The Word of God Read online

  Blast the man! Where has he gone? This is no time for modesty! he thought irritably.

  Ahead of him Peter thought he heard someone talking. He turned that way and moved around a large bush. At that moment he spotted Sir Richard. He was still dressed in his grey suit and was crouched behind a tree and was aiming his pistol over towards the tramline. In his other hand he had a mobile phone which he appeared to be listening to.

  Or is it a radio? he wondered, noting an antennae.

  As Peter moved forward Sir Richard half rose and aimed his pistol. At that moment Peter trod on a dead twig. The sharp crack caused Sir Richard to spin around. Peter found himself staring into the muzzle of the pistol at ten paces.

  “It… it’s me!” he croaked in fright. “Don’t shoot! We are pulling back. Quickly, get changed.”

  Sir Richard’s eyes narrowed. For an instant Peter thought he was going to shoot. Then he swore and nodded. He quickly put down the pistol and mobile phone and started peeling off his jacket. Peter felt quite self conscious so he said: “We can hear voices. We want to get moving. Hurry please.”

  Sir Richard grunted and pulled the camouflage jacket on.

  Peter pointed to the mobile phone. “Can you contact the police on that?”

  “I was just trying to. Can’t get through. These mountains probably screen the radio signals,” Sir Richard replied.

  Peter nodded. “Hurry please. I want to get the girls to safety.”

  “Yes. Be with you in a moment.” Sir Richard replied.

  Peter moved back to where he had left his pack. He found Sir Miles, Mr Jones and Graham crouched behind a tree beside the tramline. Stephen stood nearby, peering around another tree. To Peter’s surprise he saw that Stephen had a small revolver in his hand.

  “Steve, where’d you get the gun?” he asked.

  “Took it off that injured Devil Worshipper yesterday,” Stephen replied.

  Typical! Peter thought. Stephen was rumoured to have often done illegal things of which Peter did not approve.

  He said: “You should have handed it to the police.”

  Stephen shrugged. “Forgot.”

  Sounds of someone moving through the forest caused them to look back over their right shoulders. Sir Richard, now clad in the camouflage uniform, appeared. He carried his clothes in one hand and his pistol in the other. He glanced at the gun in Stephen’s hand with evident surprise.

  Peter said: “Stephen has a gun too. He will cover us. Quick, we must pull back before we are cut off.”

  Sir Miles moved at once. He grasped Peter’s pack and swung it onto his shoulders. Graham took the clothes from Sir Richard and thrust them into his pack, then knelt to buckle it up. He pointed and said; “Get moving. We will catch up. Go!”

  Peter turned towards the railway line. “Follow me, quickly,” he ordered.

  Without waiting to see if he was obeyed he pushed his way through the undergrowth out onto the tramline. To his relief the two knights and Mr Jones followed. In two minutes they had caught up with the girls, who were waiting anxiously.

  “Where are the others?” Gwen asked.

  “Coming,” Peter replied. “Start walking.”

  The girls did so. Almost at once Graham and Stephen came into view behind them, both striding along as fast as they could go. Graham gave them a thumbs-up as he came.

  Good! Peter thought. So far so good. But now what?

  He considered what their next move should be. Petes Bridge and the tactical problem it posed now dominated his thoughts. Should they just move out to the highway and stop a car to go and get the police? Or should they use the bridge to cross to the other bank of the river and then go to a farm house to phone for help?

  By this time they had come out of the forest and were walking along a section of the tramline which had tall grass on both sides. On the left it dropped to a belt of grass and weeds a hundred metres wide which ended at the belt of trees along the river bank. The other way was the highway, then a steep mountain side. Peter could even see cars on the highway and a house up on the slope beyond it.

  If we can make it to that house we can phone the police, he thought.

  Graham was obviously thinking along the same lines as he had his map out and was studying it. “We need to get across the highway,” he said. “If the Devil Worshippers realize we have gone this way they can drive along here in a few minutes.”

  “Stop a car and ask for help?” Peter suggested.

  “Yes, as long as it is the right car,” Graham replied.

  That was an unpleasant thought.

  Peter nodded. “Yes, I think you are right. We need to hide the knights safely first, then get help,” he replied.

  From ahead Gwen called back: “Which way?”

  The tramline forked. A branch went off to the left past a clump of trees. Ahead was the turnoff to Petes Bridge. Decision time!

  “Go left,” Graham called.

  Peter wondered if this was the best option as the line straight ahead went on to cross the highway, then ran along beside it for the next kilometre.

  “What about the highway?” he asked.

  Graham nodded. “We stop the first car which comes along. I just wanted to keep under cover.”

  Within fifty paces Peter saw what he meant. The branch came out beside the bitumen road which crossed Petes Bridge. The turnoff was only twenty metres on their right. The bridge was fifty metres to the left. Peter had often been there on picnics so knew what to expect. The bridge was a dual purpose one, the tramline and roadway both sharing it.

  As they came out past the clump of trees Peter looked at the bridge. It was fifty metres long and the river flowed clear and deep beneath it. On either side the verge of the road had been mowed so the grass was only ankle high.

  But it was not the beauty of the scene which caught Peter’s eye. It was the 4WD vehicle parked at the far end of the bridge. A man in jeans and a black T-shirt was leaning on the bonnet smoking a cigarette. As soon as the cadets came into sight he straightened up and moved to sit in the vehicle.

  “Is that bloke a Devil Worshipper do you think?” Gwen asked anxiously.

  “Don’t know, but he is using a radio or mobile phone now,” Peter said.

  Megan let out a short wail. “Oh dear! What will we do?” she cried. She looked very tired and ready to burst into tears.

  “Well, we aren’t crossing the bridge it seems,” Graham replied. “Go across this road and walk on along beside the highway. We will stop the first car that comes along.”

  Without waiting he walked across the bitumen road and set off along the grassy verge. The others followed. Peter glanced several times back at the vehicle at the far end of the bridge but the man in it did not get out and made no move to drive across.

  Within one minute the group had walked far enough along the highway to be out of sight of the vehicle, the trees and long grass of the river bank screening them. As they strode along Peter looked anxiously back over his shoulder along the highway. He had a sinking feeling that the first vehicle that would come along would be the Devil Worshippers.

  Stephen muttered crossly: “Bloody cars! When you don’t want them they roar past in hundreds!”

  He was right. The highway was deserted. Graham looked worried and kept glancing back. The girls were obviously feeling the strain of the forced march.

  As they marched Stephen kept checking his mobile phone and shaking his head. “Still no service,” he muttered.

  Their route led them down across a grassy dip, then up beside the highway again. On their right was a hundred metres of open field, then the tramline and a dirt road which led up a steep slope to a shack or shed. On the left they came to a field of standing sugar cane. Graham stopped and pointed down the dirt vehicle track which led around the cane headland.

  “I think we should go that way, get out of sight till we can get closer to that farm house at the bend along there.”

  He indicated a farm house on a low ridge about a
kilometre ahead on the right of the highway.

  Peter looked anxiously up and down the highway. Still not a car in sight. Graham’s idea appealed. He felt very exposed walking beside the highway.

  If the Devil Worshippers come driving along they will be onto us instantly, he mused. And they will probably shoot first and ask questions later!

  With that thought he gave a nod and indicated he approved.

  Graham turned off and led them down the track between the long grass and the sugar cane. Peter felt immediately both safer and more isolated.

  Chapter 10

  ALONG THE TRAMLINE

  The vehicle track they were following was a typical sugar cane headland: two wheel tracks with long grass and weeds on the left and the tall sugar cane overhanging on the right. In places the cane leaves hung so far out that they brushed against them. Joy was the first to register her complaints.

  “Ow! That hurt!” She indicated the back of her hand which showed a smear of blood. “That leaf cut me.”

  Peter nodded. “Yes, you need to watch sugar cane. The leaves have very sharp edges.”

  Graham looked back as he walked. “They have hairs on them too,” he added. “They can make you itch badly if you brush against them.”

  “Thanks very much!” Joy grumbled. “How long do we have to walk along this track?”

  “Only a couple of hundred metres,” Graham replied.

  Sir Richard joined in. “I hope so. I don’t agree with this idea of skulking off. It is very isolated. If we run into trouble no-one will know.”

  “Hopefully we won’t,” Graham replied.

  “It’s very hot!” Megan commented.

  It was too. Down among the cane there was no breeze and the sun was blazing down from a cloudless sky. Peter had to agree as he wiped perspiration from his face.

  The track curved slowly to the right. Ahead of them loomed a steep sided ridge which Peter knew was on the other side of the river. The slopes leading down to the water were thickly clad in rainforest. On the plateau above were cane fields and pasture.

  The track curved further to the right until they were walking along beside the belt of trees marking the river bank on their left. The cane field continued unbroken on their right. Several kilometres ahead a flat topped wall of forested mountains rose to block the western horizon. At their northern end the mountains rose into a tumbled jumble which Peter knew was the Lamb Range.

  Graham pointed ahead. “That is the Atherton Tablelands up on top of those mountains ahead of us,” he explained. He had his map out and was checking their progress.

  Megan frowned. “It looks pretty steep. I hope we don’t have to climb up there,” she said.

  Graham shook his head. “We won’t. If Stephen is right we turn left at the base and go south up the Mulgrave Valley,” he replied.

  As he said this they came to the end of the cane field. Ahead on their right was a recently harvested field. It was several hundred metres wide but on the far side was the highway, and, just beyond it, the farm house on the low grassy spur. Graham turned right without pausing, leading along the edge of the open field.

  It was even hotter now and Peter wiped more sweat and managed a drink from his water bottle as he walked along. The group spread out in a long single file: Graham, Gwen, Mr Jones, Sir Miles, Sir Richard, Joy, Peter, Megan and Stephen. Stephen continued checking his mobile phone for service but kept shaking his head. Knowing how the valley twisted and turned Peter wasn’t surprised but it was certainly worrying.

  As they trudged along the dusty track Peter began to relax. Not far now, and there were cars on the highway too. He watched a furniture truck come around the bend to the left and head past towards Gordonvale, then a red sports car zip past in the other direction.

  When they were only fifty paces from the highway another car went past. It slowed and turned right up the gravel road which led to the farm house on the low hill ahead of them. Both Gwen and Graham stopped and cried out in dismay.

  “Devil Worshippers!”

  “Are you sure?” Sir Miles asked as he halted behind them.

  “I think so,” Graham replied. “Two men in black; and I thought that was the car I saw back at the place where you parked your car.”

  Peter suddenly felt cold. Worse, he knew he was scared. He had only glimpsed the car so couldn’t enter the discussion.

  Sir Miles asked: “What should we do now?”

  “There are other farms further along,” Graham replied. “Or we can just stop a car on the highway.”

  Gwen gestured towards the farm. “We should hide before those men see us,” she said. The car could not be seen but Peter decided it was reasonable to assume that the highway was visible from up there.

  Peter looked around. He felt very exposed. Whichever way they went they would be walking in the open for hundreds of metres.

  Megan pointed behind her. “Back to the river bank?” she suggested.

  Graham shook his head. “No. If we do then we may as well walk back to Petes Bridge because if we go the other way along the river bank we will still be visible from the highway and the farm.”

  Peter saw that he was right. If they walked back the way they had come to the river bank, they then had to walk along the far side of the open field.

  “Couldn’t we hide in the sugar cane?” Sir Richard asked.

  The cadets all cried out at once. Peter amplified their objections: “No! The leaves would scratch something awful and cane fields are full of snakes. I wouldn’t go into one unless I was actually being chased.”

  Stephen agreed: “Besides, If we were seen going into a cane field they might set fire to it.”

  The cadets all looked at each other in horror. Sir Miles looked puzzled. “Fire? Does sugar cane burn?”

  “Does it burn!” Stephen cried. “Like fury. It would be deadly.”

  Peter nodded. “They sometimes burn the fields just before they harvest them,” he explained. “We have all seen cane fires.”

  “Let’s not stand here debating,” Gwen said.

  Graham nodded. “You are right. Let’s go. Stop the first car that comes along,” he said. He turned and started walking along the dusty track beside the tramline, which again ran beside the highway.

  They walked quickly along. Peter kept glancing up at the farm house on the hill on their right. It was partly hidden by trees and long grass and he could only hope that any Devil Worshippers there weren’t looking. Once again he shivered, despite the sweat which was soaking his shirt and trickling down his face.

  Ahead the dirt track went to the left of a clump of trees. The tramline curved down into a cutting and the highway went right around a bend below the farm house. Peter began to puzzle over which path they should take.

  Graham was obviously thinking the same thing as he halted as they reached the end of the cutting. He turned and looked back along the highway.

  Peter did the same. As he did a vehicle came into view from the east. “Here comes a car,” he said, then his voice seemed to stick in his throat.

  It was a black 4WD and it stopped on a slight rise beside the highway about half a kilometre back.

  “That four-wheel drive,” Peter said. He pointed and his voice trailed off.

  Stephen took off his glasses so he could use his long sight better. “It looks like the one that was at the bottom of the Pyramid,” he said.

  Gwen nodded. “And was seen at the highway bridge in Gordonvale this morning,” she added grimly.

  Joy gasped and looked anxious. “What are they doing? They must have seen us,” she said.

  Graham shook his head. “Not necessarily. They might be looking somewhere else and we aren’t that conspicuous. Come on!” he replied. He turned and started walking quickly into the railway cutting.

  The others followed. Peter’s heart had leapt into his throat with concern and he kept glancing back to see if the vehicle was following. As he did he met Joy’s eyes. She gave a brave little smile but he coul
d tell from her eyes and the tight lines around her brow that she was desperately worried.

  As they made their way into what was now revealed to be a deep, steep-sided cutting Peter called to Graham: “I don’t know that this cutting is a good idea. It might turn into a trap.”

  “No choice,” Graham called back. “If we go left along the edge of the canefield we will be visible for much longer and we can’t go along the highway without being seen.”

  Peter saw at once that he was right. The dirt track which branched off ahead of them led up over a low rise and they would have to walk at least fifty paces in the open to get out of sight. He noted that already the long grass at the start of the cutting hid them. But still he felt uneasy. “Walk as fast as you can then,” he said.

  The others caught his alarm and complied. It was easy walking but certainly felt claustrophobic. The cutting was quite narrow and became deeper and deeper, with steep sides they would only be able to climb with great difficulty. The top of the cutting on both sides was covered in long grass and weeds.

  Anything could hide up there, Peter thought, eyeing the area warily and wondering what they might do if the Devil Worshippers appeared.

  Even as he was thinking this there was a murmured gasp from ahead of him. Peter looked that way and was dismayed to see two youths walking towards them along the tramline. Both were in their late teens or early twenties. One wore dirty blue jeans and a black T-shirt and the other wore jeans and a sleeveless denim jacket. Neither wore a hat.

  Seeing no option Graham kept walking. The others followed. As they got closer Peter thought that the two youths looked very shifty and worried.

  What on earth are these two up to? Are they Devil Worshippers; or just petty crims?

  The two youths tried to avoid their eyes and grunted surly greetings as they passed. Peter decided that they were just two youths. Stephen obviously agreed as he muttered after they had passed: “Going to water their marijuana plot.”

  Peter looked back and nodded, noting that Stephen had the pistol in his hand but hidden from the two youths.

  The pair passed out of sight behind them and the group pressed on through the cutting. This curved right, then left, to come out in a large open area. Water glinted ahead.