‘If that’s the case, then we’re already affected, Líf.’ Garðar placed the candle back on the table and sat down.
‘Was there anything in the article about the fungus causing hallucinations?’ Katrín wondered whether what she’d seen and heard when she was alone in the house had been due to skewed perception from toxic poisoning. That would explain a lot of what had happened since their arrival at the house. If it was life-threatening, the fungus could also explain why the former owner had left the house and died outdoors somewhere. ‘Maybe we’re getting high without realizing it.’ A stab of pain that went all the way up her leg when she moved slightly in her chair didn’t suggest that she was all that doped up.
‘There was nothing about that, but it wasn’t a very scientific article.’ Líf seemed to cheer up at this weak hope that everything had a logical explanation, but she hadn’t thought it all the way through: if they were on some sort of mushroom trip, they were probably seriously ill. ‘Wow, that would be awesome! Then there’s probably nothing wrong here and we’ve just been imagining all this shit.’ She looked at Katrín’s leg, resting outstretched on a chair. ‘Except maybe this. I think you’re seriously injured.’
‘I think so too.’ Katrín leaned back as far as she could in the hope that a different position would make her feel better until the painkillers took effect. ‘How long has it been since I took the pills?’
‘Ten minutes. Fifteen. Not even that.’ Garðar yawned widely, after trying unsuccessfully to suppress it. ‘They won’t have started working yet, but they will.’ They all fell silent for a few moments, unsure whether to expect more unwelcome noises. However, nothing could be heard but their own breathing. ‘I think we should stick to our plan of going to sleep now, and I’ll keep watch until I can’t keep my eyes open. Then you’ll take over, Líf.’
‘Me?’ Líf sounded shocked. ‘Am I supposed to sit here in the dark, alone?’
‘There’s just the three of us, Líf, and Katrín is injured. It makes by far the most sense for her to sleep while the medication is working, and then take over from you when it fades. Then you just take another dose, Katrín, and keep watch as long as you can. After that I’ll take over again and hopefully by then it’ll be morning.’
Katrín found his plan over-optimistic; judging by Líf’s reluctance to take her shift, she wouldn’t last long. They would probably each take two shifts before daybreak. ‘I can’t make it up the stairs. I’ll have to sleep down here.’ No one said anything; they were all too tired to ponder what this meant. In the end Katrín broke the silence: ‘If anyone wants to bring a mattress down, I’ll just sleep in the living room. It won’t be any worse for me than sleeping upstairs.’ She pushed aside the thought of how many windows there were, windows through which it was easy to enter, unlike the ones upstairs.
‘We’ll all sleep there.’ Garðar stood up. ‘Come on, Líf, let’s bring the stuff down.’
‘But…’ Líf said nothing more. She stood up, looking shattered. ‘I don’t want to go to sleep.’
Garðar sighed, his patience long since exhausted. ‘What now? Are you going to keep watch by yourself the whole night?’
‘No. I don’t want to sleep precisely because of this stupid arrangement. As soon as I fall asleep I’ll forget everything, and I’ll be happy, and then you’ll wake me up and I’ll remember all over again, and then I’ll have to be awake and alone. I might as well take the first watch and get it over with, see?’
Katrín suddenly felt indescribably weary. She’d been in too much pain and too frightened to feel tired, but now it rushed over her. ‘Why don’t you just do that, then?’ she snapped.
‘We’ll see.’ Garðar pulled Líf along with him to go and get the mattresses before she had the chance to respond to Katrín. The face she made from the doorway as Garðar stopped to take another candle suggested that Katrín’s sarcasm hadn’t pleased her. After they’d gone, Katrín looked at Putti and wanted very much to bend down and scratch the poor dog’s ears. She didn’t, however, for fear of moving her foot before the medication kicked in. Instead she listened to Líf and Garðar’s footsteps on their way up the stairs, and to their muffled conversation, which seemed brusque but friendly, fortunately. If there was ever a time that they needed to make peace, it was now. She personally had to make quite an effort to put up with Líf, even on a good day. They didn’t need to put up with her much longer, because soon the nightmare would be over, and it would be best if they could get through that short time without bickering or fighting. She resolved to make an effort not to say or do anything to upset Líf.
‘We’re back.’ Líf stood in the doorway, looking extremely pissed off. ‘Garðar’s spreading out the sleeping bags.’
Katrín started. ‘Wow. I fell asleep.’ She stretched and yawned. ‘You know what I thought? If you want, we could take our watch together. Isn’t that the simplest solution? We’ll keep watch while Garðar sleeps and try to hold out a little longer. Of course it’ll be easier if it’s the two of us, and we can look after each other.’ She smiled at Líf in the hope that she would accept this diplomatic compromise.
At first Líf frowned, apparently wondering whether Katrín was trying to trick her. But then her face brightened and she smiled back broadly. ‘I really like that idea. Do you want me to tell you some gossip? I know so many stories that it’ll be morning before you know it.’
‘Yes please! I don’t have any at all, so I hope you know as much as you say!’ Katrín stretched properly and prepared to move over to the living room. ‘I don’t know what I’ll do if I have to pee in the night.’
‘Oh, I’ll just go with you.’ Líf was so thrilled with Katrín’s suggestion that now she was clearly capable of anything. She walked into the kitchen and bent down to Putti. ‘I guess we’re just hallucinating. Do you think Putti’s tripping as well?’
‘I don’t know whether I’d rather we were high or crazy. I’m not sure which is worse.’ Katrín watched as one of Putti’s hind legs jerked back and forth aimlessly as Líf scratched his side. He’d closed his eyes and rolled onto his back, perfectly relaxed. It had been a long time since he’d appeared so calm and Katrín was happy about this small sign of normality, which she took as an indication of a quiet night ahead.
She stirred in the night when Garðar shook her shoulder lightly and said that he was going out for a piss. The drugs might not have worked miracles, but now her leg felt more tingly than as if it were being crushed. She smiled sleepily at him, yawned and said that she would get up when he came back in. Then she slept again, without knowing that next time she woke, the night would be at an end. And Garðar would be gone.
Chapter 26
The strange fog that had lain over the town had seemed to subside. Freyr watched it creep away from Skutulsfjörður out into the sea. He took a heavy cardboard box full of old medical records from the back seat of the car and shut the door behind him with his foot. He’d got the records through the sheer goodwill of the hospital archivist and doubted he’d have met with the same helpfulness in Reykjavík, where everything was less personal and more formal. Of course people sacrificed a lot when they moved away from the capital, but they got a great deal in return, like mutual trust. When it came down to it, Freyr found the comparison favoured the rural areas.