Colony

  The black birch handle struck the creature’s torso and bounced pathetically backwards. Without stirring, the creature watched with interest as the tiny object tripped down onto the rock, where the blade snapped off with a resounding clunk. Both blade and handle then clattered over the edge of the island and down into the magma.

  Slowly, the creature moved its gaze back to Volkov.

  He turned and fled. The harrowing sound of the creature’s hiss pursued him, filling his ears as he sprinted back along the bridge of rock. On the perimeter of the magma pit, he could see a huddle of the smaller, less fearsome-looking creatures. Their heads were bowed combatively, their mouths were open and they were screaming out at his approach.

  His every instinct was to turn from them, but turn where? They were everywhere, and the nearest tunnel was directly behind the dozen or so ahead of him now. If he wanted out of the nightmare, then this was his best option.

  Uncertain how many rounds he had remaining, he grabbed his pistol and prepared to blaze a way through. But before he’d had to fire a shot, a series of staccato roars sounded out behind him and the clot of creatures simply parted to allow him through. The stinking beasts must have thought better of assailing him after all. He allowed himself a smile of relief as he passed between them and bolted on towards the tunnel.

  No sooner had he passed the creatures than his smile disappeared. A flash of pain bolted down his right thigh and he felt himself disabled. No longer able to run for the agony, he had no choice but to pull up.

  As he turned around, one of the creatures was lowering its hind leg. Blood, his blood, stained its retracted toe claw. He felt a deep sense of horror, which turned quickly to nausea. There was a gash across his buttock, and blood flowed out over his hand and down his trouser leg to join the urine.

  In a fit of rage, he took aim at the offending creature and fired. The bullet missed by a mile. The creature didn’t even flinch. By now, his hands were shaking so violently that he knew another shot would be pointless. The creature seemed to know this; it cocked its head and eyed him with something close to pity. Then, to his surprise, it turned its back on him, as did all the others.

  Holding a hand over his wound, Volkov limped off into the tunnel.

  * * *

  Darya looked suddenly very alone.

  Still hissing, the creature now reached out and took hold of one of its eggs. With incredible dexterity, it lifted it up, reached across its body and fed it straight into a pouch of skin on the opposite side of its chest. No sooner had it done this than the other arm had reached forward and repeated exactly the same action, sliding a second egg into an opposing pouch.

  The effect of its wings, along with its extra bulk, made the creature’s actions appear cumbersome. But it carried out the process of gathering up its clutch with ease. It was a crab-like motion, one arm after another performed in quick succession, the result of millions of years of instinct to protect its unborn offspring. And it took only seconds for all of the eggs to be concealed, spread evenly between the two pouches.

  The creature now turned its attention to Darya. Drawing itself up to full height, it dwarfed her. It was at least twice her size, and with its young out of the equation, its behaviour had changed. It was no longer cautious but openly aggressive, its jaws grinding together, leaking drool, its hind claws tapping impatiently at the rock.

  Around the cavern, the screeching of the females reached a zenith.

  “I think we know what killed your ice mummy,” Ava whispered.

  Callum’s mind raced. Tansu Taibaa.

  Suddenly it all made sense. The myth was true. The ancient champion had made it to the Land of White Death, and he had hunted down Tansu Taibaa, the lizard bird, now towering over Darya. Armed only with his ski-pole spears, the champion of the Twelve Clans had failed to make good on his boast of killing the creature. But instead of fleeing in terror, he had chosen another course. In some respects a brave one. In other respects much more foolish. And it had sealed his grizzly fate.

  Callum’s mind moved to the final pieces of the millennia-old puzzle: the scatter of white fragments, which he had taken for broken pottery, and the little skeleton, which he had taken for that of a bird. How had he not seen it before? They rose up from the floor of the tunnel now, a timeless 3D jigsaw, and repieced themselves before his eyes.

  An egg.

  Ngana’bta had stolen a Troodon egg. Whether to lure the creature, whether as proof of his journey, whether on pure impulse. His motive was lost to time. But he had paid for it: first with his legs and then with his life, as he’d dragged his mutilated body into the tunnel in a last futile bid to escape.

  Callum’s thoughts were interrupted by the creature’s sudden roar. There was now nothing between it and Darya on the island of rock. No eggs. No barrier. Only a few metres of flat, open space.

  As it raised its arms and advanced on her, Callum couldn’t wait any longer. Ignoring Ava’s pleas, he jumped to his feet, raced down the slope and out onto the bridge of stone. The silence shattered as the females spotted him and let up a deafening howl. The male saw him too and added its own resounding bellow to the chorus.

  3

  The male brought its hands down either side of Darya, knocking her from her feet. It then swiped at her with its claws, attempting to swat her. She rolled just out of reach as it struck again, but this time its claws found her forearm, smashing her wrist. She screamed out in pain as her bones shattered, then again as a follow-up swipe sent her tumbling towards the edge of the island.

  As her body slipped over, she dug the fingers of her uninjured hand into the surface of the rock and clung on with every last ounce of her strength. She screamed for help, as the muscles in her arm strained and her legs kicked frantically against the sheer rockface for purchase that wasn’t there.

  The creature crouched down beside the edge and extended its head towards her. Mouth gaping, it hissed and raised its arm.

  On the edge of the island, Callum dropped to his knee and went to fire. As his finger closed over the trigger, a hail of bullets streaked above his head and into the creature’s back. The accuracy of the hits meant only one thing: Koikov.

  The creature dropped its arm and howled in surprise. Then it turned from Darya to face Callum. Mistaking him for the source of its pain, it narrowed its eyes and charged.

  Callum opened fire. The bullets tore into the male’s flanks, stopping it momentarily in its tracks. It scratched at the bullet holes as if they were nothing more than insect bites, before leaping forward and lunging at him with its hind leg.

  He dropped to the floor, feeling the rush of air as the scythe-like claw sliced just above his head. As the creature then raised its leg to stomp on him, he fired again. He was aiming for its chest, but the bullets flew past and stung into its shoulder muscle. It was enough to send it stumbling backwards, but still not enough to stop it.

  Darya’s voice rang out suddenly: “The sacks!” she screamed. “Where he puts the eggs!”

  Callum clambered back to his feet and brought the rifle to bear on one of the pouches bulging from the creature’s chest. He fired three rounds into it, watching as it shrivelled slightly, and a viscous sap of blood and yoke oozed from the bullet holes.

  The creature bellowed with rage as he unloaded the rest of his magazine into the same pouch. It turned its body to protect the remaining eggs, but it was too late. Koikov had identified its weakness too, and another volley of rounds thudded into the opposite pouch. This one burst open like the head of a pustule, spilling a soup of blood, yoke and shell down the creature’s abdomen.

  At this, it spun around and leapt from the platform. Arms clamped tightly to its sides, it looked for a second as if it might dive straight down into the magma. Then its arms opened with a rush, spreading its wings, and it soared upwards, its body lifted on the super-heated air.

  “My fingers, they a
re slipping…”

  “Darya!” Callum raced over to the edge of the island, as she finally slid free, and made a diving grab for her hand.

  4

  Landing on his chest, Callum skidded over the edge, until only his waist and legs remained on the platform. His upper body was now dangling over the precipice and he was staring down into the magma as its breath rushed upwards to scorch his face.

  He closed his eyes and scooped his arms downwards in a desperate arc.

  Time stood still.

  He reopened his eyes to see that his hands were clamped around Darya’s wrist as she swung over the fire. Her beautiful green eyes were wide with terror, her skin tear-streaked and pale.

  “Please,” she begged him, her voice barely breaking through her sobs. “Please, Callum, do not let me go! Please!”

  His heart was pounding. His palms were slick. He was certain that she was sliding from his grip. “Hold on to me!”

  He felt her shaking fingers close tight around his wrist. Then, he unclamped one of his hands, grabbed on to her jacket and heaved with all his might.

  As his biceps curled, the thought that he might not be strong enough to lift her raced through Callum’s mind. But he blocked it out and, with a determined scream, he hauled her up into his arms. She clung tightly around his neck with her good arm, and he worked his way back up onto the island, dragging her with him.

  Time had yet to restart. For what seemed like hours, but passed like seconds, they sat there, immobilised with adrenaline, panting with exertion, locked in each other’s embrace. With her arm still wrapped around his neck, Darya finally peeled away and kissed him. He kissed her back, pushing his forehead against hers. “Remind me to never let you distract me ever again.”

  Time. A screech rang out behind them. One of the bullets had obviously damaged part of the male’s wing and it was struggling to keep itself aloft. It careered into a cluster of female creatures along the perimeter, knocking several of them off into the magma and causing the rest to scatter.

  It scrabbled a distance up the side of the wall and then propelled itself away again. Its damaged wings spread, but once more they faltered. Blood raining from its various bullet wounds, it swerved out of control back over the magma pit and made another landing, this time on a different clutch. Struggling to balance, it stumbled on the eggs, crushing most of them, sweeping others aside.

  “The eggs…” Darya panted.

  Callum knew exactly what she meant. Something was wrong. It didn’t make sense that the male could be so concerned about his eggs one minute, and then so careless about them the next… “They’re not his,” he announced suddenly.

  “What?”

  “They’re not his eggs!”

  At that moment a roar sounded and a second male scurried up from below the nest. Bigger still, it hissed furiously and faced off against the intruder. The injured male lowered its head, eyes narrowed, teeth bared, and brayed back.

  Callum had seen enough. As the two males lunged for one another across the remaining eggs, he took Darya’s hand and ran.

  They hadn’t gone far when the bellowing of the Troodon males was amplified. Looking back, Callum could see that more and more were now emerging, one for each island, clambering up onto their nests from their hiding places below. They were in a state of panic. Some were harvesting up their clutches, others were restless, taking to the wing and searching out the source of the threat.

  As they approached the incline before the exit tunnel, he could see Koikov and Ava standing shoulder to shoulder at the top. They were gesturing wildly to either side, towards the horde of female creatures flooding towards them in a pincer movement.

  “They’re going to cut us off!” he shouted, tightening his grip on Darya’s hand and going full pelt. “Run!”

  As they got closer, Koikov raised the bazooka, aiming it up above their heads. His intentions were clear.

  Ten metres away and the missile streaked over them, a thick gouge of smoke trailing in its wake. Koikov shouted to Darya.

  “He says to keep going,” she said. “He will hold them off.”

  The missile powered into the roof of the cavern. The sound of the explosion engulfed the chamber, followed by a loud rumble and a groaning sound from deep within the ridge. Next moment, the ceiling began to cave in behind them, colossal chunks of rock hailing onto the nests below.

  As they arrived at the top of the incline, the two flocks of females were almost upon them. Ava took straight off into the tunnel, her rifle lamp lighting the way. Koikov swung his arm towards her, gesturing for the others to keep running and follow on.

  As they bolted past him, he hollered something after them.

  “What did he say?” Callum shouted.

  “He says to keep going,” Darya said, as they plunged into the tunnel. “Whatever happens, just keep going!”

  Chapter 20

  Harpoon

  1

  The survivors burst into the open as a great cloud of debris blasted from the tunnel mouth. The chamber had finally collapsed, expelling whatever it could at them in one last bellow.

  “Keep going!” Callum shouted. “Don’t look back!”

  They ran for as long as they could see the world ahead, then they threw themselves to the ground and covered their heads as Hjalmar’s breath engulfed them. The air filled with dust and the island was greyed out yet again.

  They clung to one another as a deafening follow-up crash sounded and a rumble passed beneath them like an earthquake. Then, eventually, the last of the stone fragments rained to earth, the cloud began to settle and silence descended.

  Callum reopened his eyes to see an altered landscape. The plateau was strewn with stone and ice, blanketed with grey dust. He looked over at the others. Their faces and clothing were stained, their bodies covered in shards of rock.

  Slowly, he got to his feet and brushed himself down. “Anybody hurt?”

  “I’ll live,” Ava said.

  “By Harmsworth standards, that’s pretty good.” He moved his gaze to Darya.

  “I am okay,” she said. She sounded sincere. But the way she nursed her left arm betrayed that she was lying.

  “Let me see.”

  She held out her arm. The hand hung limp.

  “Can you move your fingers?”

  She winced then shook her head.

  He carefully peeled back her sleeve to reveal that the entire top half of her forearm was bruised and swollen. It was a serious injury, not one break but many. Without medical treatment he was pretty certain she would lose her hand, and Ava’s glance told him she thought likewise.

  He began removing the dressing from his leg wound.

  “What are you doing, solnishko?” Darya asked. “The bandage is for your leg.”

  “Not anymore.” He took her arm and fashioned a makeshift sling.

  She stifled a yelp of pain as he brought her forearm into her chest and finished securing the dressing. Then he fished around in his pocket, withdrew the last of his painkillers and handed them to her.

  “Poor Koikov,” Ava said. She was staring back towards the tunnel. The tunnel mouth, the rockface, everything had been replaced by an enormous slab of ice. Freed by the vibration of the rock-fall, the entire end of the Hjalmar ice cap had dropped like a colossal show curtain across the front of the ridge, burying it.

  Darya: “Do you think…”

  Callum shook his head. “Even if he survived the creatures, there’s no getting out of that tunnel.”

  “He gave his life,” Ava said.

  “He was very brave man,” Darya added.

  They stood before the glacier, bathed in silence and the reflected glare of the sun.

  “So what do we do now?”

  “I say we get the hell out of here before it turns out there’s more than one hive,” Callum said.
“We can take the hovercraft back to the compound and see if we can salvage some more fuel. Then we need to try and make it to the base at Nagurskoye.”

  “Do you know where this is?” Darya said.

  “That’s the tricky part. We’re going to have to figure it out somehow.”

  “Figure it out somehow?” Ava scoffed. “That’s the best you’ve got, Troodon-slayer?”

  “I’m all open to suggestions?”

  Ava kept quiet.

  “We’ll have to check the bodies for GPS, or at least a map,” he said at last. “I know it’s grim, but for now we just need to keep moving. Darya needs medical attention as soon as possible. More importantly, as long as we’re on Harmsworth we’re bottom of the food chain, and I don’t know about you, but I much prefer being at the top.”

  They made their way back to the hovercraft. The only damage appeared to be superficial, and they removed the debris from the interior and clambered aboard.

  “Anyone driven this thing before?” Ava asked.

  “Uh-uh.”

  “I have not.”

  “Great, me neither.”

  There was a brief silence before Callum perched himself behind the wheel and examined the control panel. It looked reasonably straightforward. Besides the steering column, there was a throttle control, presumably regulating the speed of rotation of the fan blades, a braking mechanism, pedals which seemed to control the rudders, and a whole number of other controls and gauges.

  He located what appeared to be the ignition key and turned it. To his relief, the fans roared into life and the craft rose up on its air cushion. “I’d buckle up,” he called out, bringing the craft around. “Here goes nothing.”

  He cranked the throttle and the hovercraft burst forward.