Colony

  Koikov leapt up into the hovercraft and set off in pursuit.

  * * *

  Ava’s screams filled the cabin as the helicopter lurched downwards. Smoke rushed past the windows, blacking out the view. Between gusts, Callum could see that they were hurtling towards the bluffs at the foot of the Hjalmar Ridge.

  In all the chaos he had managed to manoeuvre his hands around and into his jacket pocket. He now searched around until he found what he was looking for. He withdrew the flint blade that he had taken from Ngana’bta and worked it carefully from its sheath.

  He began sawing at his lashings. The blade was cold and the action of sawing with bound hands was awkward, but it was working. One by one he could feel the fibres unpick.

  Lungkaju turned from the window. “Do not worry, Doctor Ross. I will make sure that you get off the helicopter. You, Doctor Lee and Doctor Lebedev.” He was panicked and gabbling, forced to shout over the whine of the emergency siren.

  “What difference does it make?” Callum shouted back. “If we don’t burn to death on this thing, we’re just going to get killed as part of your boss’s depraved game anyway. And that’s if the creatures don’t get to us first. All of us!”

  They were now less than ten metres off the ground.

  Callum arched his back, allowing him to get a better purchase on the blade. “What the hell’s on this data stick that’s so important anyway?” He couldn’t have cared less. He just needed to keep Lungkaju distracted.

  “It is a computer virus.”

  “Is that it?”

  “It is a very powerful virus. Mr Peterson has infected the computers which control the gas supply in Russia.”

  One by one the fibres unpicked. The flint blade hadn’t dulled with age. As Callum had hoped, it was as sharp today as it had been when it was first knapped. He laughed out loud as he attacked the few remaining strands. “So your friend Mr Volkov got more than he bargained for in old Dan Peterson! Though why the hell he’d think Peterson would give the stick to us is beyond me.” With one final jerk of his wrist he sliced through the remaining fibres. “None of us have ever seen it, Lungkaju. I’ve no idea what it even looks like.”

  “It is a small black key ring.”

  Callum’s mind raced. Ava!

  “Brace!” Lungkaju shouted suddenly, throwing his arms up over his head.

  A split second later and the helicopter hit the ground. The entire craft shook. Sparks erupted overhead and Callum could hear screams emanating from the flight deck.

  The landing rails skidded across the rocky plateau. The battered craft tipped, teetered on one rail and then, with a hideous groan, crashed over onto its side.

  5

  Smoke filled the cabin.

  In the first moments after impact, Callum’s only concern was Darya. She had not been restrained and her body had been flung into the far window. He brought his hands out from behind his back and quickly unfastened his belt. Then he dropped down past Ava and helped her free.

  The two of them crouched beside Darya. She appeared uninjured and the shock of the collision had finally roused her. She stared around in confusion. “Wh-where…”

  Callum held her face in his hands and kissed her. “There’s no time to explain. We just need to get out of here.”

  “Where is here?”

  “Volkov’s helicopter.”

  “Volkov?”

  Callum cast around. To his right, Lungkaju was still struggling to escape from his restraints. The crash landing had thrown the pistol from his hand and his body dangled awkwardly, reducing the movement of his arms. He’d managed to manoeuvre his hands up onto the belt clasp, but before he could undo it, Callum punched him as hard as he could in the side of the face.

  It was the first time since he was a schoolboy that Callum had thrown a punch in anger, and he was surprised at how natural it felt. Sometimes, he realised, there was just nothing else for it. His knuckles stung with the impact, but it had the desired effect. Lungkaju now hung limp, not unconscious, but stunned. His limbs dangled down through the harness straps once again, as if he was caught in a net, a thin trickle of blood weeping from his cheek.

  The fumes within the cabin were making it difficult to breathe, and Callum and Ava prised open the side door above their heads. Callum lifted her and Darya up, and fed them out through the doorway. As he went to hoist himself free, his gaze fell upon Lungkaju. Still delirious, the Nganasan was squirming against the seat harness, straining for breath.

  Callum turned away and went to lift himself out again. The sense of betrayal that he felt was still as raw as the smoke burning his lungs. His fingers fastened around the rim of the upturned doorway and he hauled himself up. He wanted nothing more than to leave Lungkaju to the death that he deserved. But as his head broke up into the open, he let out a growl of anguish and dropped back down.

  With his mouth and nose dug into the crook of his arm, he reached across and undid Lungkaju’s belt clasp. The straps retracted and Lungkaju tumbled forward into his arms.

  “What are you doing?”

  Callum glanced up to see both Darya and Ava, their faces twisted with panic, peering down at him through the smoke.

  “You need to get out of there! The tail is on fire, it is spreading!”

  “Just grab his arms,” Callum shouted, lifting Lungkaju’s body up as high as he could. “I’m not leaving him to die.” He struggled to support the man’s dead weight. Then at last the strain began to lift, as Darya and Ava helped drag him from the cabin.

  Remembering the pistol, Callum scrabbled around at his feet, found it and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. Then he finally hauled himself up out of the smoke.

  Callum emerged from the helicopter, lungs heavy, eyes stinging. Gasping for air, he and the others slid down the exterior panelling onto the ground and hurried from the craft. They stopped at a safe distance and looked back towards the wreckage. It was concealed in great swathes of smoke, the cloud swelling out towards them.

  Lungkaju looked up at Callum. “You saved me.”

  Callum said nothing. He was still struggling to breathe.

  “Why?”

  He coughed up a lungful of black phlegm. “I didn’t do it for you!”

  “Then why, Doctor Ross? After what I have done—”

  “Because I didn’t want your little girl to have to grow up without a father, that’s why. I didn’t want that on my conscience.”

  “How very touching.”

  The group turned around to see Mr Volkov emerging from the smoke, his pistol drawn and aimed towards them. His face and uniform were smeared black, but his eyes were the only thing aflame.

  “Mr Volkov? Is that you?” Darya asked.

  “It’s him alright,” Callum said, looking Volkov straight in the eye. “And you were right about him too. This man is pure evil. He’s the one who ordered the Albanov to be destroyed.”

  “He murdered Sergeant Marchenko and the rest of his team as well,” Ava said. “He took us hostage, and Lungkaju… well, Lungkaju’s just his stooge.”

  “Lungkaju?”

  Lungkaju met Darya’s gaze and then looked away.

  “Thank you, Doctors,” Volkov said, “for such a colourful summary.” He gestured towards Lungkaju. “Now release him at once.”

  “They are only helping, Mr Volkov—”

  “Be quiet and come here.”

  Lungkaju staggered forward.

  “Wait.” Volkov’s eyes narrowed. “I want you to search all three of them. One of them has the data stick and I want it now. Playtime is over.”

  “Mr Volkov—”

  “There’s no need,” Callum said.

  “Oh, really, Doctor Ross, and why is that?”

  “Because I know where it is.”

  A triumphant smile broke across Volkov’s face. “I knew it!
I knew that Yankee imbecile had entrusted it to one of you.” He brought the pistol to bear on Callum. “You will hand it over now.”

  Callum turned to Ava. “Do you have your survival tin?”

  She looked at him in obvious confusion. Then she dug a hand into her inside pocket and removed the gold tin. Callum took it. He unhitched the lid and rifled through the contents until his fingers fell upon the small, black, rectangular key ring. He removed it and pressed at the centre. The concealed USB connector emerged from the tip.

  “I’ll be damned!” Ava said.

  Callum held the key ring up. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

  Volkov’s eyes widened. “Hand it to Lungkaju.”

  Lungkaju held his hand out, and Callum dropped the data stick into his palm.

  “Bring it here. Quickly!”

  Lungkaju hesitated. “You must promise to let them go.”

  Volkov’s face contorted as he bawled at Lungkaju.

  “Mr Volkov, please. Nobody else has to die.”

  Volkov’s pistol panned around to aim at him. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” he sneered. “Now bring me the data stick!”

  “Just give it to him,” Callum urged.

  “If I do this, Doctor Ross, then he will kill you all. He cannot risk leaving you alive.”

  Volkov cocked the pistol. “Lungkaju, it sounds suspiciously as if you are betraying me. You know how very dangerous that would be, and not just for yourself.” He paused, then dropped his voice, adding, “I owe my life to your father. It is for this reason only that I am giving you one last chance to prove yourself to me.” He spoke slowly. “Bring me the data stick now.”

  With Volkov distracted, Callum seized Lungkaju’s pistol from his belt and trained it on Volkov. “Drop the gun.”

  With his own pistol still pointing at Lungkaju, Volkov’s eyes moved slowly back across to Callum. He took one look at the gun in his hand and then laughed out loud. “Ah, Doctor Ross. Come now. You are a thinker, not a killer. Besides which, you do not reach where I have reached by arming your enemies.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? Drop the gun or I will shoot you.”

  “Of course you will.”

  “Don’t push me, Volkov!” Not for the first time, Callum was shaken by the venom in his own voice. “A month ago, if anybody had told me I’d be stood here now pointing a gun at another man, perfectly prepared to kill him, I’d have called them crazy. But not now. If Harmsworth’s taught me one thing, it’s kill or be killed. Now this is your last chance. So drop the gun!”

  Volkov shifted slightly.

  Callum squeezed the trigger.

  6

  There was an impotent clicking noise, but no bullet.

  “How unfortunate,” Volkov beamed. He withdrew a small silver container from his pocket and tipped whatever the contents were into his mouth.

  As he did so, Callum snatched at the trigger again and again. But still nothing happened.

  “It was clear to me that Lungkaju’s loyalties may have been misplaced,” Volkov said, placing the container back into his pocket. “He is not a man of business.”

  Callum dropped the pistol to the ground.

  “As I said,” Volkov continued, “you do not reach where I have reached by arming your enemies. Or by letting them live.”

  He fired a single shot.

  With a gasp of shock, Lungkaju stumbled backwards into Ava’s arms and collapsed. Callum and Darya rushed to help support him. The bullet had passed through the side of his neck and the wound was spewing out blood. It was fatal, that much was clear to all of them, but Darya attempted to stem the flow, while Callum grabbed his hand and tried to comfort him.

  Lungkaju’s face was drained of colour. He dug a trembling hand into his pocket and produced a letter. “Give this to my daughter, Doctor Ross. Will you do this? Please? It is my next letter to her. My last letter.”

  Callum nodded and squeezed his hand.

  “Perhaps one day she can meet your son,” he whispered. “I hope for this.”

  His eyelids fluttered shut, and a last breath gurgled from his ruptured throat.

  “Enough!” Volkov shouted. “Now, Ms Lebedev, you will bring me the data stick. You have seen what happens when this request is denied.”

  Callum could only watch as, sobbing, Darya peeled open Lungkaju’s lifeless hand and removed the data stick. His blood still warm on her fingertips, she walked across and gave the stick to Volkov.

  “Finally!” he said, snatching it away and slipping it into his top pocket. He brought his pistol back up and pointed it at Darya. “And now, I am afraid Lungkaju was quite correct. It is time for us all to part company—”

  Volkov lurched backwards as a bullet ricocheted off the rock at his feet. He threw his arm around Darya’s neck, digging the pistol into her side, and turned.

  The hovercraft was racing towards them. Starshyna Koikov was at the helm, and he clearly had no intention of slowing down.

  Volkov bellowed out in Russian. Then he took off, herding Darya ahead of him.

  It was only now that Callum noticed where they were. If the helicopter had continued just another few metres, they would’ve smashed straight into the rockface at the southern tip of the ridge. The pilot had brought them down in the nick of time, landing on a wide plateau in the shadow of the cliffs.

  Ahead, he could see out over the coastal basin, the faint wisps of smoke still rising from the remains of the bunker, the blotch on the moraine still clear. A short distance behind them, the ridge itself rose steeply, riven towards its summit by the crystal blue cusps of the ancient ice cap, riddled at its base with a wood-worm of caves. He watched with horror as Volkov urged Darya towards them.

  The hovercraft screamed to a halt suddenly next to Callum, and Koikov leapt down, rifle poised. His gaze was stony with hate and the heat of his body steamed into the cold air.

  Volkov stopped at the base of the ridge, holstered his pistol and pulled out an ornate combat knife with a savage-looking black blade. With incredible deftness, he spun it through his fingers and then pressed it against Darya’s throat. “I will make this simple. You follow, she dies a slow and painful death.”

  “You carry on, you both die!” Callum shouted back. “The creatures… those caves will be crawling with them.”

  Volkov looked confused. “Nonsense!”

  “Volkov!”

  “You follow, she dies.” He dragged Darya the last few paces towards the nearest cave. Then, with a final hate-filled glare at the three survivors, he and Darya melted away into the darkness.

  Callum, Koikov and Ava stood in silence as the smoke from the grounded helicopter billowed around them. Then, without a word, Callum started forward.

  “What are you doing?” Ava said.

  “I don’t know,” he replied, “but I’m not leaving her.”

  “But… the creatures… you’ll be killed as well, Doctor Ross… you’ve got nothing, no weapons… nothing…”

  Callum felt something thrust against his arm. He looked down to see a machine gun. Koikov nodded at him and grunted. His face was streaked with blood. The scar on his cheek was flushed purple, surrounded by the start of a dense, dark brown beard.

  Callum took the rifle and watched as Koikov marched over to the hovercraft. After rooting around in the hold, he produced another rifle and what looked like a bazooka cannon, then marched back over to Callum’s side.

  “Ava, you stay here with the hovercraft,” Callum said. “If we’re not back in an hour then you can assume we’re dead. There might be enough fuel for you to make it to Nagurskoye.”

  “Assume you’re dead? Nagurskoye? Are you kidding me?”

  Callum pushed a hand back through his hair. Matted with grease, the curls caught around his fingers. “I don’t know what else to say.”

 
She took a deep breath. “Look, I’m coming with you, alright. You’re not the only stupid, impulsive jerk on this island.”

  Eyes focussed, she took his hand. “Nobody would ever believe me about this place anyway. And besides,” she gestured towards Koikov as he slammed a magazine into his rifle, “we’re packing Special Forces.”

  Callum reached out and hugged her.

  Koikov snorted and spat on the floor.

  Chapter 18

  The Hive

  1

  A few paces in and the cave narrowed into a tunnel. Callum, Koikov and Ava walked in silence. Koikov, the only one with LVV, took the lead. The bazooka was slung across his back. His rifle was shouldered. Callum and Ava followed on, using Callum’s rifle lamp to light their way.

  As they walked, the temperature increased until sweat lined each of their brows. There was no breeze. No through-draught. Barely any air. What there was hung still and stale. Beyond the echo of their footsteps, the only sound was a low hiss, as if the rock itself was whispering a faint warning.

  After a while, the tunnel began to widen out. The combination of heat and the stink of musk was overpowering, and Callum had to fight to control his gag reflex. Beetles scurried amongst the faeces underfoot, while pale cave spiders and other creatures that would never see the midnight sun picked their way overhead.

  Callum had never felt more out of place. The sights, the sounds, the smells were all so alien. Only, it wasn’t they that were unwelcome, not here, where they had survived the eons undisturbed. It was him. Himself, Koikov and Ava. They were the intruders into this ancient world.

  Another few metres and a glow emerged. As they moved forward, it intensified until the tunnel was largely illuminated. Callum stopped and turned off his rifle lamp. He wiped the sweat from his face, watching as Koikov removed his LVV. The survivors shared a brief exchange of glances, all three of them well beyond fear.

  The creatures… Volkov…

  Volkov… The creatures…

  The two had become one in all three minds. They had merged into the same threat, a single faceless monster lurking somewhere in this forgotten place.