Colony by Benjamin Cross (ready player one ebook .TXT) 📗

the added advantage of allowing him to wring the neck of the motherfucker responsible for wiping out his team.

With only a split second on the clock, Koikov took final aim and fired. The rocket screamed from the launcher, spewing a thick trail of smoke behind it as it curved up and around. He held his breath.

As the first few rounds pummelled into the side of the adjacent outcrop, the rocket found its target. With a loud explosion, the tail shaft was obliterated. Red-hot shrapnel rained down onto the rock below, and the entire craft was engulfed in thick, black smoke.

Koikov slammed the launcher into the floor and let out a victorious roar. Above him, the Shark shuddered with the impact. Then it headed inland, its altitude reducing by the second.

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