Ларс Кеплер: The Rabbit Hunter

‘Wake up!’ she whispers.

The woman’s eyelids tremble slightly but remain closed. Saga can hear that her breathing is shallower now, and pats her cheek again.

‘Grace?’

Slowly she opens her heavy eyelids, blinks, and looks up in wonder at Saga.

‘I fell asleep,’ she whispers.

‘You can go back to sleep again soon, but I need to know why you’re so sure that Rex is the father of your son, seeing as he didn’t—’

‘Because I’ve seen the DNA test,’ Grace interrupts, trying to sit up in bed.

‘There was no police investigation,’ Saga says. ‘No samples were taken from you, don’t you remember? You said you’d been in a car accident... you didn’t tell anyone about the rape.’

‘I mean the paternity test,’ she replies.

Saga looks at Grace in surprise, sits down on the edge of the bed, and then suddenly realises what happened thirty years ago.

‘You were seeing Rex before you were raped, weren’t you?’

‘I was stupid. I was in love...’

‘Did you have sex?’

‘We just kissed,’ Grace says, looking at Saga in confusion.

‘Is that really all?’

Grace picks at her nightdress and looks down at the floor.

‘We did it on the meadow behind the school... But, I mean, we stopped before he... you know, the way you can stop things...’

‘That isn’t always enough, as you probably know by now?’

‘But...’

Grace lifts the sleeve of her nightdress to her face and wipes her cheeks and nose.

‘Listen,’ Saga says, ‘Rex was locked up in the stable while you were raped... if he’s the father of your child, then you must have been pregnant before.’

A trace of recognition flits across Grace’s face.

‘He was locked in the stable... Are you sure?’ she asks.

‘Yes, I am. The others beat him and then locked him up. He had no idea what was going on.’

‘Dear God,’ she whispers, and tears start to trickle down her cheeks.

Grace lies back on top of the bed and her mouth opens, but she can’t bring herself to say anything.

‘Do you have a phone?’ Saga asks, patting her hand.

A pane of glass shatters somewhere in the building and an alarm starts to ring in the hall. Saga sees a guard approach along one of the paths.

‘Grace,’ she repeats. ‘I need to know if you have a phone.’

‘We’re not allowed,’ Grace replies.

Something hits the floor hard in a neighbouring room, making the picture on the wall sway.

‘It isn’t visiting time!’ a woman screams through the wall, her voice breaking. ‘It isn’t visiting time!’

Saga leaves the room and is hurrying towards the exit when the heavyset guard comes running around the corner, his keys jangling. He stops when he sees her, breathing hard, then pulls his Taser from his belt.

Without hesitating she heads towards him, yanks a bright-red fire extinguisher off the wall and marches on with long strides.

The guard stares at her, loosens the safety catch of the Taser and starts to walk towards her.

The heavy fire extinguisher is hanging from her hand, and she swings it up into her arms and rushes at him.

‘I need to borrow a phone,’ she says, ramming the base of the extinguisher straight into his chest.

He groans as the air goes out of him, staggers backwards and fumbles for support along the wall as she slams the fire extinguisher into his chest again.

He drops the Taser as he falls, reaching out with his hand and pulling down a picture.

Saga moves with him, kicks low and hits him in the calf, knocking his foot out from under him and sending him crashing to the floor. He hits the wall with his shoulder and lands awkwardly on his backside.

‘What the hell?’ he coughs, staring at her in bewilderment.

Saga drops the fire extinguisher, steps between his legs, grabs his head with both hands, pulls it towards her and hits him in the face with her right knee. His head snaps back, spraying beads of sweat. His heavy body follows and he slumps to the floor, inert. He lies there on his back with his arms out and his mouth bleeding.

‘How hard can it be to lend someone your phone?’ Saga pants between breaths.

DJ comes back in from the rain, walks through the shattered door, yells something, then throws his pistol at the wall. There’s a crash, and parts of the gun fly across the floor and under the furniture.

Rex is lying on his side and can hardly breathe. His stomach is burning with pain and every movement hurts so much that he’s having to fight not to pass out.

‘What were you doing out there?’ he asks between shallow breaths.

He tries to get up, but lurches forward as his legs buckle beneath him, and he falls to his knees. He’s keeping one hand pressed against the bullet wound. His field of vision contracts for a few moments, then he sees that DJ is putting the leather strap with the rabbits’ ears back on again, and coming towards him with a black knife in his hand. The dangling ears sway with each step.

‘Sammy’s only a child,’ Rex pants.

Pain and shock have left him barely able to understand what’s going on. DJ pushes him forward and he puts both hands down to brace his fall, then feels himself being cut across the back.

His arms give way and he sinks to the floor.

‘You can’t,’ he whimpers as DJ forces him up onto his feet again.

Rex has no idea how deep the cut on his back is — his fear that Sammy might be dead overwhelms everything else. DJ pushes Rex in front of him, through the shattered door and out into the rain.

Rex looks around in horror to see if he can see Sammy’s body on the road down towards the church.

The rain is pouring down on him and his clothes quickly become soaked and cold. He’s clutching his stomach with both hands and can feel warm blood seeping out between his fingers.

The heavy gusts of rain sweep across the driveway.

DJ shoves him forward again and he takes a couple more steps before feeling a dizzying tiredness. Everything around him seems to be moving jerkily.

‘Sammy!’ DJ shouts into the rain.

Rex starts crying with relief when he realises that Sammy is OK, that DJ must have lost track of him in the darkness.

‘Sammy!’ DJ roars, brushing the rabbits’ ears from his face. ‘Take a look at your dad now!’

Rex stumbles forward and tries to speak, but only coughs up blood.

‘Call Sammy,’ DJ commands. ‘Tell him to come out. Tell him you love him, and that everything will be OK as long as he...’

Rex stops at the fork in the driveway. He doesn’t want to be part of this any more. DJ walks around and hits him hard in the face with the handle of the dagger. He staggers but manages to keep his balance and raises his chin.

‘Call Sammy,’ DJ says darkly.

‘Never,’ Rex gasps.

The rain is lashing the air, and the pools of water look like they’re boiling. The old wooden church down in the valley is painted dark red, and looks bloodstained among the white crosses in the churchyard.

‘I get it,’ Rex snarls. ‘I get that you think—’

‘Quiet!’ DJ roars.

‘I didn’t rape—’

‘I’ll cut your throat!’ DJ shrieks.

They can see the blue glow of police cars approaching the hotel from the turn-off on the E10 highway.

‘Sammy!’ DJ shouts.

All Rex can think is that Sammy will be OK, as long as he stays hidden.

‘Keep walking!’ DJ says.

Rex looks him in the eye and then sinks to his knees on the path. He’s had enough.

DJ tries to get him to stand up, hits him across the cheek and yells at him to keep walking. Rex doesn’t move. It doesn’t even hurt as much any more. DJ tugs at him and he sways, but makes no attempt to get to his feet.