Читать книгу Fog Island: A terrifying thriller set in a modern-day cult - Mariette Lindstein, Mariette Lindstein - Страница 16

10

The fog took hold of the island in early October, and by mid-month it had an iron grip on the place. It crept in at night and each morning it was so thick that Sofia couldn’t see the outbuildings from the window in her dormitory. The brightly coloured leaves had faded and the landscape had turned shades of golden-brown. It was steadily growing colder. Normally she would have felt a little gloomy thanks to all the fog. But not now — she spent almost all her time thinking about Benjamin. It was as if the fog transformed the island into a fairy-tale world with infinite curtains a person could pass through and discover fresh views.

Benjamin showed up in the library every day. She never knew when he would appear, so she remained in a state of constant expectation and excitement. He always had a good excuse to visit. Oswald had instructed him to help with all the purchasing. But most of the time he came by with trivial questions and errands. He had that eager way about him as if he were always on the go. He could fill an entire room with his energy just by stepping across the threshold. He would forget to remove his boots, tramping around and leaving marks on the rugs without noticing. His body was always in motion — he walked around looking out of windows, picking up objects, putting them down again — even as he spoke with her. But when he sat down in front of her he became perfectly still. He could move in and out of these states, from wound up to absolutely relaxed, in an instant.

She had a constant internal dialogue about whether it was right to start a new relationship so soon after the disaster with Ellis; her brain went back and forth, over and over. This nervous droning was like background music as she worked. But when Benjamin entered the room, the voices stopped. And then it started up again until Sunday, when he showed her the cave.

It was their day off and the whole island was blanketed in a thick fog. Everything was wet: the trees, the bushes, and the earth, which smelled like mushrooms and decaying leaves. He showed her a new path through the woods; they had to climb over huge, moss-covered stones to move forward.

From the top of the highest boulder, they got a glimpse of the grey, foamy sea between the trees. It was windy out there, but not in the woods.

Sofia stayed on the boulder for a while as Benjamin climbed down.

‘Here it is!’ she heard Benjamin’s voice from below.

She slid down from the rock and saw that he had found a patch of chanterelles in the moss.

‘This is my secret chanterelle spot. Come on, let’s pick them.’

He had brought a backpack, and they gently placed the small mushrooms inside.

‘I’ll show you something you’ve never seen by the outlook point,’ he said.

‘How do you know the island so well?’

‘We had a summer cottage here when I was little.’

‘Is it still here?’

His eyes darted away a little too quickly.

‘No, we had to sell it. Mom left us when I was twelve. Dad died in a car accident soon after that. Now it’s just me and my sister.’

‘I’m sorry, I mean, I didn’t know . . .’

‘It’s okay. It was a long time ago.’

‘Why did your mom leave?’

‘It’s hard to say. One day she was just gone. I couldn’t help but blame myself a little bit, though. It was like, I wondered what I had done wrong.’

He seemed to have sunk into himself; he looked smaller.

‘But you always seem so happy!’

She could tell right away how wrong it sounded, as if he had renounced his right to happiness.

He stood up and slung the backpack over his shoulders.

‘Well, what can you do? The future is what’s important. And I have my ViaTerra family, of course.’

The outlook point was windy. The fog had lifted from the sea, but the sky was still grey. Waves crashed in hard enough to make foam fly from the rocks.

‘That’s Devil’s Rock,’ Benjamin said, pointing. ‘Have you heard about it?’

‘Yes, Björk — the guy who runs the ferry — told me the whole story. Do you really believe all that?’

‘Sure, some of it. Once when I was younger, it was foggy and I thought I saw the Countess on the Rock. It was scary as hell. Someone was standing out there, dressed all in black. And then she vanished into the fog. It was like she dissolved.’

‘I saw someone there when I first came to the island. But it looked like a regular person. At least I think it did.’

‘We used to jump off Devil’s Rock when I was little,’ he said. ‘But then there was an accident. One guy who jumped died. The current dragged him out to sea.’

‘Did you know him?’

‘A little, he was a few years older than me. But I remember how scared we were when we found out. His mom worked at the manor. A doctor lived there back then. I don’t remember him, but I do remember his daughter, Lily. She was older than us too. Pretty girl — she had long red hair and she was thin as a rail. We used to spy on her when she was sunbathing. But she died in a fire in the barn. It all happened around the same time. It was awful.’

‘Maybe it’s true, then, about the curse on the manor?’

‘No, I don’t believe in ghosts like that. But I do believe some souls have trouble finding peace. That they can stick around, sort of.’

She looked out at the cliff and could almost see a figure there.

‘Ooh, now you’re scaring me.’

He laughed and put his arm around her shoulders.

‘Let’s climb down the rocks,’ he said, looking at her rubber boots with concern. ‘Be careful so you don’t slip.’

They cautiously made their way down the steep rock face. Sofia did lose her footing a few times, but managed to steady herself and tried to keep up with Benjamin.

They came to a small grassy slope between the boulders, and he stopped there. They were directly underneath Devil’s Rock, and the cliff hung over them like a huge ceiling. The waves crashed, roaring and splashing. Benjamin pointed up at the ledge. At first she couldn’t tell what he was pointing at, but then she saw a big dark spot among all the rocks. It could have been a black rock, but she realized it was a hole.

He came over to her and took her lightly by the shoulders.

‘You have to swear not to tell anyone about the cave. Promise?’

‘Of course.’

‘Good, let’s go in.’

The cave was about four metres deep and one and a half metres in height. It was cool and damp inside, but the floor was dry. She had the strange sensation as she gazed out at the waves, as if she were in a house floating above the sea.

Benjamin emptied his backpack. Some kindling, a frying pan, and matches, as well as some cheese, bread, and fruit he’d begged from the kitchen. They got a fire going and grilled chanterelle sandwiches over the fire. They had to eat with their fingers — he’d forgotten cutlery. They chatted nonstop, then sat quietly for a while and gazed out at the sea and the sky, which still hadn’t cleared. Then the fire died out and the cave grew chilly.

‘Now we’re going to eat dinner in the village,’ he said. ‘We’re going to Fritjof’s. It’s crab season, and theirs is the best.’

It was starting to get dark, so they went to the village by the road.

For a while, they didn’t say anything as they walked. She could hardly make out his face in the dim twilight, but she got the sense that he was brooding about something. His arm had been around her, but he let it slide off her shoulders. She was just about to ask what was on his mind when they arrived at the pub.

Inside, in the warm light, he seemed normal again. He laughed at her cold, blue fingers and warmed them for her. He joked with the waitress and ordered so much crab and so many sides that there was hardly room on the table. His hair glowed in the light from the candle; it almost looked like it had caught fire.

She asked about the renovations and their lack of sleep, what he thought of it all.

‘We wouldn’t have completed the renovations if Franz hadn’t put his foot down,’ he said firmly.

‘So you’re a fanatical follower?’

‘Maybe. I mean, ViaTerra is my family. The only family I have.’

‘But that doesn’t mean everything about it is perfect, does it?’

‘You’re so new, Sofia. You’ll get used to it. The purpose is what matters.’

That same shadow fell across his face again.

‘What are you thinking about?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Come on, out with it. I can tell something’s up.’

He cleared his throat, looking embarrassed.

‘Well, it’s just, you know . . . if you’re a couple, at ViaTerra, the expectation is that you’ll, um, move in together.’

‘Move in together?’

‘I just want to make sure you know the rules before we start anything. It seems like no one explained them to you.’

‘What rules?’

‘You can only have sex if you live together or you’re married.’

‘Who said anything about sex?’

‘Don’t make this even harder for me.’

‘What kind of moron thought up that rule?’

Benjamin laughed.

‘Franz, probably. But don’t you see what it would be like in such a small group, if everyone was sleeping with everyone else all the time?’

She considered it for a moment. This was all so exciting. It was new and unusual and a little titillating, and for some strange reason she liked it.

‘But just because there are rules doesn’t mean you can’t bend them a little sometimes, right?’

He nodded in agreement as if they had just made a pact.

*

It was totally dark when they left the pub. A half-moon shined down on them from the clear sky. They could see their breath, and the chilly air nipped at their cheeks. She flipped up her collar and buried her hands in her jacket pockets. Benjamin put his arm around her shoulders again.

The walk to ViaTerra was long, but it passed quickly. She leaned against him, snuggling into his chest now and then.

Sten was on guard at the gate, and he waved them in distractedly. The wind was still beyond the thick walls.

The windows of the manor house were bright in the darkness. When Sofia looked up, she thought she could see a light on in the attic — then she remembered that the attic was unfit for use. A moment later the light had vanished and she decided she must have been seeing things.

*

They bent the rules just a few weeks later. They never discussed it, but the tension between them had risen until his visits to the library became unbearable.

It was their day off, and he met her by the gate. They didn’t even talk about where to go — their feet just carried them to the cottage and their hands were linked as if frozen by a constant electric current. She moved right up next to him for the last little bit of the journey and noticed that his breathing was already faintly erratic and heavy.

She’d had good and bad sex before, but never forbidden sex, so this was something new. She walked ahead of him into the cottage and right away he grabbed her from behind, lifting her loose hair and kissing her tenderly on the back of the neck. He nibbled at her earlobe and tried to get his hands in under her clothes, but one hand got stuck between the buttons. She pulled him to the kitchen bench and they collapsed onto it, eager but awkward in all their outerwear. They rolled onto the rag rug on the floor. On the way down she accidentally grabbed hold of the lace tablecloth and a candlestick came flying by, narrowly missing Benjamin’s head. They burst into laughter but managed to pull off each other’s clothing: jackets, boots, gloves, pants, and sweaters ended up in one big pile that grew as they gasped and howled in amusement.

This is how it should be the first time, she thought. Wild and joyful. Then she thought about what would happen if someone came into the cottage and discovered them on the floor — but it wouldn’t have mattered, not even if it was Oswald himself. It was like they were a runaway train, and no one could stop them.

Afterwards, as they lay twined together on the rag rug, she decided that forbidden sex blew everything else out of the water.

She rested her head against his shoulder and they lay like that for a long time. Completely devoid of energy, drained.

‘What’s the punishment?’ she asked.

‘The punishment?’

‘Yes, for what we did.’

‘What do you mean, what we did?’

‘Stop messing with me!’

‘Well, it’s pretty bad. I mean, you get shunned from the group. Dismissed. Sent back to the mainland.’

‘No way! Just for having sex without living together?’

‘That’s right. But we don’t have to tell anyone, do we? It’s between us.’

She thought of the library, her dream for the future. How would it feel to tell her family and friends that she couldn’t hack it? That she had been fired?

‘Exactly. It has nothing to do with anyone else.’

I’m sitting on the cliff and staring into the fog.

It seems strange that the fog lingers even though spring is here. Maybe it’s a sign, calling me to leave.

You can hardly see the water, only hear the waves crashing against the rocks. A few ducks fly down and land on the surface, where they turn into little brown balls of feathers. Too bad I left my rifle at home. I toss a rock at them and they flap their wings and fly off.

The wind is picking up and the fog is scattering farther out at sea; I can see the lighthouse out there, a dot floating in the mist. It’s a peculiar sight. Not beautiful — because beauty is a concept I never make use of, an expression used by the weak to show how sensitive they are.

But it’s calm here by the sea, maybe even peaceful.

I haven’t received a response to my letter, but it doesn’t matter. Now he knows.

Everything is ready. I’ve pawned my mother’s jewellery, things she won’t miss until I’m long gone from the island.

The ticket is safely tucked in my trouser pocket. My backpack is under my bed, the diary and other important documents inside. I think about my exodus. How I will disappear. How it will feel when I come back once it’s all done.

One last night with Lily is all I need now, a ceremony and an acknowledgement.

Then I hear a sound. It floats in from the sea and echoes off the rocks. A dull, monotonous bellow from the old lighthouse.

The foghorn.

My first thought is that it can’t be true. That the message is for someone else, an old person in the village or some suicidal idiot roving through the forest.

Because I know what that howl means.

It’s a warning to someone who’s about to die.