John Lindqvist - Handling The Undead

The only thing that seemed to have anything to do with him was the black clouds that were slowly approaching. As yet, they were still distant, but they looked to be closing in on Stockholm. He heard a roaring in his ears, felt an itch behind his eyelids. The sunshine did not reach in under his tree, so he curled up against the trunk, picked up the newspapers and read the article again. This too seemed to be about him.

Without really knowing what he wanted to say, what he actually wanted, he took out his cell phone and dialled the newspaper. He told them who he was and said he was looking for Gustav Mahler. He learned that Mahler was a freelancer; unfortunately they could not give out his number, however they would pass on a message and was there anything in particular he wished to say?

'No, I just wanted… to talk to him.'

This would be relayed.

David took the subway back to Kungsholmen. Everyone in the subway carriage who was talking, was talking about the dead. They all thought it was horrible. Someone noticed him, realised who he was and went silent. No condolences this time.

Even on his way toward the school he felt how the threads that usually connected him to the world were severed. At most he was a pair of eyes hovering through the air, avoiding obstacles, stopping for a red light. At the school he grasped a black metal railing, held onto it.

Then the bell rang and the children came pouring out. He opened his eyes and saw the mass of biological tissue that hopped and skipped its way down the stairs and he held onto the railing so that he would not float away.

When the flood had spread out across the schoolyard and started to gush through the gates, Magnus came out. Pushed open the doors with all his might and ended up standing up on the landing, looking around.

David became aware of the railing in his hand. Aware that he had a hand that was holding onto the railing; that the hand was attached to a body that was his. He fell back into his body and became… a father. He was back in the world and he went to meet his son.

'Hi buddy.'

Magnus hoisted his backpack and stared at the ground.

'Dad… '

'Yes?'

'Has Mum become like one of those orcs?'

Evidently there had been talk at school. David had gone back and forth about how to tell him, how he would take it one step at a time, but now that possibility was gone. He took Magnus by the hand and they started to walk home.

'Have you talked about it at school today?'

'Yes. Robin said that it was the same thing as the orcs, that they eat human flesh and stuff.'

'Well, what did the teacher say?'

'Said that it wasn't like that, that it was like… Dad?'

'Yes.'

'Do you know who Lazarus is?'

'Yes. Come on…'

They sat down on the edge of the sidewalk. Magnus took out his Pokemons,

'I've traded five cards. Do you want to see?'

'Magnus, you know…'

David took the cards out of Magnus' hand, and Magnus let him. He stroked the back of his son's head; the thin summery white-blond hair, the fragile skull underneath.

'First of all. Mum hasn't become one of those… orcs. She has just been in an accident.'

The words dried up, he did not know how to go on. He flipped through the cards; Grimer, Koffing, Ghastly, Tentacool; all more or less terrifying creatures.

Why does everything in their world have to be about horror?

Magnus pointed at Ghastly. 'Scary, isn't he?'

'Mmm. You know, it's… you know what you were talking about today. It has happened to Mum. But she is… much healthier than all the others.'

Magnus took back his cards, sorted through them for a while.

Then asked, 'Is she dead?'

'Yes, but… she's alive.'

Magnus nodded. 'So when is she coming back?'

'I don't know. But she is coming back. Somehow.'

They sat quietly next to each other. Magnus went through all his cards. Looked carefully at a couple. Then his head pulled down to his shoulders and he started to cry. David threw his arms around him and Magnus curled up into a ball, pressed his face against David's chest. 'I want her to be home now . When I get home.'

The tears welled up in David's eyes as well. He rocked Magnus back and forth, stroking his hair.

'I know sweetheart…I know.'

Bondegatan 15.00

The curved stone staircase to Flora's apartment on the third floor was worn by generations of feet. Like most of the old houses, this building on Bondegatan was aging with dignity. Wood and stone bulged or wore away; there was not the crack and break of concrete. A building with character, and Flora loved it despite herself.

She knew how each one of the forty-two steps looked, knew each irregularity in the stairwell walls. About a year earlier she had drawn an anarchist symbol the size of a fist down by the front door in felt pen. She had been jarred herself by the sight of it each time she walked by, and was relieved when it was painted over.

Her head was spinning when she reached the top of the stairs. She had eaten nothing all day and had only had a few hours' sleep at night. She opened the door and had time to hear a couple of seconds of grinding techno from the living room before it was turned off. Then an agitated whispering and rapid movements.

When she reached the living room, Viktor-her ten-year-old brother-and the friend, Martin, at whose place he had spent the night, were each sitting in an armchair absorbed in a Donald Duck comic.

'Viktor?'

He answered 'Mmm' without raising his eyes from the magazine. Martin raised his comic so she couldn't see his face. She did not waste her breath on them, instead she pressed the eject button on the VCR and took out the tape, holding it out to Viktor.

'What the hell are you doing?' He did not answer. She snatched the comic from his hands. 'Hello! 1 asked you something.'

'Give it a rest,' Viktor said. 'We just wanted to know what it was.'

'For an hour?'

'Five minutes.'

'That's a crock. I know by the music where you were. You almost saw the whole thing.'

'How many times have you seen it then?'

Flora banged the video- The Day of the Dead -into Viktor's head with a judicious amount of force.

'Stay away from my stuff.'

'We just wanted to see what it was’

'I see. Was it fun?’

The boy exchanged glances and shook their heads… Viktor said, 'But it was cool when they pulled them apart.'

'Mm. Really cool. We'll see what kind of dreams you have tonight.'

Flora did not think they would dip into her video library anymore. She sensed the childish revulsion and fear seeping from their bodies. The movie had made its mark. Probably Viktor and Martin would now be haunted by the images the way she had been after seeing Cannibal Ferox at an older friend's house when she was twelve. It had never left her.

‘Flora’ Viktor asked. ‘Is it true that they’ve come up out from the graves? For real?’

‘Yes’

'Is it like it is on there?" Viktor pointed to the cassette in Flora's hand. ‘That they eat people and stuff?'

'No.'

'So what is it then?'

Flora shrugged. Viktor had been very sad about their grandfather's death, but Flora had intuited that it was less the person he grieved for than the fact of death itself. Death meant that people actually disappeared. That everyone was going to disappear.

'Are you scared?' she asked.

'1 was super scared when 1 walked home from school,' Martin said. '1 kept thinking everyone was one of those zombies.'

'Me too,' Viktor said. 'But 1 saw one for real. He was totally sick in the eyes. Man, I ran so fast. Do you think Grandpa will get like that?'

'Don't know,' Flora lied and went to her room.

She nodded at Pinhead who was staring at her from the poster on the wall, and then she put the video back on the shelf. She should eat something but did not have the energy to go to the fridge and get it all the together. It felt good to be hungry-ascetic. She lay down on the bed and her body was at peace.