by Candy Rae
The Larg kohorts at base camp had not enjoyed themselves so much for many moons. Although some of the two-legs had fought back, the vast majority had tried to run. These attempts to flee had been to no avail. The Larg could run faster. A kohort had been detailed to surround the camp and the terrified runners had run straight into their waiting mouths, teeth and claws.
Within the camp, after the initial killing spree, the kohorts played with the men still alive, taking a nip here and a bite there, and then moving on to play their favourite ‘game’.
The favourite killing method amongst the Larg was particularly messy and painful but in the Larg lexicon it came under the heading ‘Sport’. One Larg held the victim at the head; the other at the tail and whilst their victim lay there, quivering with fear, a third Larg would appear. Using his sharp claws, this Larg would quite deliberately and slowly rip open the victim’s torso. As the rent grew and as the intestines and other organs spilled out, the three would began to eat, even as the victim’s heart pumped out its few last breaths.
All but forty of the men were dead. The Larg had done their work well. True to form, they had enjoyed both their sport and their meal.
Herded into a circle, the forty survivors huddled together in the darkness, too shocked to speak. The Larg prowled around, growling threateningly as they gazed at the men out of baleful yellow eyes, as if daring them to try and make a break for freedom. Nobody did. When dawn broke, these Larg stepped back three paces and sat down, tongues lolling with excitement. This made the men even more nervous.
Aoalvaldr, the Warrior Chief of the most senior kohort, had promised them some fun with any two-legs that proved unsuitable for his purpose. They eyed the restless milling men with greed, wondering which ones would be given to them as a reward for their long night’s guard vigil. Aoalvaldr appeared, his more junior leaders in tow. A huge beast, even by Larg standards, Aoalvaldr towered over the waiting men.
Andrew Snodgrass, sometime thief and spy, viewed Aoalvaldr’s approach with a great deal of terrified trepidation. Outside their guarded circle, he could see other beasts sating their appetites on the bodies lying nearby. He shivered. Whatever they intended to do with him, he hoped that the end would be quick.
Andrew’s death however was not what was uppermost in Aoalvaldr’s mind. He was no longer hungry. An intelligent beast, he had plans for one of these two-legged creatures. He singled out Andrew.
The Larg were telepathically similar to the Lind in the north, similar but not the same. The Larg could hear thoughts and even send images to each other, although not with the same proficiency. They were descended from the same genetic gene pool many eons in the planet’s past. The Larg were larger and predominantly tawny in colour, the better to blend in with the desert sand. The Lind were, in general, smaller, with variegated and colourful stripes and patches, the better to blend in with the dense forests in which they made their homes. There the similarities ceased. The Lind were a peaceful species and lived in harmony with their surroundings, whilst the Larg were warlike and frequently at war with each other.
The Larg despised the Lind of the north with an undying hatred.
The Larg warriors had watched and taken careful note of the recent happenings in their land. They had seen the Electra arrive and had watched as the crew and their families departed at speed to the northern hills. They had watched and done nothing. The trucks they had been travelling in were beyond any of their experiences and anyway, there were not many in that strange-looking herd: they could be dealt with later. The mass of men that spilled out of the ship after they had gone was an entirely different matter. They had watched as Murdoch executed the men accused of paedophilia with approval and excitement. The Larg also disposed of their unwanted pack-mates and enemies. When the old and sick were left behind by Murdoch at base camp they lifted their heads in agreement with what the two-legged Chief Warrior had done. The Larg also did not encumber themselves on the march with those that could not keep up.
They had waited until the fit were far enough away and then pounced. They were hungry; there was not enough game that could be hunted in the harsh southern plains. The last few summers had been dry and the herds had not bred sufficiently well to provide enough food for all. So the adult males had gone northwards and had been heading towards the hills and the herds that lived there when they had come across the humans.
Plans were being laid to invade the northern continent come summer.
Aoalvaldr walked towards Andrew, placing one paw slowly one after the other in deliberate fashion and calculated to frighten. What a puny creature! The men standing next to Andrew melted away. Andrew stood motionless as the beast closed in on him, the vast menacing shape like something out of his worst nightmares.
What happened next made him soil himself in fright. Not only did Aoalvaldr open his mouth, displaying a mass of white and very sharp teeth (Andrew cringed at the sight) but also a strange harsh growling sound came out. At the same time Andrew felt his mind being invaded by an alien presence as his consciousness filled with inexplicable images. His knees began to shake.
These images were clear, and he realised at once what the Larg had been doing since the Electra landed. They had been watching and waiting. As clear as if it was a replay from a datdisc, he saw the crew and their families disembarking and then preparing the vehicles. He watched the convoy leave and wondered at the sight of a single vehicle departing in the opposite direction, into the desert. The images flew past, moving on to the convicts’ experiences.
Then the images changed, away from the overview of the convicts as a whole to ones in which he alone featured. Aoalvaldr wished to get to know Andrew for some reason; needed to learn about these creatures that had appeared out of the sky.
It was a split second decision. Andrew wanted to live. He was not a brave man, he abhorred violence and not having the skill-set that Murdoch needed had been permitted to remain behind with the old, the infirm and the unwanted.
Greatly daring, he took a single step towards Aoalvaldr and signalled his assent with a nervous nod. The great beast appeared satisfied with this gesture and began nosing Andrew away from his apprehensive peer group.
Andrew let himself be prodded towards the river, trying all the time to avoid the blood, the shreds of bodies, and the bits of bone that lay scattered around. He retched as his foot slipped then crunched on some of the detritus.
Aoalvaldr watched with amusement. This creature must learn to control himself and Aoalvaldr would make it his business to make sure he did.
The Larg encircling the remaining thirty-nine moved in for the kill. Andrew heard the anguished screams as the Larg pounced and began to play. He put his hands to his ears in a vain attempt to block out the noise, but he was unfortunately as unsuccessful at this as he was at avoiding the horrendous sights that met his eyes and crunched under his feet. Both recollections haunted his dreams for years to come.
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