The Gastropoda Imperative - Peter Barns (i like reading books .TXT) 📗

circular ducting, three quarters filled with what looked like big filters. There was enough room to squeeze down the side of the filters, which Piers did. The others followed, coughing at the dust they dislodged from the metal.

A short way into the ducting, Lyra saw Piers’ lamp blink out and had a moment of panic - but it quickly reappeared and she could see that it was illuminating an exit in the side of the ducting. He had just stepped out through the hatch for a moment and was now lighting the way for them. Lyra pushed her way passed another set of filters, wondering how Piers new about the existence of such a place.

Tumbling out of the ducting through the inspection hatch, they all crowded together in a small room, holding the two remaining lanterns high while Piers locked the hatch back in place.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Lyra looked around. But then her eyes widened and she grabbed Troy’s arm. “Where’s that Conal guy and Kirsti?” she asked.

“Last time I saw him, he was chasing down the beach after her,” Troy said. Although he tried to hide the tremble in his voice, it crept in. They looked at one another, knowing that one of them would have go back out and look for them, but all unwilling to step forward.

“I’ll go and get them,” Piers said, unlocking the hatch. “I’ve got my armour on.”

“Yeah Piers, that’s right. You’ve got your armour on, so you can be the big brave knight riding to the damsel in distress. You go and get them.” Troy’s attempt at humour fell flat.

Lyra walked over to Piers and held on to his arm. “Please be careful Piers. Promise me that you won’t do anything silly.”

Piers nodded quickly, then turned away. None of them missed the red flush on his cheeks.

Once Piers had disappeared through the hatch, Troy slammed the cover back in place, throwing the catches with far more force than was necessary.

“What now?” Betts asked, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth.

“Guess we wait,” Lee said.

***

Conal reacted instinctively when the Sycler landed on his head, moving faster than he’d ever done before, ripping the creature from his skin before it could wriggle its way underneath his scalp.

Tossing it to the ground, he stamped on it and gave a shudder of revulsion. Then he turned and ran along the beach as fast as his legs would carry him, all thought of trying to help Kirsti gone from his mind because she was far beyond his help now. Conal wasn’t one to panic but he ran as though the very hounds of hell were on his heels - and in a sense they were.

Having finished recycling Kirsti, the Syclers were heading back to their nest, which was situated in the room called The Pit.

Chapter 31

Payne checked his co-ordinates against the map displayed on his tablet and grunted in satisfaction. The cottage should be on the other side of the field he was skirting. Using one of the fence post as an aid, he climbed over the wires, careful not to get his clothes snagged on the wicked looking barbs.

Crossing the field in a crouch, Payne ran across the deep furrows and clambered over the far fence. He stood listening for few minutes, studying the scene, his training taking over again.

The cottage was laid out over two floors, the top one low ceilinged. Payne had stayed in a similar one as a child up in Scotland, so he had a rough layout in his mind. A car was parked on a grass strip alongside the track that led up to the cottage off the main road. A narrow concrete footpath cut through the garden to the front door. Leaning against the cottage wall was a grass rake, and a plastic bucket half-filled with dead leaves. By the door stood a red plastic container, with the word ‘mower’ written across it in thick black marker pen.

Payne moved across the garden to his left, keeping away from the right-hand window, which was glowing with light. Attached to the wall by the corner of the cottage, he spotted what he was looking for. Pinching the thin grey cable between finger and thumb, he pulled it away from the wall. A series of small plastic cable clips broke away from the their fixing pins, leaving a loop of wire hanging down. Grasping the loop, he tugged it sharply. The telephone cable parted from the connection box with a sharp snapping sound.

Payne stood like a statue, tense, listening. A dog barked somewhere in the distance and he licked his lips watching the shadows being caste across the garden from inside the brightly lit room. From the shadows he could see that there were at least two people in the cottage.

Working his way around the perimeter of the building, Payne found a door at the rear. It was unlocked. Easing the small pistol from its ankle holster, Payne pushed open the door and stepped into the cottage.

***

Conal knew the cave was up ahead somewhere, but with no lamp to light his way, he was worried he might run straight passed it. Gaining control over his panic, his slowed to a fast walk, recovering his breath. The creatures couldn’t keep up with a fast walking man. He had nothing to worry about,

Conal licked his lips, his mouth had suddenly turned very dry. He took a deep breath, rubbing the back of one hand across his eyes. His hand banged against his nose, but it didn’t hurt. He was thankful, because it had been throbbing like hell earlier. He was sweating badly now.

Conal shouted as he plunged into the sea, gulping for breath as the cold water had him standing on his toes. He’d lost all sense of direction. Surely he’d been walking along the edge of the rocks, not the shoreline?

Stopping for a moment to look around, Conal frowned, rubbing his temples. Nothing seemed familiar anymore - except the buzzing in his ears that had suddenly started. It reminded him of the fly trap used in his local café, the type that killed with a loud sizzling zap and a stink of burning bodies.

A sudden shadow appeared against the sea on his left and he froze, hunkering down on the beach. He stared into the dark but could see nothing. Walking towards where he’d seen the shadow, he looked down at the sand.

Footprints, heading back towards the boats.

Conal smiled, looking skyward. Then his eyes turned up into his head and he collapsed onto his back on the sand.

Farther back along the beach, hundreds of orange Syclers finished the last of the blood and bones that had been a young, bubbly girl at the beginning of her life, and turned as one towards the cave and the man laying on the sand waiting for them.

***

Piers ran from the cave onto the beach. He had no lantern, so when the clouds chose that moment to cover the moon, what little light there was disappeared. Not stopping for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, he ran along the beach searching for Conal, calling the man’s name over and over.

In the short time he’d known Conal, Piers had come to like and trust him. He couldn’t leave him out here in the night to die alone. It was enough that the aliens had taken his mother. They would not have his new friend.

Suddenly the beach beneath Pier’s feet seemed to boil. He’d got his night vision back now and could just make out the orange bodies erupting from the sand all around him. They had already covered his feet and begun slithering their way up his legs. Heart hammering in his chest, he turned and rushed for the sea. It was the only thing he could think of that might save his life. If he could get there before the aliens had worked their way up to the top of his tin can protection, he might be able to wash them off.

Diving into the sea, Piers rolled over and over, splashing and swirling his legs in the cold water. Looking down he saw that he’d been successful and breathed a long sigh of relief.

Standing up, he watched the orange bodies being tossed about in the waves, and for a moment felt a lightness in his heart. Then he turned towards the shore to continue his search. He had to find Conal, and quickly. The aliens were much nearer to the cave than he had expected.

But before he’d taken his first step, Piers felt a bite on the back of his leg. Reaching down, he tugged the fat, slimy creature from his skin and dropped it in the sea. Blood stained his hand black in the moonlight and he felt tears of frustration fill his eyes as another bite stung his other leg. Turning this way and that, Piers desperately looked for the alien but he was too late, it had already eaten its way into the muscle of his leg.

Feeling the anaesthetic beginning to take effect, Piers stumbled along the shore towards the cave, his pounding heart pumping more and more of the venom through his veins.

Chapter 32

Lyra, Troy and Betts were sitting around a table in the canteen talking, their last working lantern set between them.

“What are we going to do when the light goes?” Lee asked in a quiet voice.

That question had been foremost in all their minds, but Troy didn’t appreciate it being brought out into the open. “Guess we have to make a run for the boat. We can’t stay here in the dark. We can’t stay here anyway. We’ll starve to death.” He sighed, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. “What a stupid idea, getting caught in here like this. We should have stayed outside and gone for the boat.”

“Where’s Lee?” Betts asked.

“Think he went to find the toilets,” Troy said.

“The water’s working? Well that’s good isn’t it?”

“Guess it comes over from the mainland or something.”

Lyra gave a startled cry when the overhead lights suddenly came on and somewhere along the corridor, a large fan started up. The door to the canteen swung open and Lee came in with a big smile on his face.

“Who’s the daddy then?” he said, standing with his arms spread wide, wriggling his eyebrows.

“You did that?” Betts asked, a note of doubt in her voice.

“Of course.”

“My hero!” Betts jumped up and ran across, giving him a big hug.

Lee leant down and kissed her.

“Okay. Enough with the kissing,” Lyra laughed, getting up. Crossing to the sink, she filled the kettle and switched it on. Then rummaging around in the cupboards, she came up with a large jar of instant coffee. Unscrewing the lid, she sniffed the contents. looking at the label. Shrugging, she turned to the others. “Says here that its five years old, but it should still be okay. Shall we try it?”

Five minutes later they were all back around the table, clutching hot cups of black coffee. Instant had never tasted so good to Lyra before and she savoured every mouthful.

“They’ve been out there a long time,” Betts said.

“Yes, I was just thinking the same thing,” Lee agreed.

They all looked around - at the ceiling; the table; their fingers; anywhere but at one another. Lee finally put his cup down, turning it slowly on the table. He coughed quietly and licked his lips. Looking up, he