The Gastropoda Imperative by Peter Barns (parable of the sower read online txt) 📕

“Stan.”

His wife’s call broke across Stanley’s thoughts and he dropped the half-smoked cigarette, twisting the remains into the ground with the toe of his shoe. As he walked back across to the RV, the smoking remnants were examined by the creature that had wriggled out of the hole. It spent some seconds at the site, then followed the bigger prey, sending out a high pitched signal - too high for human ears to hear - that it had found food.

“Oh there you are,” Betty said as Stanley closed the door behind him. “Everything okay? I’ve just finished feeding Jason so he should be okay for a couple of hours. Do you want something to eat?”

“To be honest babes, I’m so damned tired that I’d probably fall asleep halfway through it. Do you mind if we just turn in?”

Ten minutes later the RV was filled with Stanley’s soft snoring. Betty turned off the overhead light and snuggled down beside him, soon dropping off to sleep herself. It had been a long drive and she was looking forward to arriving at the camp site tomorrow.

Outside the RV lots of creatures had gathered. They appeared excited, weaving their orange tinted bodies in and out and around one another in a kind of dance. One took a bite of another, starting a flurry of activity, but they soon settled down again, their eye stalks turning towards the prey they could sense ahead of them.

Inside the RV, Stanley snorted himself awake and lay looking up at the overhead skylight. It must have turned cloudy because the moonlight that had been streaming through the plastic earlier, making it difficult for him to get to sleep, had been replaced by a dense blackness. Stanley turned his head slightly, forehead furrowing as he studied the skylight. No, not a dense blackness, because here and there were small points of light. But they shifted constantly, as though the perspex skylight was covered with countless small fat worms wriggling across its surface.

Then Stanley heard the noise - a constant crunching that reminded him of coffee being ground, but softly, very, very softly. He sat up in bed, careful not to wake Betty. She was tired and would probably have to get up and see to Jason before too long.

Stretching out his hand, Stanley touched the tip of his finger to the perspex cover. His breath caught as his finger passed straight through the plastic, as though the cover were made of soft jelly. Something clamped on to his finger, biting him. Shouting, Stanley dragged his finger back through and sat looking at the big, slug like creature attached to the end. It dropped into the bed and he backed up, scrabbling around, trying to find it.

Hearing a sudden snap from above, Stanley looked up, his mouth opening in shock as the skylight collapsed inwards and hundreds of wriggling creatures rained down on top of him, some dropping straight into his mouth.

As Stanley and Betty’s bodies were quickly stripped of flesh and muscle, the couple’s screams rebounded out of the broken skylight, but nobody came to help them. Once the anaesthetic injected by the creature’s bites took full effect, their screams faltered, then died away altogether, replaced by the sound of hundreds of tiny files rasping at bone.

When the first creature ventured into Jason’s carry cot and bit him, the baby woke with a gurgle and flap of his arms, as though not quite comprehending what was happening.

The creature had eaten Jason’s small toe right down to the joint before his screams stopped and he collapsed back, drugged into unconsciousness. Pretty quickly other creatures joined the first one in the cot, feeding on the small body, their frenzy mounting.

The sun would rise soon and they needed to get back to their nest.

Lyra sat forward, looking out over the waves. “It looks like we’re headed for the island,” she shouted into Troy’s ear.” He nodded. “But isn’t that dangerous?”

Troy shook his head and leant down so he could make himself heard. His breath tickled her ear as he talked. “No, that was years ago. Anyway, they concreted over the whole place.”

They were close enough to the island now that Lyra could make out the high wire fence, even in the dimming light. “But the signs say—”

“They’re just to keep people off the island. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t bring you anywhere dangerous. It’s going to be great. You’ll see.”

Trying to take Lyra’s mind off where they were going, Fin leant over and held out his hand. “Here you go Lyra.”

Lyra looked at the pen drive Fin dropped into her hand. “But I thought you couldn’t find out what the password was?”

Fin winked at her. “Where there’s a will there’s a way, as the bishop said to the actress.”

Every one groaned and Fin took a bow. “Trouble is,” he said, “the folder on it has been wiped. It’s just a jumble of random characters now. No way to recover what was in it.”

Lyra nodded, her excitement at learning that Fin had cracked the password dying to disappointment. “Oh well. Thanks for trying anyway Fin.”

Lyra held her hand over the side of the boat, ready to drop the pen drive into the sea. But she hesitated.

No, I’ll bury it on the island. That would be much better. I’ll bury it where Lexi worked. I think she’d have liked that.

Having made up her mind, Lyra slipped the pen drive into her jeans pocket and snuggled back into Troy’s arms. They were almost at the island now and despite her earlier concerns, she found herself looking forward to the party.

Lee ran the dingy straight up onto the sandy beach and they all laughed as they fell into a big heap in the bottom of the boat. Untangling themselves, the boys jumped over the sides into the shallow water and pulled the boat farther onto the beach. Taking Troy’s hand, Lyra hopped down, her bare feet sinking into the sand. Tucking her sandals into the top of her jeans she wriggled her toes.

“So what now?” she said. The boys were getting things from the dingy and nobody answered, so she walked farther up the beach.

“First things first, we need to get the barbecue going,” Fin called, handing the big CD player he was carrying to Kirsti. “Give us a hand with this stuff and then we’ll get some food on. We can collect some drift wood later so we can build a fire, in case it gets chilly.”

The last of the sun’s rays were lighting the top of the rocks above their heads, throwing the beach into dark shadows. Troy and Fin carried a small barbecue across the sand, while Lee set out three battery operated camping lights on the rocks.

Pretty soon they were sitting around on the beach, listening to fat sizzle on the hot coals as burgers and sausages cooked. The CD player belted out the latest hits and Lyra swung her hips in time to the beat as she turned the meat over. “Should have brought some marshmallows to cook over the fire later,” she said, popping a burger into a roll and handing it to Troy.

He laughed, taking a big bite, then fanning his hand in front of his mouth when it burnt his tongue. Taking a deep pull on the can of beer he was holding, he nodded. “Yeah, while we tell one another ghost stories.”

“You want a hot-dog or a burger?” Lyra called to Kirsti.

Kirsti came over and looked at the cooking meat. “Don’t suppose you bought any salad with you, did you guys?” she asked. “Figures,” she said when she was answered with a chorus of laughs. “Okay then. Let’s have a hot-dog. Just the one dog though.”

Fin grabbed her around the waist from behind and gave her a squeeze. “One hot-dog coming up,” he said, grinding his hips into her butt.

She laughed and pulled away, pushing her hog-dog into his mouth. “If you think I’d let that thing anywhere near me, you’ve got another think coming.”

They all laughed and made cat calls. Fin took the teasing in good faith and munched on his meal as he made his way back to his rock-seat, shaking his head.

***

Piers wrinkled his nose as he pushed the last chicken into the plastic sack and tied a knot in it. He was sorry that he’d had to kill them as the misses had always been kind to him, letting him live in her bothy and all, but he needed meat, a lot of meat.

Piers had followed the aliens back to their lair last night and had been surprised when they’d led him to a big hole beside the brook right behind Sea View Cottage. It was a wonder the misses hadn’t been attacked yet, but then she seldom went out at night anymore.

Piers was worried because he’d seen Lyra getting into a boat with Troy and some others down at the quay. She’d probably come back home in the dark tonight.

They came in the dark. Always in the dark.

They’d become more active lately, spending more time hunting, sometimes even during the day. Lyra didn’t realise the danger she was in, living so close to their lair. None of them did. He knew he’d have to do something to protect her. He’d tried to warn her but she’d turned her head away. She hadn’t laughed at him like the others did when he tried to warn them, but he could tell that she didn’t really believe him and was just being nice.

After finding their lair, Piers had watched the aliens come and go, following them when he could with the instrument he’d stolen from the van. He’d watched them kill the sheep, and tonight the people in the camper van.

That had been very bad. They’d screamed and shouted, thumping off the sides of the vehicle as they tried to fight off the aliens. Fortunately the screams hadn’t lasted long, they never did. Piers wiped the tears from his eyes as he wondered whether his mother had died such a terrible death. The aliens had to be stopped and he was going to do it. Right now.

Grabbing the plastic sack, Piers hurried from the bothy, the tins strapped around his legs and feet making muted chinking sounds as he walked.

Piers eased the cramp in his leg, trying to make as little noise as possible. He’d been stuck up the tree for at least an hour, wishing he’d brought a couple of cans of beer along. He’d promised Lyra that he wouldn’t drink any more, but was finding that promise more and more difficult to keep.

The moon was high, the clouds scattered, so Piers had a good view of the trap he’d laid for the aliens. Tonight he would kill them all and it would be over. Then he would laugh in the faces of Troy and his friends. His mother would be proud of him, so proud.

Piers had spent many hours tracking and studying the creatures that had killed his mother, and had learnt lots of things about them - that they loved beer for instance, just as he did. That strange discovery brought him closer to them, and had even helped him capture some. He’d laid out half-filled beer