The Gastropoda Imperative by Peter Barns (ebook reader computer TXT) đź“–
- Author: Peter Barns
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Betts’ hand slapped down on his arm. “No.”
“Conal knows this place. He’ll know how to get in touch with the outside world from down here.” Holding up his hand when Betts began to protest again, he nodded. “Look, I know I found out how to switch on the power, but I’m only an electrician, not someone who knows the systems here. We need him.”
“Then I’m going too,” Betts said.
“No, I’ll go with him,” Troy said. “If we need to carry Conal back, then it’ll be faster with us two doing it.”
“Betts shook her head violently. “I’m going with Lee,” she insisted.
“And if you think I’m staying here on my own, you’ve got another think coming,” Lyra said. “So I guess we all go.”
A few minutes later they were crowded around the hatch. Troy thumped the palm of his hand against the latches, turning them free. He took a moment before he opened the hatch, glancing across at the others, his fingers opening and closing on the handles.
Lyra put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
Taking a deep breath Troy pulled the hatch aside and stuck his head into the ducting.
***
The beach was still, just the crashing of waves against the shore disturbing the night. The clouds had cleared, lighting the sand with a wash of pale yellow.
“Look, over there. At the base of the cliff,” Troy shouted, breaking into a run.
The others followed him and they were soon crowded around Conal. He was lying on the beach on his side, his face sandy where he’d fallen. Lyra carefully brushed it off.
“He’s breathing,” Lee said. “Let’s get him back inside quick. We don’t know how close those damned things are.” His remark set them all looking about nervously.
“What about Piers? We can’t leave him out here on his own.” Lyra said, standing up and looking about for him.
Troy got to his feet and held her shoulders, looking down into her eyes. “Lyra, you help Lee and Betts get Conal back inside. I’ll go and look for Piers. He can’t be far away. I don’t like you being out here like this. It’s too dangerous.”
“But—”
“Please, listen to me Lyra. Go back inside with the others.”
Troy watched them struggle up the beach with the unconscious Conal for a moment, then looked back along the sand towards the boats. He had no lantern, the others had taken that, but thankfully he didn’t need one now as the moon gave enough light to see by.
Troy decided that he’d give himself five minutes to search along the beach, then he’d go back inside and tell the others that he couldn’t find Piers. The bloody idiot had probably gotten himself eaten anyway. What the hell protection he thought his stupid tin cans were, Troy had no idea.
It took Troy just three minutes to discover the Syclers coming up the beach towards him. He stopped, squinting, trying to make out what was disturbing the sand. Then he backed away from the runnels curving back and forth beneath the surface.
How the hell could they move that fast?
Troy turned and began a fast walk back the way he’d come, casting glances over his shoulder as he went. He was almost at the cave when he heard a sound over to his left. He stopped and listened, just making out a weak voice above the waves now pounding the shore.
Moving towards the shoreline, Troy saw an arm waving. Piers was in the water, every wave dragging him farther out to sea. Without thinking, Troy ran across the sand and dived into the sea, swimming out to the floundering man with strong strokes.
Grabbing Piers around the chest from the rear, Troy back-stroked with one arm, pulling the almost unconscious Piers towards the beach. Dragging him up onto the sand, Troy collapsed, coughing seawater from his mouth. Piers grabbed his shoulder and tried to speak, but all that came out was an almost indistinguishable: “Thanks,” before he collapsed.
Troy pulled Piers into a sitting position and looked across at the cave. The others had disappeared and he had no time to go and get help before the things reached them. Troy had no option but to try to drag Piers back to the cave on his own.
Standing behind Piers, Troy grabbed him under the arms, pulling him across the sand in a half crouch. It was hard work and Troy’s back was soon aching with the effort.
Halfway to the cave Troy had to stop. Looking back along the two furrows that Piers’ heels had left in the sand, he could see some movement farther down the beach and knew it was going to be a close call. Should he just leave Piers here and go?
Bending over, Troy grabbed Piers again and pulled, then dropped him and wiped his forehead with his arm. Taking another look along the beach he swore softly, mouthing a soft, “Sod it,” then turned and began jogging towards the cave.
Voices were coming from behind the door. Payne listened, his hand gripping the handle. Two women as far as he could make out, but it paid to take nothing for granted. Turning the handle he opened the door and walked into the room.
One of the women caught the movement from the corner of her eye and turned to face him, her hand going to her mouth. The other woman had her back to him. There was nobody else in the room.
As he crossed the floor, the woman who had been sitting down stood up, her chair crashing to the floor as she faced him. Payne could see that she was the younger of the two. There seemed to be some family resemblance. Not mother and daughter though, the ages were too near. Sisters then.
No one had said a word yet, but the women followed the movement of his gun as he pointed it at them. “Who else is in the house,” he said. “Don’t lie, because if I find out you have, I will kill them. Do you believe me?”
The older woman sat into a chair with a thump. The younger one held herself upright by the kitchen table, but Payne could see that she was about to collapse at any moment. He picked up the chair and pushed it towards her, motioning with his gun that she should sit down.
“What do you want? We have no money. Well a little. Take that and go.”
Payne could hear the fright in her voice, but also a steely edge. He’d need to watch her. “I asked who else is in the house.”
“We’re on our own.” The older woman’s voice trembled, but her eyes never left his. Payne moved behind her. Placing his pistol back in its holster, he quickly tied the woman’s hands together behind her back with cable ties. “Now you,” he said, moving across to the other woman.
“If you scream I’ll gag you. If you stay quiet and do as I tell you to, then you’ll be okay. Do you believe me?” The women nodded. “I’m going to search the house now. I suggest you sit quietly while I do so. I don’t want to have to hurt you, but I will if you give me any cause. I’m going to lock the doors and will hear if you try to get out. Do you believe me?” The women nodded again.
After locking the front and back doors with a set of keys he’d found hanging on a hook in the hall, Payne did a quick but thorough search upstairs. Ten minutes later he came down, a computer hard drive and a laptop in his hands. Leaving them on the kitchen table, he searched the rest of the cottage.
When he’d finished he had added two mobiles to his finds. “Are there any more phones, computers or other electronic devices that I’ve missed?” he asked.
The women shook their heads, staring at him with wide eyes. He had spoken in a soft voice but he knew that they were taking him seriously, he could see it in the way they watched his every move. They weren’t lying.
“Are there any tools in the house? A hammer or axe?”
Neither of the women answered but Payne caught the flicker of the older woman’s eyes towards the kitchen range. Walking over, he spotted a large basket of logs with a small axe balanced on top. Picking up the axe he returned to the table and systematically destroyed all the equipment he’d found.
“Please. What is it that you want?”
Ignoring the question, Payne crossed to the sink and filled the kettle. He didn’t bother with gloves because he would be burning the cottage down after he’d finished here. Making himself a cup of coffee, he grabbed a chair, turned off the light, and sat staring out the window into the night.
Behind him he could hear the women’s ragged breathing. The older one reminded him a little of his mother and Payne was a little sorry that he would have to kill her.
***
As Troy reached the entrance to the cave, he collided with Lee. The lantern flew out of Lee’s hand, crashing against the rocks and going out.
Picking it up, Lee rattled it, then threw it down again. “Nice one Troy,” he said.
“Quick, I was just coming to get you. I need help. I couldn’t get Piers here by myself.”
They ran back to where Piers was laying, grabbing an arm each, pulling him upright until just his heels were dragging along the sand. Stumbling towards the cave as fast as they could, they dragged him along between them. Catching movement from the corner of his eye, Lee stopped and looked back along the beach.
Troy was almost thrown off his feet. “What are you doing?” he shouted. “Keep going.”
Seeing how near the creatures were, Lee grabbed Piers’ arm again and ran as fast as he could. They finally pulled Piers into the cave, splashing through the water to the big gate.
Lyra was waiting by the end of the ducting and pretty soon they had got the unconscious man passed the filters and through the hatch. Troy slammed it shut, then leant against it, breathing heavily.
“Christ that was close,” Lee said.
Lyra rushed into Troy’s arms and gave him a hug.
“Thought I’d had it there for a moment,” he said, hugging her back. “Where’s Conal?”
“He’s back in the canteen recovering. He’s still quite woozy but we gave him some strong coffee. It seemed to help.”
“Go get me a knife. One with a sharp point,” Troy said.
Lyra leant back in his arms, looking up at his face with a puzzled frown.
Troy nodded down at Piers. “He said he’d been bitten when I was dragging him out of the sea. If it’s true, that . . . thing . . . may still be in there. We have to get it out.”
Lyra ran off and was soon back with a knife and a bottle of vinegar. I haven’t been able to find the First Aid stuff yet, but this might help stop any infection.”
“If it doesn’t kill him first,” Lee said.
After a quick search, Troy found a wound in Piers’ leg just above the tin cans. “Guess the armour stuff works after all,” he said, pulling the edges of the wound apart. “I think I can see something moving around in there. Hold his leg still for me, will you Lyra?”
Troy dug around in Piers’ leg with the end of the knife, finally pulling out a piece of orange coloured gunge. It wriggled weakly on the end of the blade. Troy dropped it on the floor and stamped on it.
“There’s more in here,” he said, poking about with the knife again. “Damn it, I can’t get the rest out.” He fiddled about for a few more minutes, but ended up making such a mess of Piers’ leg that he gave up. “Guess cutting it in bits is good enough. The hospital can take care of the rest when we get back home.”
Troy soaked the wound in vinegar, then tore a strip of material from Piers’ trousers and tied it around his leg as a make-shift bandage. Sending the girls into the canteen,
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