Tim Lebbon - Kong - Skull Island

The Skull Devil lashed out with its tail, Kong ducked and launched himself forward, and they clashed.

Conrad splashed on as the boat powered in as far as they dared, and soon all but Weaver were within hailing distance of Marlow’s vessel.

“Nice to see you, fellas!” Brooks shouted, still positioned behind the .50 cal and looking for a clear shot.

“Feeling’s mutual!” Marlow shouted. “Hope you’re looking after my boat.”

“Weaver, hurry!” Conrad shouted. He wasn’t sure whether she heard, but she continued scrambling down the rocks, leaping from boulder to boulder with dangerous abandon. She had no choice; Conrad knew that, and she did too. Kong stood between them all and certain death, and this was a race against time.

As Slivko and the others waded out and started climbing aboard the boat, Conrad saw Kong give the Skull Devil a massive kick that sent it reeling. Its tail whipped out and Kong ducked the sharp, pointed end… but then its long mass wrapped around his waist, squeezed, and threw him to the ground. He smashed down onto the shipwrecked boat once again, roaring in pain when he landed. He flailed his arms to right himself, but the ship’s rigging and an anchor chain were tangled around one arm and his legs.

Kong paused for an instant, taking in the scene.

The monster’s sharp tail lashed out again and scored Kong across his hip and stomach. He screamed and tried to grab onto the tail, but it slicked through his hand, flicking out and slashing him across his palm. Blood flew in a rainbow arc.

“Brooks!” San shouted on the boat, and a second later Brooks opened fire with the heavy machine-gun. Bullets streaked across the marshland and stitched the Skull Devil’s back, and as he shifted his aim up towards his head—

—the weapon jammed.

The Skull Devil whirled around and faced the boat. It snarled and hunched down, every inch the devil, blood flowing freely from many wounds, teeth dripping with it, and Conrad knew it was seconds away from its final charge.

“Uh, Marlow, little help?” Brooks said.

Marlow scrambled across the boat to the gun and started tinkering.

“She always was a little temperamental. Hey, Reles, gimme a hand!”

Conrad clung onto the boat’s railing but didn’t pull himself up. He looked across to Weaver, almost at the base of the rock formation yet still too far away. She’d never make it in time.

The Skull Devil was paused now, looking back at the defenceless Kong, then out at the boat once again. It was weighing its options. He sensed that awful intelligence again as it decided which enemy it wanted to destroy first.

It seemed to lock eyes with him as it made up its mind.

“It’s coming,” he said, more to himself than everyone else. He made a decision. He wasn’t certain that it was brave. He’d never considered himself a brave man, but rather someone good at getting the job done. As the Skull Devil splashed through the marsh towards the boat, Conrad let go of the railing and dropped back into the water. He swam as far as he could, crawled quickly back onto the marshy land, and ran away from the boat. He fired several shots at the beast as he went, eager to draw its attention.

It shook its head as bullets pricked above its eyes, then turned to look at him.

“I’ll keep it busy!” he shouted, still running. “You go!” He didn’t hear any response, and did not risk glancing back. He only hoped they’d be wise enough to take the chance he was offering them.

He continued shooting as he went, short, careful bursts that each found their mark. He aimed for its eyes. If he hit them, it did nothing to slow the monster down. It was coming for him. That had been his intention, but now he had seconds to live. He scanned the ground ahead of him, seeing nowhere to hide. He stepped into a deeper area of marsh and went down, gripping the rifle as he went under the stinking water. It flooded into his mouth and he gagged, puking as he struggled to his feet again, running, spitting vomit and rank marsh water aside as he went, firing his pistol back over his shoulder and holding the rifle in his other hand.

He risked one glance back to see the boat cutting through the water away from the shore.

Then a spark of light lit up in the distance, and a flare arced in and struck the Skull Devil on the back of its head.

It skidded to a stop, throwing up a wave of mud and water. As it shook its head and turned around, Weaver fired a second flare that wavered through the air and hit it on the right leg.

Conrad fired a long, sustained shot into the back of its head just below what might have been an ear. His M-16 ran dry and he threw it aside, firing his pistol again.

Past the monster he could see Weaver, halfway between the rock and the shore, feeling across her belt for more flares but finding nothing there. They were both out.

The Skull Devil looked back and forth between them, confused about which one to go for. With so many enemies now almost helpless, it was spoilt for choice.

Conrad fired his last three rounds and it came for him, tail raised and ready to slam him into the ground. He grabbed his last grenade.

From his left, a great shape rose out of the marsh. It was Kong, ripping himself partly free of the wreck, tugging on a heavy chain that still held him down, and then swinging it up and around, the rusted propeller tangled in its end performing a perfect arc into the Skull Devil’s side.

It slashed the monster and flung it sideways across the marsh, smashing into the rock pile Weaver had just left. Its tail flipped around, and Conrad’s breath caught in his throat as he saw Weaver struck and sent spinning fifty feet into the sea.

Her body struck the waves and went under.

“No!” he shouted as the same wave knocked him down. There was nothing he could do. He was too far away, and he couldn’t tell whether anyone on the boat had seen what was happening.

Finding his feet, Conrad started making his way back towards the shore. She would drown before he got there. That, or some unseen beast would rise from the depths and take her away beneath the waves.

All he could do was try.

Kong had also noticed, and Conrad was shocked by the change in the giant ape. His fury seemed to seep away in a flash, and he took a first huge step towards where Weaver had disappeared beneath the surface. He remembered standing atop that ridge and Kong appearing before them from down in the valley, Weaver reaching out and touching his face, and even then thinking that some sort of contact had been made. That connection seemed even more obvious now.

With Kong’s attention distracted, the Skull Devil grabbed the advantage. Ignoring its terrible wounds, it pulled itself upright and charged the ape.

Conrad looked across at the boat, bobbing now closer to shore, and the men trying to fix the machine-gun on its deck. While Marlow struggled to fit a new ammo belt, Reles snatched up a big hammer and gave the gun two heavy whacks that echoed across the marsh.

They paused, then Reles opened fire once again.

The rounds slammed into the charging Skull Devil, driving it back and down. Wounds upon wounds, it seemed at last that the gunfire was having an effect. The monster writhed in the marshy ground, struggling to turn away from the volley of gunfire but succeeding only in presenting its other flank. Reles was a good shot, and very few bullets missed. Conrad could sense that much as the Skull Devil wanted to flee this stinging fusillade, the fight with Kong was a greater draw.

Meanwhile, Kong had taken full advantage of the Skull Devil being incapacitated. With two huge bounds he was at the water’s edge, bending down, reaching into the sea.

Conrad could only stand and watch; amazed and terrified.