FRANKS, Bill (31 page)

   At last, he rose from the table, paid his bill, with a decent tip for the bustling waitress and left
.
Back in the vehicle, he drove to the surrounding countryside and parked off the road, near to a range of hedgerows, that offered a fine view of the meadow as it meandered away from his position and down towards the inhabited parts.

   For some time, he sat outside, soaking up the beauty of the area and the pleasure of God’s gifts; the fading Sun as it created new colours and aspects, the gentle, warm breeze, the grasses, flowers and beautifully blossomed trees.

   Finally, Ignatious went back into the motor home where he read the bible until tired enough for sleep
.
Stripping his clothes, he lay naked under the single cotton sheet and drifted away.

   The exhaustion, coupled with the heaviness of the warm night, lulled Ignatious into a fitful sleep, filled with troubled dreams.

   He had become accustomed to his position, tied to the pole, uncomfortable that it was
.
Thankfully, due to lack of food and drink, his normal b
odily functions had gone into neutral mode, so he did not have to suffer the indignity of performing them where he stood.

   It was around two in the morning, the sounds of the jungle now muted, that he became aware of movement somewhere in the vicinity of his ankles
.
Something was sniffing around!  He then felt a similar movement around his tied wrists
.
What kind of animal could this be? he wondered fearfully
.
Then, the binding ropes began to loosen and slide down his body
.
Keeping in the same position in which he had spent the last few days, he gingerly moved one of his feet forward
.
It moved!  Trying the other foot, he was astonished to find that it, too, moved forward.

   Cautiously, he brought his arms to the front, feeling the ropes sliding off him
.
He was being freed!  But how?  By whom?  The ropes fell away to the ground as a figure appeared from behind in the darkness
.
Peering hard, Ignatious was just able to make out the face of the girl with whom he had spent that last night before being hauled to his imprisonment.

   He looked at the girl in amazement
.
What she was now doing could be the cause of her suffering a violent death
.
Before he could speak and whisper his thanks, she pointed toward the jungle
.
“Go!” she whispered harshly
.
“Go!”  She then left quickly and silently.

   For some moments, Ignatious could not move; he was in a small state of shock
.
He had not expected to be freed and had made his peace with his Maker, fully prepared to meet Him.

   His muscles stiff and tingling painfully with the blood filling again the restricted tubes of his veins, he bent and stretched his legs, flapping his arms in an attempt to assist the renewal of his circulation
.
He realised that, whilst he was here, he stood the risk of discovery but he would not be able to move quietly on numbed feet
.
After several minutes, he felt more back to normal and paused to decide what next to do.

   The happenings of the past few days had both shocked and angered him
.
Since before his prison days, Ignatious had learned to curb his anger and channel it into something positive rather than give vent to it
.
However, now
he was burning with an anger that threatened to wholly consume him
.
He wanted revenge!

   Noticing the table laid with the intended instruments of his death, he quickly devised a plan that would satisfy his fury
.
Gathering up the flask with its deadly contents, he moved swiftly to the edge of the village and climbed the ladder leading to the water storage tank that, only a few days earlier, he had helped to design and construct for the benefit of the tribe.

   Reaching the top, he laid the flask down and scooped a handful of the pure water into his dry mouth, swallowing gratefully after first swilling it around
.
He then retrieved the flask and removed the stopper
.
He knew the poison would be of the strongest kind, designed to kill quickly; something he would have appreciated later this morning.

   Leaning over the edge of the tank, he poured a measure of the pink-tinted liquid into the water, calculating that even a small amount would be sufficient to permeate the system, with enough power to do its deadly work
.
However, he wanted to be absolutely certain.

   When the villagers awoke, their first action would be to feed the water to their children and then take it themselves
.
Ignatious hoped that the children would survive until the seniors took their drinks so that there would be no pre-warning
.
He sat with his back to the tank and awaited the oncoming of dawn.

The light shaft of sunlight across Ignatious’s face woke him from his slumber
.
Having no watch, he had to calculate from the sun’s position, what time it was, estimating it to be around six
.
Looking out over the village, he watched the early mist rise from the dwellings, over the foliage to become temporarily lodged in the tall trees
.
The warmth was beginning to increase even then,
at around 7am as Ignatious waited,
indications that the day was to be hot again
.
Even during the frequent rains, the heat was never subdued.

   The one thing that was immediately apparent to Ignatious was the unusual quietness, apart from the growing sounds of the jungle
.
There was no life to be observed in the village at a time when some signs would normally be evident
.
It seemed as though his plan had worked but there was only one way to be certain and that was to inspect the dwellings.

   Picking up the flask, still quite full, he descended the ladder
.
Once on the ground, he went to the first of the dwellings
.
Going inside, he observed one of the tribesmen lying on the floor on top of a toddler, both with eyes and mouths open - clearly dead
.
Next to the sink lay a tribes-woman, also clearly lifeless and, in the far corner, a girl in her early teens
.
The next three homes proved to be the same: all occupants dead.

   Feeling safe now, Ignatious went to his dwelling and dressed in his travelling clothes, gathering up what useful items he felt would be needed including, and for no good reason he could immediately think of, the deadly flask
.
He placed all into a light backpack and continued his inspection of the village.

   Seeing in one, the body of his one-time friend, Karakta, he felt curiously emotionless, while, in another dwelling, he felt some remorse at the sight of the lovely girl who had provided him with sexual gratification and who had been courageous enough to free him
.
He consoled himself with the thought that, at least, she looked beautiful and at peace.

  
In his sleep, Ignatious smiled, the reason for retaining the flask now evident following the most recent killing
.

  
It took more than an hour to complete the scrutiny, leaving only the place of the Elders
.
There were three places allocated to them, the Chief Elder occupying one a little larger than the other two
.
Nervously, not entirely expecting the poison to have affected these strange men, he went into the first of the smaller buildings.

   To Ignatious’s amazement, all three were completely empty of beings!  In the Chief Elder’s residence, the puzzled missionary discovered an assortment of the hypodermics used, together with their reed needles, and phials containing the various fluids
.
Two of the hypodermics were of the compressed-air type
.
Again, without fully understanding why, Ignatious collected the hypodermics, needles and phials and put them in his pack
.
The liquids were familiar to him by their colourings and he knew which drugs, or poisons they contained.

   In the time spent here, mostly happy, Ignatious had come to know how to use different plant types to obtain the fluids
.
Even in the Western world, he would be able to mix the brew from existing plant life, understanding which types would be of similar genus to those found in this sweltering place.

   There was one final thing his curiosity led him to satisfy, and that was the so-called Gods
.
What action, if any, would they be likely to take?

   Going back to the village square, he began the journey up the hillside, picking his way through the dense bushes, until he arrived at a few feet from the top
.
Squirming upwards, as Karakta had previously advised him, he peered carefully over the edge
.
The sight that greeted Ignatious stunned and shocked him.

   The three pyramids were slowly and smoothly sinking into the ground, the earth around them churning and bubbling
.
It was clearly an organised operation
was in motion
.
In unison they slipped further and further until a mere foot of each protruded
.
Stationary for many minutes, the shining peaks suddenly disappeared below ground, the churning continuing for some time
.
Then, all was still, peace and quietness returning
.
Where the amazing structures had once stood, there remained only large patches of earth showing amidst the rich green of the surrounding grasses
.
In less than two weeks, the area would once more be uniform, the greenery appearing totally undisturbed.

   Unwilling to believe the evidence before him, Ignatious stared and stared, tears, unaccountably, slipping from his eyes
.
What had he just witnessed?  Was it a miracle, magic, or some alien occurrence?  Who could possibly know?

   He shuddered and allowed himself to slip, face downwards, from the top of the rise to the bushes immediately below
.
Even here, he could not bring himself to move, his mind in turmoil, trying and failing, to make some sense of the scene
.
Eventually, he stood and made his way back to the square where he gathered his belongings and set off
.
On the way from the village and its lifeless occupants, he collected up some fruit to serve as sustenance over what he expected to be a difficult and tiring journey.

   At the end of the village area, Ignatious turned to take one last look at the paradise that was, noticing the thin clouds of airborne insects already gathering around the buildings
.
His heart wept for his stricken companions, even Ottomier who had brought the tragedy upon them all
.
Pictures entered his mind, of Father Christian, a tough, once dedicated missionary and friend, the two young nuns whose lives had been prematurely ended, and the Australian who never got the chance to experience the happiness that, for many months, had been enjoyed by the survivors of that awful storm.

   It had been a long journey with many truths being brought to the missionaries about their own vulnerabilities and failings at a time when their faiths had come to be tested
.
Ignatious had learned a lot, not only in practical experience, but about himself – and he felt strong; felt that he had, with only a couple of diversions, come through it all with his commitment to God in good shape.
Even the deaths would send innocent people to his Maker; a good deed done.

   Putting the tribal deaths out of his mind, he moved on
.
As he would later tell the parents of Kylie Johnson - he got up and walked off while they were sleeping
.

   Making his way to the clear-water river, he filled one of the animal-skin flasks with the pure liquid and secured the stopper tightly
.
Taking a deep breath, he walked towards the forbidding foliage that marked the beginning of the jungle.

   Without the assistance of his companions, it took Ignatious until dusk to finally reach the position where the boat had been left all that time ago
.
Even if still there, he doubted if the craft would be in a fit state to engage the unpredictable waters.

   Almost at exhaustion, he hacked his way over the final stretch of jungle and fell into the small bay
.
While lying on his front, he offered up prayers to the Good Lord for delivering him safely
.
There had been many dangers to be faced en-route, causing him to use his gradually tiring brainpower to repel the various animals; some purely mean-minded, some mischievous and two or three downright dangerous predators.