Colony

  He waved his hand weakly. “Can’t really feel it anymore. Whole body’s pretty numb.”

  Ava knelt next to Darya and began trying to tend the wound. “You told us it was nothing!”

  “It is nothing,” he replied. “You’re gonna be safe. That’s all that matters.” He grabbed her hands in his. “There’s nothing more you can do.”

  She ripped her hands away and kept going, wiping at the crust of dried blood around his stomach with her sleeve. Patiently, Peterson took her hands again and held them tightly. “Like I said, I don’t want sympathy or forgiveness, Ava. I’ve done wrong and now I’m gonna pay the price. This is the right thing.”

  “What if we take both vehicles?” she said, ignoring him and looking to Callum once more. “We can use the submarine to navigate and follow on in the hovercraft.” She pushed a hand through Peterson’s hair. “We can take you with us. You can get treated—”

  “I wish it was that simple,” he said. “Thing is, the only doctors can help me are on the mainland, over a thousand miles away. Besides which, Nagurskoye’s about two hundred miles west, and that’s if you don’t have to dodge any ice floes along the way.”

  “So?”

  “So,” he motioned towards the hovercraft, “I doubt whether you’ll get any more than forty knots out of that thing, that’s forty-six miles per hour, give or take. And that means that if we left now and made full speed the whole time, it would still take us what? Four hours?”

  “So what’s wrong with that?” Ava said. “Let’s stop talking about it and do it!”

  Callum couldn’t take it any longer. He stepped forward and placed his hand gently on Ava’s shoulder. “Ava, Dan doesn’t have four hours. Even if he did, there’s nothing the medics at Nagurskoye could do for him.”

  There was silence as the truth of his words sank in.

  “What then?” she shouted. “We’re gonna just leave him here and save our own skins? You may hate him, Doctor Ross, but he saved us, remember? He got the three of us off that ship before it blew. He’s sorry for what he did, okay? We need to help him! Doctor Ross? Doctor Lebedev?”

  “I started this whole thing,” Peterson told her. “No matter what monsters live in this place, Harmsworth is my creation. Doctor Ross is right. Everything you’ve suffered here is down to me. I need to see this one through.”

  As if in response, a loud screech emanated from inland. Darya and Ava jumped to their feet as a chorus rang out in reply, and all four of the survivors stared back towards the top of the low bluffs around the cove.

  “They sound far away.”

  Another, louder chorus went up.

  “Not anymore,” Callum said. “They’re getting closer. They must have our scent.”

  Peterson: “You need to leave, now.”

  “Dan!” Ava screamed, latching on to his hand.

  He pulled her towards him and kissed her. Their lips lingered together, before another even closer bellow tore them apart.

  “Ava, please, you’ve got to go.”

  “We’re not leaving you!”

  Darya took her arm. “Ava—”

  “No!” She shrugged her off.

  “Ava…”

  “Nam Myoho Renge Kyo, Nam Myoho Renge Kyo, Nam Myoho Renge Kyo, Nam Myoho Renge Ky—”

  There was a loud cracking sound.

  5

  Ava screamed and stumbled backwards. Her eyes wide with shock, she held her hands to her face. At her feet, Peterson went into spasm. His whole body tensed and shook violently. His jaw clenched and his eyes bulged. His hands were clamped tightly around the discharged harpoon gun, still aimed up under his chin.

  When the sight finally registered, Callum could see that the bolt had pierced straight through the arc of flesh beneath Peterson’s jaw. It had travelled up through his tongue, through the thin stretch of bone forming the roof of his mouth and into his brain.

  His paroxysm continued. The last of his blood coursed from the wound, spreading out over his chest in thick lobes; it trickled from the corners of his mouth as his body stole a last few breaths. Then he was still.

  Ava screamed and threw herself down onto his body. The bottom of the harpoon still projected from beneath his chin, and in desperation she tugged at it. But it was lodged firmly, right where he had intended it, deep inside his skull.

  Ava dry retched. Then she placed her head on his chest and wept.

  “Ava, we’ve got to go,” Callum said. “I’m sorry, but we’ve got to leave him.”

  When she still didn’t move, he had no option but to reach down and drag her up onto her feet. She screamed and struggled, elbowing him in the ribs. But he held on to her.

  “Ava!”

  She stopped fighting at last and looked around at him.

  “Don’t let it be for nothing.”

  Gradually, Callum loosened his grip on her, until she stood next to him, shaking but unaided. Then he bent down, removed Dan’s glasses and placed them on his chest, before gently sliding his eyelids shut.

  6

  There was no time to dwell on Peterson’s suicide. His sacrifice had been for them and now they needed to make the most of it. With the baying of the creatures in their ears once more, the survivors hurried out along the narrow spit of rock and clambered over into the submarine.

  Callum slipped into the operator’s chair and quickly took stock of the controls. The console looked ten times more daunting than that of the hovercraft: a chaos of switches, dials, gauges, lights and levers, all centred on an angular steering wheel, like that of a race car. With the other two crushed into the storage space behind the seat, he fought to recall Peterson’s instructions.

  “First you’ll need power. This ain’t no go-kart we’re talking about, so there’s nothing as basic as an ignition key. What there is is a lever, right of the steering wheel…”

  With several to choose from, Callum took hold of the most conspicuous lever, depressed the thumb-button and eased it forward. To his relief, there was a whirring sound as the sub powered up. Lights came on around the control panel and the on-board computer screen initiated. It flashed up a number of status bars at regular intervals, presumably relating to fuel, battery, compressed oxygen and other finite reserves. Though the annotations were in Russian, all of the levels looked comfortably high.

  An electronic voice boomed into the cabin.

  “What did it say?” he asked Darya.

  “He says that the life support systems are on standby. Temperature is set to fifteen degrees.”

  The electronic voice sounded again and the screen turned into a numeric keypad.

  “Now he says to enter destination coordinates.”

  “Shit, I’ve no idea. Isn’t there a map search function?”

  Darya leant forward and tapped at the touch screen with her good hand. After a few tries, a map flashed up and zoomed in on what Callum recognised as the Franz Josef Land archipelago. As she continued typing, a crosshair appeared over Alexandra Land, an island to the west. The Nagurskoye outpost was located at the northern tip.

  “That’s it!” he shouted.

  “Next you’ll wanna unhitch yourself from the rock. Near as I could tell, there’s a lever, bottom left of the console…”

  “There should be a lever that releases the anchors.” Callum pointed to the row of switches bottom left. “I think it’s one of these. Can you read the labels?”

  Darya scanned across them, mouthing the words written in small black letters beneath each. Her hand came to rest beside the one furthest left. “Anchor engage, disengage,” she read, lifting the guard flap and flipping the revealed switch. There was a crunching sound as the two anchor arms detached themselves from the rock and retracted back within the body of the sub.

  They were floating. No longer stabilised, the craft began swaying on the surface of the water.
>
  “Look!” Ava shouted, pointing back towards the beach.

  The three of them stared towards shore. A single female creature peered back from on top of the bluffs. Eyeing the craft with interest, she raised her head and called out. Her heated breath beat into the air, and within seconds an entire horde had flocked to her side.

  “This thing’s hi-tech, so there’s no dive function. Way I figure it, you’ll just take her down using the steering. The air supply, CO2 filter and dehumidifier systems must be sensor-activated. Soon as the ballast tanks start to flood I’ll wager they come on automatic…”

  “Let’s hope you’re right,” Callum whispered.

  The first of the Troodons had leapt the five or six metres from the top of the rocks and smashed into the shingle. Regaining its balance, the creature shook its feathers and called out once again. One by one, the others followed, raining down like meteors onto the shore beside her.

  Callum nudged the throttle forward. The side fins extended and the sub began to move.

  “You must hurry!” Darya shouted.

  Ignoring Peterson’s corpse, the creatures raced straight to the edge of the water. One after another they dived in, their streamlined bodies coursing towards the sub.

  Callum lifted the steering wheel and the nose dipped down into the water.

  “It’s working!” Within seconds the craft was fully submerged, and there was a loud hiss as the life support systems kicked in. The world ahead was clear for a distance of ten metres or so, after which it was a murky blur.

  Callum eased the throttle up another few increments and they began to gather speed: ten… fifteen… twenty knots…

  Something collided with the stern.

  Ava screamed out.

  …thirty knots…

  The craft shook as another impact sounded. Claws scraped against the exterior panelling and a warning siren went off, sending the cabin into chaos.

  “Go!” Darya leant forward, grasped Callum’s hand in hers and shoved the throttle to maximum.

  The sub’s engine roared. Its thrusters flared and the craft burst forward.

  Chapter 21

  Loch Ness

  1

  Callum was forced back into his chair, struggling to control the sub as it tore through the narrow gap between the cove’s headlands and sped out to sea. The force of the acceleration was incredible. Within seconds, the speed dial was registering seventy… eighty… ninety knots and climbing.

  On the GPS navigation monitor, he could see the little white blip leaving the shores of Harmsworth behind. Then the auto-guidance system took over, rotating them smoothly onto a westerly bearing. He held his breath. Time seemed to rush past on the slipstream.

  “Have we lost them?” Ava shouted.

  Darya turned and peered out through the rear screen. “I think, yes,” she replied at last. “I cannot see them now. We are too fast.”

  “You can say that again!” Callum said.

  By now, their speed was just under 110 knots, 127 miles per hour. Callum was sweating with the effort of holding them level. But they were doing it. They were escaping.

  He waited another thirty seconds before finally easing off on the throttle.

  Ninety knots… eighty knots… seventy… sixty… fifty…

  At around forty knots, he released the throttle lever and maintained speed. The warning siren faded out and, besides the low hum of the engine, only Ava’s sobbing now broke the silence in the cabin.

  They cruised on without a word, until, gradually, the new reality began to sink in: Harmsworth was behind them. The realisation overcame Callum in a sudden rush. It was unlike anything that he had ever felt before. In that instant, everything that had happened, all the pain, all the heartache, all the horror, was forgotten, and he threw his head back and howled with joy.

  Behind him Darya joined in. Her broken wrist must have hurt like hell. But that too was forgotten as she reached her good arm across his chest and kissed him again and again and again until the side of his face was numb.

  They cruised on. Every metre between themselves and the island felt like a million miles.

  Still hugging on to Callum, Darya pointed to the navigation screen. “Look.”

  His gaze moved to the digital map and he smiled.

  “Ava, you must come and see,” Darya said.

  Ava leant forward, wiping at her eyes, and peered over Callum’s shoulder. Her sudden laughter surprised all three of them.

  Cheek to cheek, the survivors watched as the final, pixelated crags of Harmsworth Island crept towards the edge of the monitor and then disappeared from sight.

  2

  The journey to Nagurskoye sapped the last of Callum’s strength. While Darya and Ava quickly succumbed to sleep, he forced himself to remain awake, clutching the flat, white pebble tightly in his hand. The sub’s auto-guidance system navigated them westwards, weaving in between the islands. Still Callum kept alert. After everything they’d survived, he was determined not to take either the technology or the last few hundred miles of Arctic Ocean for granted.

  Hours passed. Fatigue set in. In the silence of the cabin, his joy began to wane and in its place came uncertainty. Harmsworth was behind them. No more creatures. No more Volkov. But there was more to come. As well as survivors, the three of them were now the only remaining witnesses to the loss of a manned icebreaker. And an entire Spetsnaz contingent. People would want answers. Not just any people. Powerful people. Government people. And they would not like the answers. He tried not to think about it. In this remote and unforgiving landscape, survival came at a high price.

  Ten miles from Alexandra Land, they received a transmission. Callum roused Darya, who listened intently to the message and then began to reply.

  “It is the base,” she reported. “They see us on radar. They want for us to stop and go to the surface, then they send a boat for us.”

  On her advice, Callum eased the throttle right back and took them cautiously up.

  As the sub’s nose broke through the surface, they emerged into a breathtaking world. The surrounding water was speckled with icebergs. The summer’s warmth had sculpted them into supernatural forms, hunched figures, Celtic swirls and precarious forked spires dripping with melt-water; they glistened as they drifted in their thousands, in eerie silence across the brine.

  Beyond them, the southern horizon was studded with islands. A hundred Harmsworths, each with secrets of its own, their glaciated peaks perched on nests of ice-free tundra. And far off to the north, the edges of the northern ice sheet sat patiently, waiting for winter to spread it back across the sounds.

  “Isn’t that something,” Ava said.

  Callum and Darya kept silent, gazing at the scene before them in awe.

  “I guess this is what Dan was fighting for.”

  When the frontier boat arrived, the three of them were ordered from the sub at gunpoint. They were then transported the last few miles to the base, with the White Squall in tow.

  En route, Darya tried again and again to explain their situation, but the guards were clearly not taking any chances. They kept their mouths closed, their sympathies to themselves, and their weapons trained on the three unknown quantities and their improbable tale.

  3

  Mainland Russia

  Callum awoke. He was lying in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. The last thing he remembered was leaving the mainland hospital in a people carrier with blacked-out windows. After that, nothing.

  The room was obviously under surveillance, because no sooner had the soles of his feet hit the floor, than somebody was at his door. The smartly dressed woman was holding a mug of coffee and a change of clothes, and he gratefully accepted both.

  “You are need anything else today, Doctor Ross?”

  “Can I speak to my son?”

  “Soon. T
here is meal for you in one hour.”

  She smiled briefly and pulled the door closed.

  To his right, daylight was streaming in through the frosted windows, blanketing the sofa within the embayment. He moved into its path, took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He welcomed the rays’ warmth, their cleansing effect on his skin. After living with the midnight sun for the last month, he was unnerved to find himself still relishing the kiss of sunlight. By all logic, he should have been craving darkness. But he had the feeling that from now on it was the dark that was going to be a problem for him.

  He seated himself at the table in the centre of the room and surveyed the fragmented canvas cityscape on the wall opposite. The shelves around it were set with decorative bottles and other awkward ornaments. Nothing quite fit. Nothing matched. The whole setup was a far cry from the comforting sense of homely that was the obvious intention. Of course, it didn’t help that he could see that the doors and windows were firmly locked.

  He took an uncoordinated slurp of coffee, then stood up again and approached the mirror on the back of the bathroom door. He hardly recognised the face staring back at him. The overgrown stubble, which he had last glimpsed in the bottom of his whiskey glass on board the Albanov, had blossomed into a beard. Brindle and lank, it was every bit as unbecoming as his greasy hair. His lips were cracked, the skin on his face was taut and grey, despite being tanned, and his eyes looked sunken. If there had been anyone else with him, he might have attempted a hangover joke, if only to stave off his growing sense of unease. But he was alone in the room, the large, spotless bedsit, wherever it might have been.

  A sudden thought occurred to him and he walked over to the pile of clothes at the foot of his bed and rifled through his jacket pockets. Everything was gone. Ngana’bta’s flint blade. The letter for Lungkaju’s daughter. The fossilised tooth. Everything. He felt around his neck for the tooth pendant. But it too was gone. The only thing left was the quartz pebble, which he snatched up in both palms and brought to his chest.