A dog was barking nearby.
Back at the manor, the alarm was blaring.
I cannot pass out, I can’t!
But her legs gave way; she was sapped of energy.
The man on the path in front of her stood perfectly still.
The din of the alarm blended with the pattering of the rain and the barking, which had grown more frantic. Spotlights swept the treetops. The cacophony of sounds and images faded as she nearly lost consciousness.
She sank into a crouch and pressed both hands to the path to steady herself.
Do not pass out.
The shower of sparks behind her eyelids died down.
Her vision began to return: the faint outlines of gravel on the path, her shoes.
Her pulse slowed and a mild wave of strength returned to her body.
Then came hands on her shoulders, supporting her, trying to hold her up.
‘What’s the matter?’
She looked up at him, but his face was too blurry.
A dog growled behind him.
‘Sofia! It is Sofia, isn’t it?’
The face came into focus. A kind face. Edwin Björk.
The words caught in her throat, and all that came from her mouth was a disturbing hacking sound.
He hooked his hands under her arms and helped her stand.
‘What happened?’
Her tongue untied itself and the words came out in bursts.
‘Please, help me, you have to help me! They’re after me!’
Björk looked at her in astonishment.
‘Of course I’ll help you. Do you mean the cult? Are they chasing you?’
He didn’t even wait for an answer — he just took her arm and led her down the path.
‘Can you manage to walk a short way?’
She nodded.
‘My house isn’t far at all. I’m sorry I scared you. Just out with the dog.’
‘Do you live here? In the middle of the woods?’
‘Yep, in a lovely old cottage.’
Her heart was still beating so hard that she could hear the rush in her ears, and it was hard to hear what he said. She breathed through her mouth and each inhalation burned her lungs.
‘You can explain when we get inside,’ he said. ‘We’ll put on some coffee and have a chat.’
He led her down the narrowest of paths, and she caught sight of the little cottage, which was on a rise in a grove of trees. Warm light glowed from a single window.
On the way up the slope, she heard them — scattered voices and calls from back in the woods. Twigs snapping. And when she turned around, she saw beams of lights sweeping the trees.
‘We have to hurry,’ she said, running the last little bit. Björk kept up, but she reached the door before he did. She stumbled on the second to last step and grabbed for the door, but at the same time it opened from the inside and she almost fell straight into the arms of a surprised woman. Björk stepped in and pulled the door closed. The woman appeared to be in her sixties, with grey hair that fell to her waist, and she was wearing a nightgown. The small dog bounced around, jumping up at her as she studied Sofia curiously.
‘This is my wife Elsa,’ said Björk. ‘Elsa, this is Sofia. She’s escaped the devilry up at the manor, and now we need to help her.’
*
They drank coffee at the little kitchen table. She found herself in a peculiar rapture-like state.
The small cottage was like a temple, a sanctuary where she was safe and hidden from what had to be a thorough search for her outside. It was so warm in the room that she was sweating. Her rain-soaked clothes were in the dryer and Elsa Björk had given her a nightgown and robe to wear in the meantime.
‘I’m sure they’ll come looking for you on the ferry tomorrow,’ Edwin said. ‘But we’ll go down around seven so you can hide in the wheelhouse.’
‘Excuse me for asking,’ Elsa said, ‘but why can’t you just tell them to get lost if they show up? Edwin will be there. They can’t attack you, can they?’
Sofia thought for a moment. There was so much to consider. The contents of her backpack. Oswald and Östling. Elvira in the attic. Suddenly the cottage didn’t feel as cosy anymore and she wondered how long it would take for Oswald to realize she had copied the files and stolen his Dictaphone.
‘It’s more complicated than that,’ she said. ‘Franz Oswald has contacts, and I’d really like to get a head start so no one can follow me.’
‘But how will she get off the ferry without anyone seeing her?’ Elsa asked Edwin.
‘I’ll have to keep an eye out,’ he replied. ‘Make sure that anyone who’s tailing her gets off the boat before Sofia does. We’ll work it out somehow. Do you think they’ll get off on the mainland and search for you there, Sofia?’
‘I’m not sure. But the ferry doesn’t return to the island for hours, and I’m sure they won’t just stay on the boat.’
‘Good point. So I’ll keep an eye on things, and when the coast is clear you can sneak out and disappear into the crowds on the quay. But for now, can’t you tell us about what’s been going on up at the manor?’
Sofia was hesitant. Björk would go crazy and call the police straight away if she mentioned Oswald and Elvira.
‘Franz Oswald, the man who owns the place, has almost lost his mind,’ she said. ‘He deals out all sorts of punishment, and, well, maybe you’ve seen the electric fence he put up around the property.’
Björk nodded, encouraging her to go on.
‘You’ve probably also heard about the death up at Devil’s Rock. He was my boyfriend, the guy who jumped, and he was forced to do it. As punishment. That was the last straw for me.’
Björk lost his temper. ‘Good heavens! This is ridiculous. I knew he was up to some sort of devilry up there.’
‘Yes, but I’m going to report him to the police. I took some evidence with me.’
‘So we just have to sit here and wait?’
‘Yes, more or less. But I promise to contact you as soon as I can.’
‘Well, there you have it,’ Edwin said, turning to Elsa. ‘I’ve always said that place is cursed, and now it’s worse than ever. The whole bloody thing ought to be torn down. Levelled to the ground.’
Elsa shook her head.
‘I don’t believe in curses, but it certainly is odd. I mean, how he just had to have the manor for his ridiculous cult. He came here, this superior ass, and offered an indecent amount of money for the place. We’ve always thought there was something fishy about it.’
‘But it was nice at first,’ Sofia hurried to say. ‘He put together a good operation with organic gardens and the farm and everything. It was really great, actually. But then —’
‘It always starts out just fine,’ Edwin interrupted her. ‘That’s how they lure you in. But then they get delusions of grandeur and it becomes hellish. I’ve read about it . . .’
‘Stop that now,’ Elsa said. ‘Can’t you see Sofia is already shaken? She needs to get some sleep.’
Edwin turned to Sofia. ‘Yes, yes, but there’s just one more thing I want to say. If we don’t hear from you in a few days, we’re going to the police. We will.’
‘Okay, please do. It’s nice to know you will. But I do promise to call.’
Elsa rose and left the kitchen. Sofia could hear her turning off the dryer and opening some cabinets in the next room. Edwin gazed out the window with a distant, anxious expression on his face.
‘Sofia, come here!’ Elsa called. ‘You can sleep on our pull-out sofa. It’s not much, but it’s all we have.’
‘It’ll be perfect. I was planning to sleep under the tarp on the ferry.’
*
The house was so quiet once they had gone to bed. The rain had stopped and all she could hear was the rustle of the trees in the wind. The dog lay in a small bed on the floor beside her, whimpering now and then. It must have been dreaming.
She reached for the backpack, which she’d placed next to the sofa. Opening each compartment, she reassured herself that everything was there: the thumb drive, the Dictaphone, the phone numbers she’d received from various people on the island. She thought about hiding it all in the Björks’ house, but then she would have nothing. It would be her word against that of fifty others at ViaTerra, and Wilgot Östling with his police allies.
Sleep was not in the cards for her that night, she knew it already. It wasn’t the coffee keeping her awake, it was her mind. Mostly she was afraid that she would wake up and discover she was back in the dormitory. That her escape had been nothing but a dream. Then she thought of Elvira and prayed once more that Oswald wouldn’t kill her. She fell into a light slumber just after her watch read 4:55. But when Elsa Björk woke her at six-thirty, she wasn’t at all tired, only excited and nervous.
‘Breakfast is ready,’ said Elsa. ‘And Edwin has been lying awake most of the night cursing the cult. We’re so worried for your sake.’
‘It’s going to be okay,’ Sofia said, mostly to reassure Elsa.
There was a tiny nook in the wheelhouse, just under the spot where Edwin stood when he piloted the ferry. He had brought a pile of blankets and a sleeping bag to make it more comfortable. Elsa had filled Sofia’s thermos with coffee and made a heap of sandwiches to put in her backpack.
The morning was still and foggy. She had felt watched all the way down to the ferry, and found herself peering over her shoulder again and again. Her imagination told her there were shadows and figures behind the trees and bushes. Her initial sense of freedom had given way to fear, which had grown into mild paranoia.
‘You can lie in here,’ Edwin said. ‘I’ll have to keep you entertained with jokes and ghost stories.’
‘I’d prefer jokes, and you’ll have to keep a lookout too. They’ll almost definitely be wearing their uniforms, grey suits. They’re not allowed to go anywhere without them. So they should stick out.’
‘Like Mormons, sort of?’
‘Right, exactly.’
The little cubby was damp and smelled like diesel and seaweed, overlaid with a sour odour from a nearby pair of boots. She lay down on the sleeping bag with several blankets over her.
‘Okay, the passengers are starting to arrive,’ Edwin said.
She could hear and feel the faint thumps as cars drove onto the deck, and then came the sound of voices and stomping feet. Soon enough Edwin was busy steering the ferry, so he was silent. She could tell how tired she was — she’d hardly gotten a wink, and now that the tension had abated a little and the ferry engine was droning so soothingly, she felt drowsy. She sank into a warm torpor and almost fell asleep. But then Björk’s voice broke through the fog.
He was speaking with someone. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Yes, perhaps. We’re looking for a friend.’
She recognized the voice immediately, and suddenly she was wide awake. Her blood ran cold: it was Benny.
‘We were supposed to meet here and take the ferry over,’ came another familiar voice.
Sten! Benny and Sten are on the ferry, looking for me!
It couldn’t get any worse — they were big and dumb and strong, and they wouldn’t hesitate to use force if they thought it was necessary. Furthermore, they were standing dangerously close to her. She could hear their feet scraping against the steel floor. Their voices were suddenly perfectly clear.
‘I see,’ came Björk’s voice. ‘Who are you looking for?’
‘A girl, short, thin, with long, dark hair. Frizzy, too. Probably wearing jeans and a hoodie.’
‘I haven’t seen her,’ Björk said. ‘But as you can see, I’m busy with the ferry.’
‘It’s pretty urgent that we get hold of her,’ Benny said.
‘I haven’t seen her. She must have changed her mind. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . ‘
But they weren’t about to give up.
‘Is there any sort of hiding place on this ferry, I mean, somewhere where no one would see you?’
‘No, there certainly isn’t. It’s a small ferry. Guys, it’s too bad you can’t find your friend, but I need to concentrate on piloting the ferry.’
She held her breath and lay still.
‘Okay, but if you see her . . .’
‘I’ll tell her you’re looking for her. But now you’ll have to leave me alone.’
Steps died away across the steel floor. She still didn’t dare move.
‘They weren’t wearing suits,’ she heard Edwin’s voice at last. ‘Just normal clothes. What stubborn, pushy rascals.’
At first she was afraid to speak.
‘They can’t hear you. And I don’t think they’ll be back.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Thanks for handling it so well.’
‘No problem, but I’m going to try to keep my mouth shut for this last bit. So it doesn’t look like I’m talking to myself.’
*
She lay in the darkness for nearly an hour, listening to the lapping waves, the ferry engine, and Edwin’s persistent whistling. Reality was still sinking in: she really had made it over the wall. She really was close to freedom; it was within reach. She felt her lips turn up in a smile. At the same time she was tormented at the thought of what might happen when they reached the harbour. She tried to figure out why Oswald had sent Benny and Sten out in civilian clothes. It occurred to her that she had no real plan. She had planned the escape itself, but she had no idea how she would get home or what she would tell her parents or the police. The only thing that mattered was getting over that damn wall. She’d thought everything would just work itself out after that.
The ferry swayed and lurched as it docked, and she could hear a faint buzz from the harbour.
‘I’ll keep my eye on them,’ Edwin said. ‘Then we’ll decide which way you should go. Oh, curse it! They’re waiting for all the passengers to disembark, staring them up and down. As if you would suddenly show up there. What idiots!’
Sofia crawled out of the cubby and sat on the floor at Edwin’s feet.
‘They’re moving now,’ he reported. ‘Yes indeed. They’re heading for the cafés over by the guest marina. So you can run the other direction, toward the bus terminal. You can get up now.’
She stretched out her stiff, sore limbs and peered over Edwin’s shoulder.
Two figures had separated from the crowd and were striding toward the cafés and outdoor seating. She couldn’t imagine what they would do there — eat lunch maybe — but it didn’t matter. This was her chance. She grabbed her backpack, hugged Edwin and thanked him, and ran down the pier and onto the quay.
She looked around one last time and vanished into the crowd.