It explained why she couldn’t see out of her left eye; it was swollen shut.And it explained the pain in her wrist, which was most likely broken.They must have drugged her to keep her unconscious while they decided their next move.She was probably lucky to still be alive.
Mårten removed the duct tape as gently as he could, but it was nevertheless excruciating is it lifted a layer of skin from around her mouth.
“Mårten.”His name came out more of a croak than a word.
“I’m sorry,” he said.“I’m so sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”In the dim light she could see his face, a severe mask of self-incrimination.He was working on the knots binding her wrists now, and when he tugged hard on the rope, she let out an involuntary gasp of pain.
“Are you hurt?”he demanded.
She nodded and said, “I’m not sure, but it might be broken.”
“Fuck!I really am gonna kill that guy,” Mårten muttered as he took more care with the knots.He helped her to her feet, one arm around her shoulder to keep her steady.Which was a good thing, because she swayed dangerously as the room swirled about her.Her legs felt like they were made of lead, pins and needles shooting upward as the blood released from where the ropes had been tied too tight.“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he said, his lips close to her ear.“Can you take a step for me?”
Cradling her broken arm close to her body, she forced herself to take one tentative, clumsy step, then another, conscious of the fact that Paige or Nathan could appear at any second.“I’m good,” she said from between gritted teeth.“Let’s get out of here.”Leaning heavily on Mårten, she made it out of the room, but she was so slow.She knew they were running out of time.They turned left down the hallway, her shuffling steps loud in the muted silence of the old house.She was aware that she could no longer hear Paige and Nathan arguing.Everything had gone deathly quiet outside.If they’d stopped arguing…Summer tried to quicken her pace, but her legs were sluggish to respond.They were just as battered and bruised as the rest of her body.
“I picked the lock and got in through the rear door,” Mårten explained, and Summer could just make out a door standing ajar at the end of the hallway.Outside was freedom.The idea spurred her on, and she increased her hobbling pace to a shambling run, Mårten holding her by the uninjured side.
A guttural scream echoed down the hallway.Summer stopped and turned instinctively toward that terrible sound.
“Fuck.”Mårten was tugging on her arm.Then he was behind her, propelling her forward, supporting her by the waist, almost carrying her.
“That sounded like Paige,” she said, her mind still caught up in wanting to figure out what was going on outside.Had Nathan attacked Paige?Should they help her?But by then Mårten had half-carried her to the threshold of the door.He shoved it all the way open with one foot, and blessed cool air hit Summer in the face.Freedom.They were safe.
That thought was extinguished when there was a roar of rage from behind, so primal it could’ve come from a wild animal.Then pounding footsteps echoed down the hallway.Mårten thrust her outside onto the damp grass.
“Run,” he screamed.
Summer collapsed to the ground.The shock of the fall jostling her arm so that pain shot up into her shoulder.It took her a few seconds to recover and then scrabble around in the dirt on her knees so she was facing the right way.
Mårten’s broad back filled the doorway as he turned to face the oncoming threat.“Stay back,” he warned.“I’m police, and I will shoot you if I have to.”
Nathan’s only reply was to yell an unintelligible stream of words as he continued to pound down the hallway.
For the first time, Summer noticed Mårten was carrying a weapon strapped in a holster around his waist.He had his right hand on the handle of the gun, and even as she watched, he drew it.But then her view was blocked by his body, so she couldn’t see what was happening.She got to her feet and backed away, trying to discover what was going on, unsure what to do next.Should she help him?But she had no idea what to do.One thing was sure; she wasn’t running anywhere.Not without Mårten.
There was a shout, and the gun went off.Once.Twice.
And then Mårten was stumbling backward, falling on the ground right where Summer had been kneeling only seconds before, his weapon flying out of his hands.A howling Nathan landed on top of him, flailing wildly with a large knife in one hand, trying to stab Mårten.
Summer screamed.The sight of the blade flashing again and again toward Mårten had her frozen to the spot.
Memories of the night Marco died spiraled through her head, drawing her down into their depths.
The muggers had attacked them on a dark street while they’d been walking home from the movies late one night.They’d accosted them, stabbed Marco before she even had time to react, then stolen her bag as she fell to the pavement beside Marco, begging him to keep breathing.That they’d just killed a person was of no concern to the thugs.Perhaps they were high on drugs.The sad thing was, it’d all been for nothing.Summer had less than $20 in her purse, which she would’ve gladly given them if they’d just asked.And the police never caught the criminals.They’d done a most perfunctory investigation, as if Marco’s life was unimportant.A Latino boy and his seventeen-year-old girlfriend weren’t near the top of their lists of priorities, and gang violence was rife in a city of that size.
Another wild grunt from Nathan pulled her back to the present.She wasn’t on the streets of San Jose.She was in the wilds of Sweden, and Mårten was here trying to protect her; fighting for his life.And hers.
Mårten was doing everything in his power to ward off Nathan’s strikes, his training helping him to block each blow, keeping the knife away from his face, grunting with the effort of protecting himself.But eventually Nathan was bound to land a strike.
She needed to help him.She hadn’t been able to help Marco.But maybe she could change the outcome today.Nathan seemed to have forgotten that Summer was there.Maybe he didn’t see her as a threat, or maybe he was just so blinded by his bloodlust that all he could see was Mårten.Whatever it was, it gave her an opportunity.
The gun?Where had the gun gone?She finally spotted it, a black shape on a patch of gravel a few feet from where the men were wrestling.Half-stumbling, half-crawling, she reached it and picked it up with her good hand.Checked that it was loaded, and that the safety was off.Then she turned toward the fighting men and raised the weapon.
Nathan was still on top of Mårten, who was lying on the ground defending himself as best he could.She took aim at Nathan’s torso.Summer knew guns.She trained every few months at a local gun range.After Marco’s death, she’d been determined never to be a victim again.So she learned how to use a gun, just in case.Kept her skills up-to-date.This would be a difficult shot, however.She was holding it one-handed, her broken left arm useless.What if the bullet went wide and hit Mårten instead?
“Nathan,” she said in a strong, clear voice.“Stop, or I’ll shoot.”
But it was as if Nathan hadn’t heard her.He was in a frenzy, desperate to attack Mårten, and he never even looked up.
