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Erik isn’t conscious of the fact that he’s applied the brakes and that the whole train is slowing down. There’s a rumbling sound and the screech of metal, and he isn’t sure if he ran over the young man.
He’s shaking, and can feel adrenalin coursing through his body as he calls SOS Alarm.
‘I’m a train driver, I’ve just passed someone on the Igelsta Bridge … he was in the middle of the tracks, but I don’t think I hit him …’
‘Is anyone injured?’ the operator asks.
‘I don’t think I hit him, I only saw him for a few seconds.’
‘Where exactly did you see him?’
‘In the middle of the Igelsta Bridge.’
‘On the tracks?’
‘There’s nothing but tracks up here, it’s a fucking railway bridge …’
‘Was he standing still, or was he walking in a particular direction?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘My colleague is just alerting the police and ambulance in Södertälje. We’ll have to stop all rail traffic over the bridge.’
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The emergency control room immediately dispatches police cars to both ends of the long bridge. Just nine minutes later the first car pulls off the Nyköping road with its lights flashing and makes its way up the narrow gravel track alongside Sydgatan. The road leads steeply upwards, and hasn’t been ploughed, and loose snow swirls up over the bonnet and windscreen.