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comfort him.

Lungkaju’s face was drained of colour. He dug a trembling hand into his pocket and produced a letter. “Give this to my daughter, Doctor Ross. Will you do this? Please? It is my next letter to her. My last letter.”

Callum nodded and squeezed his hand.

“Perhaps one day she can meet your son,” he whispered. “I hope for this.”

His eyelids fluttered shut, and a last breath gurgled from his ruptured throat.

“Enough!” Volkov shouted. “Now, Ms Lebedev, you will bring me the data stick. You have seen what happens when this request is denied.”

Callum could only watch as, sobbing, Darya peeled open Lungkaju’s lifeless hand and removed the data stick. His blood still warm on her fingertips, she walked across and gave the stick to Volkov.

“Finally!” he said, snatching it away and slipping it into his top pocket. He brought his pistol back up and pointed it at Darya. “And now, I am afraid Lungkaju was quite correct. It is time for us all to part company—”

Volkov lurched backwards as a bullet ricocheted off the rock at his feet. He threw his arm around Darya’s neck, digging the pistol into her side, and turned.

The hovercraft was racing towards them. Starshyna Koikov was at the helm, and he clearly had no intention of slowing down.

Volkov bellowed out in Russian. Then he took off, herding Darya ahead of him.

It was only now that Callum noticed where they were. If the helicopter had continued just another few metres, they would’ve smashed straight into the rockface at the southern tip of the ridge. The pilot had brought them down in the nick of time, landing on a wide plateau in the shadow of the cliffs.

Ahead, he could see out over the coastal basin, the faint wisps of smoke still rising from the remains of the bunker, the blotch on the moraine still clear. A short distance behind them, the ridge itself rose steeply, riven towards its summit by the crystal blue cusps of the ancient ice cap, riddled at its base with a wood-worm of caves. He watched with horror as Volkov urged Darya towards them.

The hovercraft screamed to a halt suddenly next to Callum, and Koikov leapt down, rifle poised. His gaze was stony with hate and the heat of his body steamed into the cold air.

Volkov stopped at the base of the ridge, holstered his pistol and pulled out an ornate combat knife with a savage-looking black blade. With incredible deftness, he spun it through his fingers and then pressed it against Darya’s throat. “I will make this simple. You follow, she dies a slow and painful death.”

“You carry on, you both die!” Callum shouted back. “The creatures… those caves will be crawling with them.”

Volkov looked confused. “Nonsense!”

“Volkov!”

“You follow, she dies.” He dragged Darya the last few paces towards the nearest cave. Then, with a final hate-filled glare at the three survivors, he and Darya melted away into the darkness.

Callum, Koikov and Ava stood in silence as the smoke from the grounded helicopter billowed around them. Then, without a word, Callum started forward.

“What are you doing?” Ava said.

“I don’t know,” he replied, “but I’m not leaving her.”

“But… the creatures… you’ll be killed as well, Doctor Ross… you’ve got nothing, no weapons… nothing…”

Callum felt something thrust against his arm. He looked down to see a machine gun. Koikov nodded at him and grunted. His face was streaked with blood. The scar on his cheek was flushed purple, surrounded by the start of a dense, dark brown beard.

Callum took the rifle and watched as Koikov marched over to the hovercraft. After rooting around in the hold, he produced another rifle and what looked like a bazooka cannon, then marched back over to Callum’s side.

“Ava, you stay here with the hovercraft,” Callum said. “If we’re not back in an hour then you can assume we’re dead. There might be enough fuel for you to make it to Nagurskoye.”

“Assume you’re dead? Nagurskoye? Are you kidding me?”

Callum pushed a hand back through his hair. Matted with grease, the curls caught around his fingers. “I don’t know what else to say.”

She took a deep breath. “Look, I’m coming with you, alright. You’re not the only stupid, impulsive jerk on this island.”

Eyes focussed, she took his hand. “Nobody would ever believe me about this place anyway. And besides,” she gestured towards Koikov as he slammed a magazine into his rifle, “we’re packing Special Forces.”

Callum reached out and hugged her.

Koikov snorted and spat on the floor.

Chapter 18 The Hive

1

A few paces in and the cave narrowed into a tunnel. Callum, Koikov and Ava walked in silence. Koikov, the only one with LVV, took the lead. The bazooka was slung across his back. His rifle was shouldered. Callum and Ava followed on, using Callum’s rifle lamp to light their way.

As they walked, the temperature increased until sweat lined each of their brows. There was no breeze. No through-draught. Barely any air. What there was hung still and stale. Beyond the echo of their footsteps, the only sound was a low hiss, as if the rock itself was whispering a faint warning.

After a while, the tunnel began to widen out. The combination of heat and the stink of musk was overpowering, and Callum had to fight to control his gag reflex. Beetles scurried amongst the faeces underfoot, while pale cave spiders and other creatures that would never see the midnight sun picked their way overhead.

Callum had never felt more out of place. The sights, the sounds, the smells were all so alien. Only, it wasn’t they that were unwelcome, not here, where they had survived the eons undisturbed. It was him. Himself, Koikov and Ava. They were the intruders into this ancient world.

Another few metres and a glow emerged. As they moved forward, it intensified until the tunnel was largely illuminated. Callum stopped and turned off his rifle lamp. He wiped the sweat from his face, watching as Koikov removed his LVV. The survivors shared a brief exchange of glances, all three of

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