Chapter 97
Anton’s voice makes Daniel react instantly.
He has just come out of the house with William and Amir when he sees Pontus racing away from the turning area. Anton is following him, but something is wrong, he staggers in the middle of the road, his face is covered in blood.
Anton drops to his knees, and Daniel breaks into a run to stop Pontus, who has just passed the end of the drive. He is about ten yards ahead and refuses to stop, even though Daniel is yelling at him.
Daniel has no choice but to draw his service weapon.
Pontus cannot be allowed to get away.
Raising the gun, Daniel bellows as loudly as he can, “Stop or I’ll shoot!”
Pontus ignores him, and increases his speed as Daniel removes the safety catch and fires a warning shot into the air.
The loud report echoes among the houses, and Pontus casts a terrified glance over his shoulder. Daniel can see the desperation in his eyes, but still Pontus refuses to give up. He carries on down the hill, despite slipping and almost losing his balance.
Hanna comes racing up behind Daniel.
“Take care of Anton,” Daniel calls out, forcing himself to run faster. “I’ve got this.”
He has no intention of letting Pontus escape, not when he’s so close.
They have almost reached the crossroads. Pontus is about to continue over to the other side when a large snowplow appears around the bend. The noise of the engine drowns out every other sound, and the driver’s attention is focused on the route ahead.
He doesn’t notice the boy who comes flying from the left.
Daniel sees Pontus hesitate for a microsecond as he tries to weigh up the odds; is he going to be able to make it across the road before the enormous machine gets there? It is way too close to be able to brake. If the huge steel scoop hits Pontus, he has no chance.
But Pontus looks as if he isn’t going to stop. He is too desperate; he is incapable of thinking clearly.
“No!” Daniel roars as he hurls himself forward.
It is like a slow-motion sequence. He reaches for Pontus’s jacket, fumbles in thin air, then manages to grab a piece of fabric and pulls as hard as he can. Through sheer force of will, Daniel manages to drag the boy out of the way as the snowplow thunders past with only inches to spare.
Its vibrations can be felt through the ground. It was so close that Daniel felt the draft against his cheek.
They both fall to the ground and roll into the ditch, with Daniel on top.
“Are you out of your mind?” he pants, shaking Pontus. “You could have killed both of us!”
He has to fight to hold back his anger, but somehow he manages to regain control. He quickly takes out a pair of handcuffs and secures Pontus’s wrists behind his back.
This time Pontus offers no resistance, but simply lies motionless on the ground. Daniel drags him to his feet, keeping a firm hold on his elbow.
Pontus’s face is smeared with snow and gravel.
“You have a lot of explaining to do,” Daniel says. “Murder, arson, assault, and resisting arrest.”
Pontus is breathing laboriously.
“I haven’t done anything,” he says without looking up.
Daniel contemplates him wearily.
Filippa is dead and Emil’s throat still bears the clear marks from Pontus’s fingers. Last night the cabin was in flames.
It is not Pontus who is the victim in this story.