The Word of God (25 page)

They came to a gasping halt in a small clearing while the cuts were inspected by Gwen. There was no breeze and Peter found the air stifling. Stephen swore and removed his glasses, which had fogged up, to wipe them. Peter fanned his face with his hat and turned to look behind him.

What he saw made him suck in his breath sharply. They were now above the level of the tree tops along the river and could see out across the valley to the hotel and the mountains beyond. But what drew his attention was the sight of a vehicle in the distance. It was about five hundred metres away and was parked on the bitumen road at the junction with the track near the dual purpose bridge.

“That car,” he said to Graham while pointing.

Graham looked, his face a mask of concentration. “Two men, both in civvies,” he said.

Stephen replaced his glasses and also looked. “Not wearing black,” he added.

Graham chewed his bottom lip. “Doesn't mean they aren't Devil Worshippers,” he replied.

Joy shaded her eyes and stared. “I think it is the two knights,” she said.

Peter screwed his eyes up against the glare and wiped sweat from his brow.
One of the men walked around to the front of the car and appeared to be looking at a map. He certainly did look like Sir Richard. “Looks like them,” he said.

Graham shielded his eyes from the sun. “I would have thought that they would have cleared out to safety,” he said.

Stephen shook his head. “Not them. They have a quest to fulfil. They won't give up just because of a few Devil Worshippers,” he commented.

As the friends watched the man climbed back into the car and it was started up. It drove down and across the bridge and out of sight behind the trees on their own bank.

“Going our way anyway,” Graham observed.

Joy looked hopeful. “Maybe we will meet up with them?” she suggested.

Megan made a face. “I'd rather not,” she put in. “I'm sick of this whole business.”

“We could warn them again,” Peter suggested.

“Oh stop talking about the Devil Worshippers!” Megan cried.

Stephen shook his head. “No. We must face reality. Wishing them away won't make then go,” he said.

Megan glared at him and looked away. Gwen spoke up to avert another clash. “If we can see them then anyone over there might be able to see us. I think we should keep moving.”

Graham nodded agreement then turned and continued on up the slope. They all found it very hard going, so steep they continually slipped and had to stop to get their breath. The place was so overgrown that it just looked the sort of place that would be a real nest of snakes so Peter kept a very wary eye on all the clumps of grass and holes.

It was obvious they were following animal tracks through the long grass and Peter hoped they were wallaby tracks and not pig tracks. Stephen voiced this, to Joy's and Megan's horror.

A few minutes later they reached a grassy, weed-covered crest line. Gwen looked around. “We seem to be on top of a hill here. Try your mobile phone Steve,” she suggested.

Stephen reached into his pocket and as he did his face changed. “Uh oh! I left it in my pocket when we waded the river,” he said. He took out his phone and tried to turn it on. Then he bit his lip and shook his head. “Dead as a doornail,” he said.

Both Joy and Megan let out gasps of dismay and both reached into their own pockets. To everyone's dismay both had also carried their phones in their pockets
and these were now saturated and not working. Megan began to blubber and kept trying to turn hers on but the screen remained stubbornly blank.

Gwen shook her head and then dug in her webbing. She had wrapped her phone in a plastic bag and it was dry. As she took it out and turned it on she said, “Peter, you and Graham try yours as well.”

Graham shook his head. “I didn't bring mine on the hike,” he said. “I always leave it at home during cadet activities.”

“So do I,” added Peter. He felt quite foolish but at the time it was just what he usually did.

Gwen looked from one to the other. “So mine is the only phone we now have?” she commented.

Peter nodded. “Looks like it. Anyway we are higher up here so we might get service. Give it a try.” he suggested.

Gwen tried- but they didn't. Looking distinctly worried she shrugged and switched her phone off again. “No go,” she said.

Peter felt ill but tried to keep a brave face on things. “Probably nobody in this valley gets any mobile connection,” he said.

As they could not communicate Graham turned right and led the way on along the bank of the creek. Peter realized they could go left and go back towards Gordonvale but the idea of abandoning the two knights to their fate caused him great unease. So he did not voice the idea and just followed along.

After twenty minutes of sweating and slithering progress Graham began heading back downhill. This was much easier but still awkward as they had to stop themselves sliding out of control and the lantana and blady grass scratched and prickled. It was a real relief to reach the rainforest along the river bank again.

Ten minutes later they came out onto the edge of a field of sugar cane. There were sighs of relief and they halted on the vehicle track between the tall cane and the jungle to have a drink. Peter looked at his watch: 0800. As soon as they had all finished drinking Graham led them on.

The next few hundred metres were easy going. They walked along the mowed vehicle track with the tall, uncut cane on their left and the thick belt of jungle on the river bank on their right.

Joy looked around and shook her head. “I can't get over how green it all is!” she marvelled.

“And how hot and humid,” Stephen added as he removed his glasses to again wipe condensation from them.

Peter looked up and around and nodded. Directly ahead the massive
escarpment of the Atherton Tablelands now loomed up, taking up half the view.

The line where the Gillies Highway cut its way diagonally up the face of the mountains showed clearly as a pale scar amidst the trees.

The group reached the end of the cane field. Here the track curved left. On their right a tall thicket of grass and weeds replaced the rainforest. Peter looked that way to check if he could see the river.

“The bridge should be somewhere just down there,” he commented. At that moment he saw it through a small gap in the foliage. “Yes there it is.. I.. Oh no!”

“What is it?” Stephen asked from behind him. They all stopped to look. Peter felt his stomach contract. He pointed.

“Devil Worshippers.”

Parked at the far end of the bridge at the junction with the track in to where they had spent the night were two vehicles. One was the black four wheel drive and the other was the blue car they had seen earlier. Two men in black were standing talking between the two vehicles. One figure sat in the front of the blue car and another in the front of the black four wheel drive.

Peter stared hard at the black four wheel drive. “Is that the Black Monk in the black four wheel drive?” he asked.

“Can't tell,” Stephen replied. “Those tinted windows make it too hard to see.”

They all craned to look. Graham pulled Joy back. “Don't show yourself. They may not know we are there.”

“Then what are they doing there?” Joy asked, her voice quavering.

“Following the two knights is my guess,” Peter replied.

Joy gasped. “Oh! Then we must warn them!” she cried. Peter met her eyes and smiled. She looked very tired and quite bedraggled from the drenching and trek through the jungle but her spirit still shone through.

“Yes, let's move.”

He and Graham both started walking away from the river as quickly as they could. The others followed. As they strode along Megan found her voice.

“We should hide.”

Peter shook his head. “After we warn the knights.”

Gwen pointed ahead. “There's a farm. Let's call the police,” she said.

They were now approaching the point where the road and tramline came up through a cutting on their right to the level of the canefield. Ahead on the right several old farm buildings stood amidst the sugar cane. Twenty more paces revealed to them that a lawn sloped up on the left opposite the old buildings. The lawn led to a new steel shed and a modern farm house.

As the friends reached the road and tramway close to the driveway to the house Peter called back to Stephen: “Steve, watch the rear in case those buggers drive across the bridge and catch us.”

At that moment a dog barked. Two more took up the challenge and ran into view. All were big dogs: one a much scarred Bull Terrier and the other two Blue Heeler cattle dogs. They looked and sounded vicious. Their barking and snarling shattered the silence of the valley. Instinctively the friends crowded together and Peter hefted his staff ready to fend off attack as the dogs raced down the sloping lawn. For a minute things looked bad as the dogs snarled, growled and snapped around them. Peter was sure they would attack. Megan began to shriek hysterically and Joy whimpered in fear. Graham took out a sheath knife to supplement his staff and Stephen produced the pistol.

A solid man in his mid-thirties, dressed in old grey shorts and blue singlet appeared from the shed. He glared at them then yelled: “Get out of here you bloody kids! This is private property.”

Graham shook his head. “Please call off your dogs and call the police,” he shouted back. He had to hold off one of them from nipping his legs.

The man shook a fist. “I'll call the police alright! Get off my bloody land,” he shouted again.

Gwen stepped forward. “Please! We are in trouble!” she shouted.

At that the man whistled and called to the dogs to ‘come behind ya mongrels'. He walked down the slope, wiping greasy hands on a cloth. “So what is going on then? What brings you here? Can't you read?”

Peter frowned. “Read what?” he asked.

“The bloody sign on the bridge,” the man growled angrily, while grabbing one of the dogs by the collar and driving a second one off with his foot. A bare foot Peter noted, stained with red mud.

Peter shook his head. “We didn't see any sign. We came along the river bank,” he explained.

The man looked astonished. “Along the river bank? On this side? Not across the bridge?”

“That's right,” Peter answered. “Oh please. It is vitally important that you call the police. Get Inspector Goldstein and tell him that the army cadets want him here as quickly as possible. He will understand.”

“Why? What's going on?” the man asked suspiciously.

“We can't explain easily,” Peter replied. He glanced around at the road up from the river, half expecting to see the Devil Worshippers arrive at any moment.

A look of suspicion crossed the man's face. “Why not? Have you done something wrong?”

Peter shook his head. “No sir. It's just. It's something we aren't supposed to talk about except to the police,” he replied lamely. He was now in a lather of sweat as apprehension gripped him. What would they do if the Devil Worshippers arrived?

Gwen spoke next: “Has a white car driven past here a few minutes ago?”

“Yes, about half an hour ago. Didn't ask my bloody permission either! But they'll be back. The next bridge is washed out,” the man said.

“We must warn them,” Gwen cried. “Otherwise they will drive back into the Devil Worshippers!”

“Gwen!” Peter cautioned.

The man looked alarmed. “Devil Worshippers! What the hell is going on?”

Peter again shook his head. “We can't tell you. Please go and phone the police. We will be just along here wherever that car is,” he replied.

Without waiting to see if the man agreed Peter began walking. This caused a fresh outburst of frenzied barking from the dogs. The man yelled at them to stop but Gwen confronted him.

“Please call the police at once. And please don't tell the men in black you have seen us.”

“Men in black?”

Gwen pointed back along the dirt road. “In two cars. They are back there at the bridge,” she explained. With that she spun on her heel and followed, the third dog snapping at her heels. This time the man stood and stared after them. Then he whistled and called the dogs back. The last they saw of him he was walking back up towards the house and yelling to one of the Blue Heelers which didn't want to give up the game.

Peter led the way along the dirt track which ran beside the tramline. This ran between two fields of uncut cane. All the while the friends walked as quickly as they could and kept looking over their shoulders. It was now very hot and down between the cane there was no breeze so they were soon sweating profusely.

After two hundred metres they came to a side track which went right. Peter stopped briefly to study the dust and then headed that way. Graham pointed to the tyre tracks, grunted agreement and followed. The track was so narrow that the rough cane leaves hung across it in many places, forcing them to push through them. It was not very pleasant but Peter was so scared and so worried that he barely noticed. Even Megan's grumbling was just an irrelevant background noise.

A few hundred paces on they came out onto a headland on the river bank. The river bank was almost devoid of large trees and only a grassy slope and a belt of small flood-twisted trees separated them from the bed of the river. This was a wide gravel flat on their side, then a series of rapids and deep pools on the far side. Beyond that the far bank rose steeply up to a long ridge which ran off up to the right as a huge buttress of the main escarpment a few kilometres away. The ridge was sparsely clad in grass and savannah woodland, causing Peter's mind to speculate briefly on the effect of rain shadows.

The friends turned left and set off along the headland. The river at this point curved back to the left, then away to the right. Ahead of them loomed another steep grassy slope crowned with cane fields.