WANNA PLAY A GAME?
THE TEXT FLASHED up on the screen for the umpteenth time, and for the umpteenth time HP clicked it away in irritation. No, he didn’t want to play any bloody game; all he wanted to do was figure out how the cell phone in his hand worked, and whether it was possible to do anything as simple as make a phone call with it?
The commuter train from Märsta, early July, heading toward the city.
Almost thirty degrees, his top sticking to his back, his mouth already dry. Predictably,...