The rain began as scattered sprinkles in the evening but later turned into a quiet drizzle that lasted for several hours. The downpour didn’t set in until late at night. Anna was already standing at the window when Sofia woke up. The pounding of raindrops was almost deafening.
‘Look at that! I’ve never seen anything like it!’
Sofia came to the window and tried to see though the curtain of water washing across the pane. A small pond had formed in front of the barn.
‘We’d better go check and make sure nothing is flooding,’ she told Anna.
They tried to wake Elin, but she snapped at them and pulled the covers over her head.
‘Whatever,’ Anna said. ‘We’ll go on our own.’
They pulled their raincoats and boots over their nightgowns. It was still pouring when they stepped into the yard, and it limited their view. They could hear a rushing sound by the annexes as if a river were roaring between the buildings. The rain had whipped the barbed wire until it set off the alarm, and the spotlight was sweeping the grounds. But there wasn’t a soul in sight.
‘Where is everyone?’ Anna shouted.
‘I’ll send a message to Bosse,’ Sofia said.
Just then they heard a motorcycle and Benny, who was on watch, came skidding across the yard.
‘Look!’ Anna cried, pointing at the annexes.
A large puddle had formed in the middle of the lawn, right in front of the house. The ground sloped down toward the other buildings, and water was cascading through the cracks under the doors.
‘Go get everyone else!’ Sofia called to Benny. ‘The annexes are flooding!’
Anna waded into the water, which went past her knees.
‘There has to be a drain here somewhere. It must be plugged.’
Sofia stepped down too and shivered as her boots filled with the cold, muddy water.
The staff began to arrive in the yard, but at first they only stood there in bewilderment as Anna and Sofia dug around in the pool. The crowd grew, but Oswald was nowhere to be seen.
‘I found a grate!’ Anna shouted. She reached down and started tugging. Sofia followed her lead and caught hold of the grate, which was blocked by grass, leaves, and trash. They pulled up big chunks of debris and soon the water began to drain in. Bosse, Benny, Sten, and Simon had jumped in to help. The water had stopped pouring into the annexes.
The rain let up as the clouds broke up and the sun peered over the horizon.
It was almost five in the morning.
Anna was the one to open the first door. Sofia was close on her heels. It looked like a hurricane had raged through the room; the floor was completely under water. The rug, which had once been the colour of coral, was soaked and dirty grey. The furniture was strewn all over.
The scene was the same in each of the fifteen rooms that had doors facing the lawn.
The first guests would arrive in ten days.
*
The veins on Oswald’s forehead were bulging and spittle flew as he screamed. He had already thrown the paperweight, all his pens, and a notebook at them. At first, his rage had been directed at no one in particular. He just lashed out and called them idiots, incompetents, and a slew of other unpleasant insults. But now his eyes were nailed to Bosse, who had dared to open his mouth.
‘We can remove the water with a shop vac,’ he’d said. ‘And then we just have to clean up the rooms.’
‘“Just?”’ Oswald roared. ‘So you think this is a minor issue? Have you seen this shit? Have you even been inside all the rooms?’
‘No, I mean . . . I’ve seen a few, and —’
That was all it took. Oswald walked over, grabbed Bosse by the collar, and pulled his face close. He braced his arms against Bosse’s chest and knocked him backwards with one leg even as he let go. Bosse landed on his behind, then hit his head on the marble floor with a thud. At first he seemed to have lost consciousness; he lay perfectly still with his eyes closed for a few seconds. But then he came to, opened his eyes, and stared in terror at Oswald, who was standing over him, legs planted wide. Oswald sank to his knees and straddled Bosse’s chest. He put him in a stranglehold and pressed hard. A horrid gurgle came from Bosse’s throat, but Oswald didn’t stop.
Have to put an end to this, have to . . .
‘I have a suggestion!’ Sofia called out.
Oswald was startled and loosened his grip on Bosse’s throat. He hurriedly stood up; for a moment he looked confused. He adjusted his clothes while Bosse lay gasping for breath. But the confusion in Oswald’s eyes quickly vanished and rage returned anew.
‘Did you see how that bastard looked at me? Did you see that disgusting sneer?’
No one answered, but most of them nodded.
‘Look at those fucking fish eyes. There’s no life in him.’
Since no one had spoken yet, Bosse mumbled a faint ‘I understand, sir’ from the floor, which only made the mood more stressful and uncomfortable.
‘What kind of suggestion?’ Oswald asked, turning to Sofia, back to his usual arrogant self.
‘We can divide up into different teams. One team can handle the shop vacs and —’
‘Shut up! I don’t even want to hear it. These idiots will have to fix it.’
He pointed at the small group in front of him: Anna, Corinne, Krister, and Joel, the unit in charge of the annexes.
It struck Sofia, as she stood there, that someone else was going to die. Someone was next in line after Benjamin. It might not happen that day or the next, but it would happen again. And then it occurred to her that perhaps that was exactly the way Oswald wanted it. That he got joy out of the chaos, the crises, and the moments he lashed out at them, took things out on them. It was a peculiar thought, but it stuck with her.
Bosse slowly got up off the floor. He tried to look unaffected, but his hair was pointing in all directions, his shirt had become untucked, and his eyes were red.
He’s a wreck, Sofia thought. I can’t even look at him, because all I see is myself in a week, a month . . . because that is exactly what I’ll look like if I don’t get out of here soon.
‘Give me my Dictaphone!’ Oswald directed Sofia. She fumbled through his desk drawer and found it. She turned it on and handed it to him, and he began to list the so-called Consequences for what had happened in the annexes.
‘That goes for you too,’ Oswald told Bosse when he was finished. ‘You have no control over the staff around here.’
Sofia couldn’t stop herself — the injustice was pounding in her head until it felt like her temples would burst.
‘Sir, I don’t want to contradict you, but Anna was the one who discovered the blockage. And the guests will be here soon, and Anna takes care of everything in the annexes: the organic food, the rooms, the gym — the whole program.’
Oswald’s laugh was wild and shrill.
‘The program? Are you really that stupid? Do you think this has anything to do with the program? The food, sleep, all of that crap? People just like that stuff. Don’t you understand that the theses are the important thing here? The theses!’
His open palm struck the desk with a bang.
‘Fine. Anna won’t be punished. But she will clean up this shit, and you will help her, just for talking back.’
She noticed his pinkie finger trembling slightly and hoped he’d hurt it when he attacked Bosse.
‘What the hell are you staring at?’ he said, and she was startled to find that his eyes were fixed on her.
*
She stood observing the new punishment camp, watching the pale, half-naked bodies that had gathered around the garden hose. They used it to shower. Corinne was there with the guys, naked aside from her bra and panties. Those were the rules. Their shelter, a small military tent that sagged in the middle, swayed with the wind. While they showered, their clothes hung from a rope strung between two trees.
This was meant to be the living quarters for the absolute scum, the lowest ranks in Penance. It was the last step before you were simply dumped in the sound, gone forever. But of course that wasn’t accurate. He would always find something worse, something more degrading. Their tent had been erected behind a grove of trees so no one would have to look at them. They weren’t allowed food or water from the property. Only the garden hose. Oswald had said they had to do their business in chamber pots, because they weren’t allowed to use the toilets in the manor house. If they wanted any food they had to beg and plead with Simon, and if they were given any vegetables they had to eat them raw, because under no circumstances were they allowed to set foot in the kitchen or light any fires. And if there weren’t any vegetables, they could just eat the scraps from the staff meals.
Besides Corinne, the group was made up of Bosse, Joel, and Krister. Sten, their guard, hung around by a tree, staring at them. At Corinne’s body especially. Their first job would be to transform the annexes back into a palace before the guests arrived. And they had to pay for the damages from their own funds. Those who had any funds, at least. The others found themselves in debt.
Her pager vibrated.
Report to the office immediately.
It was eight-thirty, and she didn’t want to see Oswald again that evening. But there was no room for a misstep now. The slightest blunder, and she too would be showering in bra and panties under the garden hose.
*
When she opened the door, the office appeared to be empty. He wasn’t at his desk, and the lights were out. She took a few steps in and suddenly he was on her. He had been standing behind the door. He flung himself at her, grabbing her shoulders and shoving her forward so hard she hit her head on the wall. His body flew at her from behind; he grabbed her wrists, pinned her arms to the wall above her head, and pressed so hard against her that at last she was stretched and flattened and helpless before him. Everything about him was hard; he was so insane with fury that his breathing came in sharp blasts. Something burned her neck and she realized he was biting and nibbling at her. One of his hands was under her blazer, and he yanked at her blouse until the buttons bounced off the marble floor. He grabbed her breast and squeezed so hard she cried out. Fear had nearly paralysed her and tears burned her eyes, but all she could think was that she had better not pee herself. She screamed — not a drawn-out call for help, but a short screech of frustration, and he let go.
Took a few steps back.
His voice was rough and hoarse.
‘You are a cheeky, shameless slut, and you are going to beg forgiveness for talking back in front of those other idiots. Get down on your knees.’
There was a new, violent undertone to his voice.
It was like she was riveted to the wall; she couldn’t move. The air was being sucked out of her, her lungs collapsing.
‘I said, get down on your knees!’
She slowly turned around and sank to her knees before him. She couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact, so she stared at the floor.
At that moment, there was nothing she wanted more than to tell him to go to hell.
Her lips formed the words, but no sound escaped.
Deep inside, a voice warned her that he would smash her to bits if she disobeyed him right now.
She swallowed the words and closed her mouth.
Aware that she had just crossed the line of his patience, she decided that she had to apologize.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.
‘Look me in the eye!’ he shouted.
She looked up. His eyes were wild.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered again.
‘Louder! I can’t hear you.’
‘I’m sorry!’ she cried.
‘Good. Now get out of here. Before I give you a real thrashing.’
She stood up, adjusted her skirt, which had slid up, pulled down her blazer, and did up a few of its buttons to hide her ruined shirt.
But he blocked her way as she started for the door.
‘Come to work like an ordinary person tomorrow. Who is in charge around here?’
‘You are, sir.’
‘That’s right. Now get out of here.’
She cried all the way down to her dormitory, but clenched her teeth so no one would hear.
The room was empty. She sat down on her bed and cried a while longer. Regret surged through her. She had been so close to making everything end differently, but she hadn’t dared to take the chance. And she hated herself for it. Rage welled up in her chest — she pounded the bedspread with her fists, then got up and kicked the bureau until her toes hurt. She hated herself for giving in. Hated his hard body, his strong hands, his fucking mouth that spouted insults, his goddamn aftershave. Hate, hate, hate.
Pull yourself together, Bauman, fucking get it together.
She tore off her blazer and blouse and tossed them in the wastebasket.
Her chest still ached. The weight of his body seemed to linger against her back, and the marks left by his teeth burned on her neck. As she rooted around in a drawer to find a shirt, she noticed the pen and notebook she’d left there. Once dressed, she picked them up and sat down on the bed to sketch. She drew a stick figure, a horned devil with thick eyebrows and an evil smile.
She ripped the drawing from the pad, folded it, and stuck it in her pocket, then ran down the stairs and out to the lawn. No one was there, so she slipped around the corner of the house and into the garage.
She spotted his favourite motorcycle almost immediately. It was parked in one corner, freshly polished and gleaming. Taking the pocketknife out, she approached the bike. For a second she hesitated, but then she stabbed the blade right into the seat and made a long cut. The leather made a very satisfying sound as the knife sliced through it. She took out her sketch of the devil and stuffed it into the slit.
On her way back, she stopped at the greenhouse.
She stayed for a long time, concocting a plan with Simon.
*
As she stepped into the dormitory, her doubt returned. It rumbled into her head like a steamroller, squashing all the courage she had gathered during the evening. She wondered how anyone could be so certain of something and then begin to doubt again. Benjamin is dead, she thought. Oswald is going to end up killing Elvira soon, he almost strangled Bosse today, and next time he gets angry he’s going to rape me. What will happen if he discovers me with a backpack full of his secrets?
Soon Elin and Anna would return and all she could do was turn out the lights and pretend everything was normal. She went to the bathroom and stared at her own reflection, trying to bring life into the frightened eyes that peered back at her. It was now or never — she had to escape, even if fear was to be her constant companion.
She sneaked out into the corridor and down the stairs and found the main electrical switch.
When she peeked out the small window in the corridor, she could see the ladder Simon had placed against the wall. She counted the steps from the switch to her room and from the door to her bed. She pulled out her backpack and wound a windproof jacket around it, then stuffed the bundle back under the bed. A pair of sneakers went next to the bundle, the slip-on kind — there would be no time to tie laces. The dull sound of voices came from outside the door, so she quickly crawled under the covers and closed her eyes.
Everything was in place.
A little over an hour left.
She began to count the seconds.
I peer over his shoulder and out the window.
The sun is setting. It’s as though my entire future is bathing in the sunset.
I can’t concentrate on all these numbers and all his blather.
‘It seems that the insurance company won’t cover the loss of the villa,’ he says. ‘After all, it was arson.’
I nod. I don’t care — I’ll just sell the lot and get rid of the whole thing.
‘But even so, you’ll have immense resources,’ he continues. ‘And investments, of course. If you’d like me to explain —’
I hold up my hand.
‘No, that’s fine. I’m not going to remain here, as you can understand. There’s too much to remind me of . . .’
He nods.
‘So you’ll go to Sweden?’
‘Yes, I think so. I’m considering returning to my studies up there.’
He starts in again.
About investing money, how best to manage all the assets.
But I only listen with half an ear. I’m thinking about how important I am going to be for humanity.
The only person who has discovered the truth all on his own.
The truth truth that I discovered under the water at Devil’s Rock.
The truth about the darkness in the tiny closet on the ferry.
All these truths I have lived. I think of them and draw strength from them. That’s right, the truth about strength — the most important of all.
The sun has almost vanished below the horizon. Yet my adventure only begins now. And there’s one thing I know for certain.
Those who cross my path. Those I take on.
They will never be the same again.