balance, and then he walked over to the wardrobe. He stood there a moment, thinking, and bent down. It was dark in the corner. He put one leg on either side of the sleeping body and hesitantly placed a fumbling hand at Errki's waist. Suddenly he slipped in something wet and sticky and toppled over. In two seconds he was back on his feet, with a puzzled look on his face.
"Fucking hell!"
Kannick gave a start and blinked. "What's going on?"
"There's blood everywhere! He's bleeding like anything!"
Kannick felt a cold terror creep across his shoulders.
"Errki!" Morgan screamed, lurching back. "He's bled to death. He's cold!"
"No!" The scream was shrill and hoarse. Kannick clambered to his feet but immediately had to lean against the wall.
"He's dead!"
As if in a nightmare Kannick watched Morgan slowly turn around and stare at him. "Do you realise what you've done? You killed Errki with your bow. Damn it all, Kannick!"
Kannick shook his head. A sound came from his lips, like a shriek that dissolved before it was fully formed.
"I only hit him in the leg."
"You must have hit a vein in his groin. Maybe an artery."
Morgan moved back further, keeping his eyes fixed on Kannick. "I've had enough of this. I'm getting out of this madhouse!"
He swayed violently. He needed the gun, but to get it he would have to touch the cold body, maybe even get blood on his hands.
"You've got to help me!"
Kannick was clinging to the wooden wall. He started to cry. "I didn't mean to! He opened the door, and I couldn't help it. You have to tell them what happened. Nobody else saw it!"
Morgan paused, moved by the sight of the fat, desperate boy. He swallowed hard, cast another glance at Errki's body, and sank down on to the floor. "Things were bad enough for me without this. I robbed a bank and took a hostage. I'll get a stiff sentence."
"We could dump the body in the lake. We can say that he escaped!" Kannick was wringing his hands. "I didn't mean to do it. It was an accident! Let's dump him in the lake!"
"All you have to do is tell the truth to the police. But I've got to get out of here."
Morgan's eyes narrowed. He was trying to pull himself together sufficiently to think of a way out.
Sobs bubbled out of Kannick, a river of tears, his face the picture of despair.
"If won't help to dump him in the lake," Morgan said urgently. "There's blood all over the place in here. A whole pool of it."
"We can put the wardrobe over it."
"That won't help."
"Please!"
"They're looking for us. They could be here any minute. We don't have time. And we can't carry him down to the water without getting covered in blood. It's no use, Kannick. Besides, you're too young to end up in prison. You'll get off. Just like Errki would for murdering that old woman, because he's nuts. But I," he yelled, pounding his fists in fury on the floor, "I'm not going to get off. I don't have any damned excuse!"
He groaned and yanked at his hair, trying to remember how the day had begun. It struck him how unbelievably long it had been. It felt like an entire lifetime. A terrible feeling of paralysis overwhelmed him. His brain refused to function. It was that fucking whisky. Kannick was stretched out on the floor, gasping.
"There's a steep slope behind the house," he sobbed. "Maybe he would roll downhill all by himself."
"Jesus Christ. I can't take any more of this!"
Kannick stood up, walked across the room, and began shaking Morgan vigorously. "You have to. You have to!"
"No, I don't."
"We'll do it together. And then we'll take off. We have to! Nobody is going to miss him."
"You're wrong," Morgan said quietly. Surprised, he realised how true this was as soon as he said it.
He peered out the window, sobbing. The landscape off in the distance looked hazy. He had to get away, or go crazy, like Errki. He would start rambling right now, if he allowed himself to. He could feel it: how he could sink down and leave the world behind. How he could look in astonishment at people talking, unable to understand what they said. But he wouldn't care. He would just let them carry on. It's not my concern. This society is fucked. There are too many things to think about. Like the blackmailer waiting in prison. Like the fat, unhappy boy standing in front of