splayed, her eyes widened and an ever-intensifying feeling drove through her body like a stake: Tore. She staggered slightly, bracing herself against the fencepost. Tore was here. The same trace impression that had lingered in his room, slowly receding, was in her head at full force. He filled her and in her head she heard his voice:

Mum, help me! I'm stuck… I don't want to go away… I want to

stay home, Mummy…

The ambulance turned out of the driveway.

Mum… she's coming, she…

And Tore's voice was on its way out of her, shedding her like a skin. But if his voice had been strong, as if amplified, she could now discern Flora's weaker voice through the din.

Nana… can you hear it? Are you the one he…

Elvy perceived physically how the field dissolved and her body became her own again, and only had time to send-

I hear

– before it was gone and she was just Elvy, leaning up against the fencepost. The ambulance accelerated down the street and she only glimpsed it as a white blotch before her head fell down, forced down by the whining of a thousand mosquitoes pressing in through her ears and the headache flaring up like red suns on the inside of her eyelids.

But she had seen it.

She squeezed the post to stop herself from falling to the asphalt. Her head pressed down, she was unable to open her eyes in order to get a better view. She was not allowed to. It was forbidden.

The pain only lasted a few seconds, then disappeared immediately. She lifted her head, looking at the point where the ambulance had been a moment before.

The woman was gone.

But Elvy had seen her. The second before the ambulance had disappeared from her field of vision, she had seen-out of the corner of her eye-a tall slender woman with dark hair, emerge from behind the vehicle and stretch her arms toward it. Then the pain had forced Elvy to look away.