Battleship Raider by Paul Tomlinson (best e reader for manga TXT) 📕

tumbling off the walkway. Then it began chopping away at the walkway like a demented woodcutter. When it reached the halfway point, my section of walkway lurched and angled downwards a few inches on one side. I gripped the handrail. I had to do something. I was still clutching the fire axe. I swung it at the glass window in the door. The blade bounced off without leaving a mark. It had to be strong enough to withstand rapid depressurisation when the hangar doors were opened. My puny axe wasn’t going to do much damage. But I tried a few more whacks anyway.

The robot’s chopping was much more effective. A few more well-placed blows and the walkway was cut all the way across. It sagged downwards about eight inches at the end nearest the robot, supported only by the bolts in the metal wall. I glanced towards the brackets that were the only things between me and the jaws of death. There were four stout bolts fixing each bracket to the wall. They were all holding. For now.

The robot looked down at the sagging walkway. It couldn’t step onto it and get any closer to me because the damaged walkway wouldn’t support its weight. If the bolts held, the robot and I were stuck in a sort of stalemate. It lifted one foot slowly and moved it forward towards the unsupported section of the walkway. It pressed down with the foot. My section sagged downwards some more, and when the robot lifted its foot the floor didn’t come all the way back up again. It was sagging down about a foot now. The robot put its foot forward again. This time he pressed down and released several times, bouncing the walkway up and down. Whether it was trying to shake me loose or snap the bolts, I didn’t know. Each bounce caused the walkway to bend downwards a little more.

On the deck below, the dragon was looking up and snarling. ‘Get on with it – I’m hungry!’

Another bounce and one of the bolts snapped with a loud crack! It was the outermost bolt of the bracket over the deck.

Bounce. Bounce. Crack! Another of the outer bolts snapped.

Bounce. Crack! Crack! All of the outside bolts were gone. With a grinding and metallic screeching, the walkway twisted and tilted. It dropped three feet on the outside. As I desperately tried to cling on with both hands, I had to let the fire axe go, watching it slide over the edge and fall. I knew the bolts in the other bracket must fail soon. If the walkway fell, there was nothing for me to cling onto. The robot would watch as I dropped – and then give the thumbs-down, ordering the dragon in for the kill.

The sounds of tortured metal continued, the walkway dipping lower and lower, not needing any encouragement from the robot now.

Crack! A bolt shot out of the wall, fired outwards like a bullet. I felt it skim passed my left arm. It was lucky it missed me – I might have been hurt.

The walkway dipped down even further. Inevitably, the other bolts snapped. The walkway fell.

The dragon roared. The walkway crashed down on top of the dragon. This cushioned the impact – but only a little. But it didn’t matter. As the walkway fell, I launched myself into the air. I flipped over and to the right, avoiding the falling metalwork. I hit the deck with my knees bent and rolled. Graceful as a cat.

I glanced towards the dragon. It was moving under the fallen walkway – stunned but not dead. The robot was standing on the truncated walkway looking down at me. It stepped off the edge and when its feet hit the deck it felt like an earthquake. Graceful as a refrigerator.

The robot stomped towards me, raising the cleaver.

With a roar, the dragon heaved the metalwork off its back. It stood assessing the situation for a moment. The dragon launched itself up onto the robot’s back.

Dragon versus robot. It was a scene from a video game. The dragon clung to the robot’s back, wrapping its tail around the robot’s middle and trying to bite into its shoulder and head. I would have loved to see how this celebrity deathmatch ended – but I thought my time would be better spent escaping while they were both distracted. I took off at a sprint, heading for the doors through which the dragon had made its entrance.

A shadow passed overhead. Something heavy hit the deck in front of me. The dragon. The robot had thrown it, using it to stop my escape. I skidded to a halt – ready to go on if the dragon didn’t move. Dead or just stunned, I would run around it. It uncurled itself and I distinctly heard the sound of bones popping as it stood and flexed its spine. It looked down at me and did the roaring thing. I was close enough to smell how bad its breath was. Close enough to die. It leapt forward. There was nothing I could do except brace for impact.

I fell backwards under the force of it. I felt claws digging into my legs, pinning me down. The dragon raised its head, bellowing triumphantly. Then it opened its jaws wide and dipped down towards my head, thick poisonous saliva hanging in strings from its pus-yellow tongue. It was going to chew my face off.

The robot’s blade flashed down, cleaving the dragon’s head in two. I was showered with foul-smelling blood and bits of brain matter. It didn’t taste anything like chicken. As it died, the dragon voided its bladder and bowels on me. A final indignity.

I was pinned down under the dragon’s dead weight. The robot jerked its blade free from the beast’s skull. It raised the blade, blood dripping from it. My skull was next in line for splitting. I was going to die. And in my last moment of life, I vowed that I would