John Lindqvist - Handling The Undead

It was a hand. A severed hand. The skin was wrinkled, thin. The flesh on the front of the index finger was gone and only a stick-thin bone remained.

He swallowed, poking the hand with the axe. It rolled over among the glass, lay still. He snorted. What had he expected? That it was going to jump up and put on a stranglehold? He shone the light through the window

and saw nothing except rocks sticking up from the creeping juniper.

'OK,' he said to Anna when he returned to the kitchen. 'I'll go out and look around.'

'No… '

'Then what should we do? Go to bed, hope that…

' weevil… '

'What was that?'

'It wants to do evil.'

Mahler shrugged, brandishing the axe. 'Were you. the one who… '

'Had to. It wanted to get in.'

The adrenaline rush that had kept him going ever since he heard Anna's scream from the boat was starting to abate, and he was faint with hunger. He sank down on the floor next to Anna, breathing heavily. He pulled over the cooler, took out a packet of hot dogs, wolfed two of them and held the rest out to Anna, who made a face.

He ate two more but it felt like the effort of chewing was simply making him hungrier. When he had swallowed the pulpy mass he asked, 'Elias?'

Anna looked at the bundle in her arms and said, 'He's scared.' Her voice was cracked but audible.

Mahler took out a packet of cinnamon buns and ate five. More chewy mass to swallow. He drank a couple of sips of lukewarm milk out of the container and felt just as hungry as before, except that now he also had a heavy mass in his stomach. He leaned back, lying down on the floor to try and get the heaviness to distribute itself more evenly.

'Let's go back,' Anna said.

Mahler shone the flashlight on the petrol container under the kitchen counter and said, 'If there's petrol in it we can. Otherwise it's out of the question.'

'We don't have any fuel?'

'No.'

'I thought you were going to… ' 'I didn't have the energy.'

Anna did not say anything, which he thought was worse than if

she had berated him. Rage slowly kindled in his chest.

'I've been working,' he said. 'The whole time since we… '

'Not now,' Anna said. 'Stop it.'

Mahler clenched his teeth, rolled over and crawled up to the petrol container, lifting it. It was very light, because it was empty.

Fucking idiots, he thought. The fucking idiots don't have any reserve fuel.

From the door he heard Anna snort, remembered that she knew what he was thinking. He slowly pulled himself up to his feet, taking the torch and the axe.

'You can sit there and laugh,' he said. 'I'll just go out and… ' he waved the axe toward the door. Anna did not move.

'Can you let me out?'

'It isn't like Elias,' Anna said. 'It's been alone, it… '

'Can you please move away from the door?'

Anna looked him in the eyes.

'What do I do?' she said. 'What do I do if… something happens?'

Mahler gave a short bitter laugh.

'Is that what you're worried about?' He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, turned it on and entered the PIN. He gave it to her. 'Nine, one, one. If anything happens.'

Anna inspected the phone as if to check that there was reception, then said, 'We're calling now.'

'No,' Mahler said and reached for the phone. 'In that case I'll keep it.' Anna sighed and hid the phone in the blankets. 'You won't cal1?'

Anna shook her head and let go of the door. 'Daddy. We're not doing the right thing.'

'Yes,' Mahler said. 'I think we are.'

He opened the door and let the beam of light play over the rocks, grass and raspberry bushes. When he raised the beam it lit up a gap in the curtain of alder trees between the house and the water, and he saw a person lying on the shallow jutting rocks in the opening of the inlet. The torch was not really necessary, the moonlight was enough to make out the white shape lying with its torso on the rock, its head by the water's edge.

'I see it,' he said.

'What are you going to do?'

'Remove it.'

He left the house. Anna did not close the door as he had believed she would. When he had taken a couple of steps toward the creature, he turned around. Anna was sitting on the step, hugging the bundle and watching him.

Perhaps it should have made him happy, even touched, but he simply felt scrutinised: Anna did not trust him and was sitting there now to watch him fail, again.

When he reached the shore and passed the boat he saw what the creature was doing. It was drinking. It was lying on its stomach, scooping sea water into its mouth with its one remaining hand.

Mahler turned off the flashlight and crept over the slick seaweed,

gripping the axe.

Get rid of it.

That was what he was going to do. Get rid of it.

He was about twenty metres away when it stood up. It was a person, and yet it wasn't. The moon gave enough light to see that large parts of its body were missing. A soft southerly breeze carried the stench of rotten fish. Mahler waded through an area with reeds and then came up on the rock where the creature was waiting for him. Its head was tilted as if it couldn't believe its eyes.

Eyes?

It had no eyes. Its head turned from side to side as if it was sniffing, or listening for the sound of his steps. When Mahler was a couple of feet away from it, he saw that the skin on its chest had been eaten away, and its ribs stuck out white in the moonlight. He saw a movement and caught his breath, thinking it was the creature's heart, pulsating.

He raised the axe and turned on the flashlight. Aimed at the creature, to blind it if it still had eyes to see with. The light made it chalk-white against the sea, and now Mahler saw what was causing the motion: inside the chest cavity was a fat black eel, caught as if in a trap, eating its way out.

Reflexively, from some kind of basic human shame at his own grossness, Mahler turned away before the food he had eaten erupted from his stomach and spurted through his lips. Sausage, pastries, milk poured out onto the rock and ran down into the water. He turned again, so as not to have his back to the creature, even before his nausea had fully subsided.

Vomit continued to trickle down between his trembling jaws, down over his chin. He saw the eel thrash around inside the chest and in the stillness he heard the sound of its snake-body, gliding over the remnant flesh of its prison. Mahler wiped his mouth but his jaws did not stop chattering.

His revulsion was such that the only impulse in his head was aversion beyond all reason, a command to remove-extinguishthis abomination from the face of the Earth.

Kill it. … kill it. …

He took a step toward the creature and at the same time the creature moved towards him. It was quick, much quicker than he had thought possible with that wreck of a body. There were a couple of clicks as the bones clashed against the rock and even in his blind rage, Mahler backed up. It was the eel. He did not want that eel, grown fat on human flesh, to come near him.

He backed up and slipped in his own vomit. The axe flew from his hand as his body landed with a wet thud. His neck was jerked back by the blow and the back of his head struck the rock. Bright lights flashed and the instant before they died and dropped him into the darkness, he felt the creature's hands on his body.

Labbskar Island 21.50

Anna saw it happen. She saw her father fall flat on the rock, heard his head meet the unyielding surface, saw the creature throw itself over him. She flew to her feet, still with Elias in her arms.

God, no! The fucking bastard. …

The creature lifted its head in their direction and at that moment she heard Elias' voice inside her head.