Free I Am Behind You by John Ajvide Lindqvist, Marlaine Delargy Page A

two folding chairs. Olof knows the correct terminology— iPod, dock, speakers —but because he doesn’t know how to operate the devices in question, he thinks of them as gadgets.
    Lennart is astonishingly adept when it comes to modern technology. Mobile phones, computers, MP3 players. In his own defence, Olof can say that Lennart’s daughter Gunilla is a much more patient tutor than Ante, whose pedagogical efforts rarely extend beyond: ‘Read the instructions.’
    Olof settles down in his chair and nods to Lennart, who looks much happier now he is dealing with something he is good at. Lennart slides his finger across the screen, and Olof says: ‘It’s a good job you know how to do that.’
    ‘Shall I show you what to do?’
    ‘If you like. As long as you let me show you how to dance. One day.’
    Lennart can’t help smiling. Then he nods. ‘Sounds reasonable. Super Trouper ?’
    ‘Muy bien, gracias.’
    ‘De nada, señor.’
    Lennart places the iPod in its dock. Olof leans back and closes his eyes as he hears the first staccato notes of ‘Lay All Your Love on Me’. Excellent.
    *
    Emil has calmed down, but he refuses to talk about why he was so upset. As soon as Stefan or Carina attempt to ask a question, he puts his hands over his ears and starts humming tunelessly.
    Stefan is standing with his hands in his pockets, staring out acrossthe field. Nothing. This can’t be true. Vast expanses of emptiness like this do exist on the earth, but they are deserts or oceans. Where there is grass there are flowers, bushes, animals.
    What if we’re not on the earth?
    The idea is ridiculous. Is he suggesting that a spaceship came along and beamed them up to this place, then started broadcasting Swedish pop music to keep them calm? It sounds like a bad film. Or a good film. But not like something that happens in real life.
    He hears the sound of ‘Lay All Your Love on Me’ coming from the vicinity of one of the other caravans. Stefan has never been a fan of Abba; he has never really listened to their songs, but now he realises that the chorus almost sounds like church music, something sacred. A psalm or a prayer.
    ‘Daddy,’ Emil says. ‘There aren’t any birds here.’
    ‘No, it seems that way.’
    ‘That’s stupid. That means we can’t walk the line. And there aren’t any trees either. So what is there?’
    ‘There are people. And the caravans. And the cars.’
    ‘But there must be more than that, mustn’t there?’
    ‘I guess so.’
    Like many of the best games, Walk the Line came about by chance. Stefan had been measuring the distance between outbuildings in order to submit a planning application, and had run a length of twine through a small copse of trees.
    Emil had been following this line in his gumboots when he spotted a bullfinch. After a couple more steps he saw a wagtail. When he reached Stefan they heard a knocking sound and looked up to see a woodpecker in the tree to which Stefan had secured the twine.
    They decided to leave the line in place because it was obviously particularly easy to spot birds along its length. Every afternoon Emil solemnly walked along it with one foot on either side, gazing up at the trees. One day when Stefan and Carina were with him, Stefan had started to sing ‘I Walk the Line’, and that was how the game got its name.
    ‘Stefan,’ Carina says, getting up and looking out at the field. ‘We have to find out what’s out there.’
    ‘Yes, but…we don’t have GPS. I’m afraid of getting lost, if there are no landmarks. But you’re right, of course. We can’t just sit here.’
    Carina pinches her nose and thinks for a moment. ‘Couldn’t we… or…’
    ‘Hang on,’ Stefan says. ‘I know what to do.’
    Emil tugs at his hand. ‘What, Daddy?’
    Stefan looks at him with a smile, and says: ‘Walk the line.’
    *
    Majvor has been banished to the caravan so that Donald can have a private conversation with Peter. It is slightly humiliating, but she chooses her