Two Soldiers Read Online Free PDF Page A

heavy as a sack of stones that refuses to leave the floor.
    Gabriel pushed away the tongue and snout, a knife-like pain in his shoulder; the wound had turned into a wide, swollen gash overnight, on top of old scar tissue—despite two stones and a long metal pole, the window at the back of the shop had still had sharp teeth that were hard to see in the half light and sank into the flesh of those who tried to pass. He had pulled himself into a small, tight ball on his way into the shelves of goodies, but had still managed to get caught and only freed himself on the third attempt. They’d sat in the kitchen afterwards, Jon had held a short needle over a lighter flame until it glowed and then doused both the needle and the wound with Finnish vodka; he’d sewn eleven stitches through the already partially dead skin with nylon thread. Gabriel gingerly touched the wound, which had stopped bleeding, and lifted his arm up and down—the pain eased with the slow movements but was replaced by a dull, silent ache.
    Wanda was still asleep.
    He yawned, sat up on the edge of the bed, looked at her naked back and bum and thighs, his cock swelled, and
    BTW brutha, ur whore. She seems to have plenty of room for everything, hahaha brutha.
    he clenched his eyes tight until things calmed down, looked at the clock, nearly three, half an hour to go. The white tube, he quickly rubbed the cream on his skin all the way up to his neck, his clothes were lying on the red carpet that was so thick and soft, his hoodie stained dark brown from the right shoulder to halfway down the back by dried blood, he picked it up and pulled it over his head then scraped off what he could reach with his nails, couldn’t find his pants and one of his socks, two pairs of track pants and bare feet in his sneakers.
    Her ears. He leaned over, his fingertip gently touching the soft skin and her earrings, two crosses with a small diamond in the middle. From the jewelers on Kungsgatan. He’d emptied the trash bag on the floor and let her choose two things before they sold the rest to the Chinamen down by Odenplan—one hundred and ninety-four thousand for a window and five display cases. She had chosen the earrings and a ring with a red pearl that was too big really, but fit if she wore it by the knuckle on her middle finger.
    He looked at her naked body, she moved uneasily when he opened the door, said something he didn’t catch, and then turned over.
    Big Ali was lying on the sofa in the sitting room, the cut on his forehead, from when he’d smashed the window with his fist wrapped in a jacket then leaned in to reach the lock on the door, was now a straight, dark gash from his eyebrow to his hairline. Gabriel shook his sleeping shoulders hard, rapped Jon’s feet at the other end of the sofa, and punched Javad Hangaround, who was asleep in the armchair with his mouth open, in the chest.
    The red—or maybe it was orange—front door was unlocked, this was Råby after all, no one would ever come into their apartment without permission.
    The air was afternoon warm and without smells and seemed to kind of pack itself into the space between the concrete wall of the balcony and the railings, through the door onto the main stairwell, the elevator down to the basement, and the metal door, heavy key in the lock.They went into the garage that had been dug out under the six-story concrete building that constituted Råby Allé 1 to Råby Allé 214, past the rows of cars, down around the bend to the next level and the two shiny cars at the far end, one silver and one black. Gabriel carried on when the others stopped, waited, watched while he walked slowly around each one in turn, Mercedes CLK 500, cabriolet, eight cylinder , no scratches, no damage, Audi R8, four-by-four, six gears , he opened the driver’s door, three hundred and six horsepower , started the engine, listened, four hundred twenty horsepower , checked the trunk, the tires, the lights, the wheel rims. Two parking