Bubble(37)

Are you coming, or what? Jeff took a step closer.

HP leaned forward and put his hands on his knees.

Wait a moment, he muttered, trying to sound exhausted, which wasnt exactly difficult. His pulse had been racing for a while and it felt like the air was getting harder to breathe.

He needed to buy himself some time, get a few moments to think.

They had been veering left the whole way, and had been going down, which meant that the underground station he could hear had to be Slussen.

So those huts up ahead had to be right underneath  …

Were going to meet the Source, arent we? he said, looking up.

Neither of the others had much of a poker face.

Come on, Jeff said, taking another step closer.

HP didnt move.

Your source is called Erman. I met him a long time ago. Back then he was hiding out in the bush and claiming to have been thrown out of the Game.

He spat a gob of saliva onto the floor of the tunnel.

Ermans working for the Game Master. I saw them together just a few hours ago with the cops. And before that I saw him go down in the lift that comes out over there.

He gestured towards the huts.

Jeff tried to say something but HP ignored him. Instead he stared straight at Nora, trying to catch her eye.

This whole thing is a trap, Nora  …  he said as calmly as he could. At best the Source has sold you out, getting you to run errands for the Game  …

She didnt respond, but a little frown had appeared above her nose.

 …  or else youve been working for the Game Master all along.

He couldnt quite make out the expression on Noras face, but he was still pretty convinced that she was just as disconcerted as he was. But right now that really didnt matter.

Either way, the Games been trying to find me. Theyre desperate to get hold of me at any cost. And youre about to deliver me to them, exactly as they want. Dont you get it?

He paused for breath.

Bollocks, Jeff growled. So you expect us to believe that youve met the Source and the Game Master?

He grinned and tilted his head towards Nora.

Weve got a real heavyweight here, eh  … ?

What does he look like?

It took HP a moment to realize that Nora was talking to him.

W-what? Who?

The Game Master, of course, who do you think?

Er, well  …  hes around seventy, well dressed, walks with a stick  …  A typical grey old man  …

He slowly straightened up.

He calls himself Tage Sammer.

And youve met?

HP nodded. Her tone of voice and the expression on her face reinforced his theory. There was no way she was consciously working for the Game.

I even had coffee with him out at the pet cemetery just beyond the Kaknäs Tower. He had a check-patterned flask in a little camping box, typical old man stuff  …

And you seriously expect us to believe that?

Jeff again, but HP ignored him.

It was Nora he had to convince, and not just for the simple reason that he didnt want to be handed over to Erman and the Game Master. He actually wanted her to believe him.

Properly.

Well, what do you say?

He held his arms up towards Nora and fired off his most charming smile.

Youre right, she said, and he noticed Jeff twitch. The Source wants to meet you. Hes waiting down there  …

She gestured over her shoulder, towards the huts.

Hes usually incredibly cautious, but as soon as we told him you were backing out, he wanted to set up a meeting. That has to mean something  …

It just means he wants to get hold of me  … !

Without warning Jeff suddenly grabbed HP by the arm and tried to get him in some sort of police hold.

But HP was ready. He resisted for a fraction of a second, then took aim and spun round to the right.

Just before they collided he raised his left leg and planted his knee hard into Jeffs crown jewels.

The man collapsed like a house of cards, almost taking HP down with him as he fell. But at the last moment HP managed to pull free.

He took a couple of stumbling steps, then regained his balance and started running towards the huts.

Nora stuck out her arms in an attempt to stop him, but the tunnel was wide enough for him to dart past without any problem.

Fifty metres to the huts and lift.

His heart was already pounding in his chest.

Running straight towards danger wasnt exactly the best idea, but he didnt have any other options.
 
 

 

With a bit of luck Erman was hiding in one of the huts not daring to look out.

Thirty metres, and suddenly he could hear steps behind him.

It had to be Nora, Jeff would hardly be in a fit state to run.

HP, stop! she yelled, and he fought the urge to look back.

Twenty metres now.

Fifteen.

His throat was burning, shrinking to the size of a drinking straw.

The footsteps were getting closer.

Ten metres left.

The tunnel narrowed to a path between the huts, and beyond that there was a pale rectangle in the rock-face that had to be the door of the lift.

It was open!

HP, stop!

Her voice was sharper now, and this time he couldnt resist the urge to turn his head.

She was six or seven metres behind him, close, but still further away than he had imagined.

It might just work  …

It was going to work!

The next moment he saw movement from the corner of his eye.

He started turning his head to the front again, and just had time to see the door opening right in front of him.

Then everything went dark.

Is he okay?

Yes, hes coming round  …

He felt something cool and wet over his eyes and forehead.

His head ached, his nose was blocked and he was having to breathe through his mouth.

Long, rattling breaths.

Can you hear me, Henke?

The object over his eyes vanished and he blinked up at the light.

Noras face was floating above him, and for a few moments he felt full of a sense of wellbeing. She was calling him Henke, just like his sister  …

Then suddenly he remembered where he was.

And why!

They must have dragged him inside one of the huts  …

He tried to sit up, pulling his legs towards him to get to his feet.

Easy  …

She was holding onto him, trying to stop him, but without putting much force into it.

The Source  …  he panted. Erman, Ive got to  …

Then he caught sight of him.

He was sitting on a chair a few metres away, leaning forward. Thin, receding hair, with dark-framed glasses, just like the description. Their eyes met and for a few moments HPs brain tried to take in what he was seeing. What it meant.

But it was impossible.

Completely.

Fucking.

Impossible.

Hi, HP. Good of you to drop by  …  Manga grinned.





18





Impossible things before breakfast




HOW  …

THE  …

FUCK  …

CAN  …

YOU  …

BE  …

HERE  … ?!!!

He was sitting astride Mangas chest, his fingers clasped tightly round his throat and neck as his beat the balding head against the floor.

Steuurrp  …  H  …  P  …  Furrrfurck  … !! Manga gurgled, his arms flailing.

HP didnt care.

Someone was pulling at his shoulders, grabbing his arms. Nora was screaming in one ear, but he wasnt listening. He was going to kill the lying little fucker  …

A powerful arm suddenly wrapped around his neck and got him in a grip that instantly shut off the blood-supply to his brain.

His vision started to turn black, his fingers began to twitch spasmodically and he lost his grip round Mangas throat. The next moment he was dragged onto his feet. The stranglehold round his neck eased slightly, just enough for his eyesight to return.

He could see Nora leaning over Manga.

Okay, mate, are you going to calm down, or what? Jeff snarled in his ear. If not, Ill be only too happy to break your neck  …

HP tried to resist, feeling behind him with his hands in an attempt to grab whatever part of Jeff he might be able to damage. But it was hopeless. Jeffs grip was rock-solid and his pathetic attempts at resistance just led to Jeff lifting him up so his toes were only just touching the ground.

All his energy drained away. His arms and legs felt heavy as lead and he could no longer hold them up, could hardly hold himself up.

Jeff dragged him a couple of metres and then dropped him down on a small sofa.

It took him a few seconds to gather the strength to sit up.

Manga had got to his feet, and was feeling his neck as he drank a glass of water that Nora seemed to have conjured up out of nowhere.

HP could have done with something to drink, his throat felt parched and right now thirst was the only sensible feeling he had to cling onto.

Manga was the Source.

Manga

Was

The

Source.

Which meant  …

WHICH MEANT???

He closed his eyes and put his hand over his forehead. Tears were pricking his eyes, and he screwed them tight shut to stop anything leaking out.

Fuck.

Fuck!

FUCK!!

Manga picked up the chair he had been sitting on and put it in front of HP.

Here!

He held out the glass of water, still half full.

HP just stared at him.

Come on, HP! No need to be scared, youre among friends  …

HP grabbed the glass and gulped down the contents. The water was ice-cold and made his throat sting.

How long?

What?

How long have you been involved in the Game, Manga, or Farook, or whatever the hell youre calling yourself this week  … ?

Manga shrugged.

Quite a while, actually  …

HP put the glass down, leaned forward and rubbed his temples. He was still trying in vain to get his brain to make the right connections. But it was totally fucking impossible.