Ларс Кеплер - The Rabbit Hunter

‘Great,’ Sammy says without looking.

Rex takes out his binoculars and tries to figure out the borders of the zone. He catches sight of Lawrence further down. Rex adjusts the focus and looks at him through the binoculars. His bearded face is wary, his eyes narrow. He’s creeping through the undergrowth in the valley, then raises his rifle, stands absolutely still, lowers the gun without firing, and walks on. Rex follows him through the binoculars until he disappears between the trees.

‘Let’s go higher up,’ Rex says.

They head up the side of the fell. The ground is dry, and the low birches are more sparse.

‘Will you help me with the burgers later?’ Rex asks.

Sammy stares ahead sullenly without answering. They keep walking but stop when they see three reindeer up ahead. The animals are standing between a clump of low trees and some large rocks.

They creep closer, wind in their faces, as they move around an almost black rock-face.

Rex crouches down, raises his rifle and looks at the stag through the sights.

The reindeer lifts his head with its big antlers, looks out across the tundra, sniffs and twitches its ears, and stands absolutely still for a few seconds before it continues eating. It moves forward slowly as it grazes.

Suddenly Rex has the perfect line of fire. It’s a magnificent reindeer, a large bull with a pelt like bronze and a milk-white chest.

The crosshairs quiver over its heart, but Rex has no intention of putting his finger anywhere near the trigger.

‘Hope you find a hole in the fence,’ he whispers, and watches the stag raise its head again.

Its ears twitch nervously.

There’s a snap as Sammy steps on a branch behind Rex. The animal reacts instantly and rushes away down towards the edge of the trees.

Rex lowers the rifle and meets Sammy’s contrary stare, but instead of being annoyed he smiles.

‘I wasn’t going to shoot,’ he says.

Sammy shrugs and they walk up the slope through the meadow grass. They find steaming reindeer droppings between some alpine flowers and forget-me-nots. The sky is cloudy above the summit of Lulip Guokkil and the wind is noticeably colder.

‘Bad weather on the way,’ Rex says.

They clamber upward until the ground flattens out and they find themselves on a sort of heath that stretches off towards the dark, steep mountainside.

‘Can you carry the rifle for a while? I just...’

‘I don’t want to,’ Sammy snaps.

‘You don’t have to be mad at me.’

‘Am I being boring now? Too bitchy for your liking?’

Rex doesn’t respond, just points ahead and heads off along a track that leads through thorny bushes and scrub.

He thinks about his alcoholism, all the things he’s ruined, and becomes increasingly convinced that he will never win back Sammy’s trust. But perhaps they can meet up from time to time in a restaurant somewhere, just so he can hear how Sammy’s doing, just so he can ask if there’s anything he can do to help.

The wind is getting colder. Dry leaves come loose from the bushes and blow away.‘We’ll chargrill the burgers,’ he says. ‘Cut the crusts off the sourdough, add some slices of Vesterhav cheese, some Stokes ketchup, Dijon mustard... tons of rocket, two slices of bacon... pickles and dressing on the side...’

As he passes the biggest rocky outcrop, Rex feels the first drops of rain. The gusting wind makes the grass tremble, as if an invisible animal were running through it.

‘And we’ll fry thin strips of potato in olive oil,’ he goes on. ‘Black pepper, lots of flaked salt...’

Rex falls silent when he sees a foaming white stream tumbling down the mountainside up ahead. He can’t recall having seen it on the map, and turns to ask Sammy, but his son isn’t there.

‘Sammy?’ he says in a loud voice.

He starts to retrace his steps around the cliff, and sees the empty track running back across the plateau. The low trees and bushes are shaking in the wind.

‘Sammy?’ he calls. ‘Sammy!’

He starts to walk faster, looking out across the landscape. Heavy rain is falling on the southern side of Lulip Guokkil, it looks like a curtain of steel rods. The storm will soon be here. Rex hurries back along the sloping mountainside. Further up small stones come loose and roll towards him.

‘Sammy?’

Rex scans the terrain, then steps off the path and starts climbing the steep slope. He goes as fast as he can. He’s quickly out of breath and he can feel the lactic acid in his thigh muscles. He’s sweating, and wipes his face as he follows a dry stream up the hill, slipping on a rock.

His progress is hindered by the thorny undergrowth. As he moves off to one side, he thinks he sees someone disappear behind a rock up above.

Rex pushes through a gap in the bushes. He’s keeping his face down, but still scratches his cheek, and the rifle over his shoulder gets caught on the tangle of branches, so he leaves it behind. It hangs there swaying as he stumbles out and falls forward.

Then he catches sight of James in the distance, up above, between two large rocky crags. Suddenly James turns his rifle towards him and takes aim.

Rex stands up and straightens his back, peering at James, but he’s having trouble seeing what he’s doing from this distance. Light glints off his binoculars and Rex raises his hand to wave.

The barrel of the rifle flares yellow and then he hears the bang.

Rex lurches as he hears the echo bounce off the mountainside. The bushes behind him rustle and a couple of branches break and fall to the ground with a heavy thud.

Up above he sees James running in a crouch, then kneel and take aim again.

Rex turns and sees the large stag trying to get up. Blood is gushing from its chest and it’s rapidly losing strength. It falls sideways into the bushes, kicks its legs and catches its antlers on the thickest branches, making its neck twist in an unnatural way.

The reindeer stag snorts and bellows, tensing its neck as it tries to stand. Another shot rings out and the large head is thrown backwards, and its body slowly slumps to the ground, still twitching.

James runs down the slope towards Rex and the stag, sending loose stones rolling downhill.

‘What the hell are you playing at?’ Rex shouts. ‘Are you out of your fucking mind?’

He can hear the anger in his voice but can’t help himself. James stops, panting for breath. His eyes are wide and his top lip is shiny with sweat.

‘Are you crazy?’ Rex goes on.

‘I shot a reindeer,’ James says through clenched teeth.

‘My son could have been standing there!’ Rex shouts, throwing his hand out.

‘You’re in my zone,’ James says, unconcerned.

A strong wind blows in, bringing the heavy rain. It sweeps across the birch trees and the drops start to splatter the slope around them.

Just as the rain starts to pour they hear a whip-crack from the sky.

The two men turn around.

High above the ground a red emergency flare glints through the downpour. It drifts off to one side, then falls slowly, disappearing from view as if sinking into a stormy sea.

The storm is right above them, and the wind is gusting hard, driving the rain into their eyes.

When they reach the place the flare went off, Rex finds his son. He’s sitting huddled against a tree-trunk with DJ. Their green hunting outfits are drenched and rain is dripping down their faces.

‘Sammy?’ Rex cries, running over to him. ‘What happened? You just disappeared, and I—’

‘OK, listen,’ DJ says, standing up. Water is dripping from his blond beard onto his jacket, and his pale blue eyes are bloodshot. ‘There’s been an accident. Kent is dead. He fell into the canyon...’