Colony by Benjamin Cross (best way to read books .TXT) 📕

The creatures shared the briefest of glances, then they left one another’s side; the slighter creature swam around to the left, as the larger broke to the right.

Callum swallowed hard. “They’re gonna come at us from both sides,” he shouted above the growl of the motor. “Do you have anything you can use as a weapon?”

“Everything was in the bag!”

At that moment, the larger of the creatures burst forward. Callum dashed the propeller blades into the water and sliced them in an arc towards its head. At the last instant it dived. The blades tripped along its back as it bolted past, churning up a slick of blood and feathers. It resurfaced a short distance away, thrashing in agitation. Then it charged again.

Once more, Callum dragged the propeller into its path. This time it dived sooner and then burst up from below. He could feel it collide with his legs and he braced himself for pain. But there was nothing.

It re-emerged suddenly beside him. A piece of wood was protruding from its chest. He turned to see that Darya had grabbed one of the splintered oars and speared it into the creature’s armpit. Now she was fighting to hold it at bay as it raged at her, swiping for her throat with its hind claws.

“Where is the other one?” she yelled.

Callum scanned around for it, but he could see nothing, only the bobbing wreckage of the boat and the distant shoreline. As he turned back towards her, something clamped on to his foot. He kicked out with his other leg, but it was no use. He was dragged under.

The creature pulled Callum along feet first, deeper and deeper. The world was a freezing blur as the silty water rushed past his face. He stamped on the side of the creature’s head, and it reacted by shaking him and jarring its body from side to side. Already his lungs were screaming out for air. All he could think about was Jamie and Darya.

Fighting against the rush of water, he dug his hand into his pocket and forced two, three, four numbing fingers around the bolt gun. He withdrew it, pressed it into his other hand and drew back on the rear portion to open the chamber. He grabbed a bolt and attempted to load it, but the feeling had drained from his hands and he fumbled the shaft of metal against the handle.

He reached for another. This time it slid home, and he slammed the chamber back into position. He leant forward and scrabbled around. His fingers clawed over his ankle and along his boot before they met with the creature’s teeth, a dozen solid rungs protruding from the leather. He continued to scratch his way across its gum, along its snout and all the way to its eyeball, where the protective membrane twitched against his fingertips.

Sensing his intentions, the creature accelerated, dipping and rising, doing everything it could to try and throw him off balance. But Callum dug his free hand into the feathers along its nape and held on tight. Then, with one jerk of his hand, he pressed the barrel of the gun up to its eyeball and fired.

The jaws cramped. He could feel its bite crushing into his foot and pain forced the last of the fading breath from his body. Then, just as quickly, the jaws relaxed and he was free to make for the surface.

He burst up out of the surf. The air hitting the back of his throat was pure ecstasy and the world went on hold as he drank in lungful after precious lungful. As he worked to regain himself, there was a splash beside him and the creature bobbed to the surface, blood pouring from its eye.

Callum backed away in horror, as the creature turned towards him before rolling over onto its back, thrashing weakly. It called out in a series of pitiful wails, which lapsed into clicks and then, finally, into silence.

“Callum!”

He could see Darya a hundred metres away, waving an oar frantically above her.

His mind raced. The other creature must have grabbed her. The image of its teeth sinking into the soft flesh of her ankles overtook him and he set off swimming towards her.

He had taken his first few strokes when he became conscious of her calls once more. His brain was sluggish with cold, but it was telling him that they weren’t the screams of somebody in pain. They were warnings. Warning screams. He stopped and strained to make out her words.

“It comes to you! Please, Callum! It comes to you!”

Halfway between the two of them, the second creature broke the surface of the water and bellowed into the air. Responding to the calls of its dying sibling, it was heading his way fast, tearing through the water like a shark about to breach. There was no chance that he could outswim it or make the shore. In his scrabble for air he had dropped the bolt gun, leaving him defenceless, and he could feel the extreme cold sapping the last of his energy. He brushed his hands over his jacket in a vain attempt to find a weapon, something, anything that he could use in a last-ditch defence. But there was nothing.

The creature had closed the gap to only a few metres. Its eyes were milky pale where the membranes had closed, protecting them against the rush of brine. As it bore down on him, Callum did the only thing he could and closed his eyes.

He waited.

Nothing.

When he reopened his eyes he could see that the creature had stopped dead only a couple of metres in front of him, sending a pulse of water slapping into his face. Blood seeped from its back where he had caught it with the propeller. The membranes had retracted from its eyes, replaced by a look of unmistakeable confusion.

As he looked on, it burst back into life, scrabbling and fighting, not against him, but against some invisible enemy. What