The Word of God Read online

  For a moment Peter experienced a spasm of fear which later embarrassed him to recall. This was almost instantly replaced by annoyance. “Stop talking about them Stephen. It is the police, I’m sure.”

  “Hope you’re right,” Stephen replied sullenly.

  Graham held up the gun. “If it isn’t then they will have an unhappy time trying to get at us.”

  Peter shivered as he watched the lights. Definitely torches, and only a few hundred metres down the mountain. He told himself that feeling feverish was only from over-exertion but fervently prayed that it was the police.

  In almost complete silence they sat and waited as the lights climbed slowly closer.

  Chapter 5

  FEAR AND HOPE

  It was the police.

  As the torches came closer Peter glimpsed a blue shirt. With that he breathed out, suddenly aware that his chest hurt from the tension. He counted the torches bobbing and weaving up the slope through the trees and decided there were only six of them. As they reached the bottom of the open rocky slope Peter turned on his own torch.

  “Hello! Here we are!” he called.

  The torches stopped and a man called back: “Are you the cadets who sent for the police?”

  “Yes,” Peter shouted. He felt so relieved he wanted to cry aloud.

  Another voice called up to them: “Is that you Peter?”

  Captain Conkey! Now we will be alright, Peter thought.

  “Yes sir,” he called back.

  Three minutes later Capt Conkey and the police group joined them. The captain was dressed in his cadet uniform. With him were two police; a sergeant and a senior constable, and three men in the orange overalls of the State Emergency Service. Capt Conkey was puffing hard. He sat himself on a rock and wiped his brow, then shone his torch over the group. “Hello. Who do we have here? I’m Captain Conkey, OC of the cadet unit and this is Sgt Crowe.”

  Peter stood and made the introductions: “These are the men who were going to be sacrificed by the Devil Worshippers sir. This is Mr Jones from Gordonvale; and these two gentlemen are both knights of the Catholic Church.”

  Sir Miles and Sir Richard came forward and shook hands with Capt Conkey and introduced themselves. Capt Conkey was too polite to query what a knight of the Catholic Church might be but the police sergeant had no hesitation.

  “Knights? Do you mean like in the middle ages? Sorry, I don’t understand,” the sergeant said.

  Sir Miles answered: “Yes, we are members of a Holy Order of Knights. We are Knights of the Holy Grail. Our Order is dedicated to carrying out special quests for the Pope.”

  “Special quests! What the devil brings you to North Queensland then?” Sgt Crowe asked.

  “Scarcely the Devil, although we have met his works here,” Sir Miles replied. Peter was intrigued because Sir Miles deftly avoided answering the sergeant.

  Quest? What could it be? Peter wondered.

  Sgt Crowe appeared not to notice. He wiped sweat from his face and gulped at water from a bag slung over his shoulder. “Yes, what is all this about Devil Worshippers? We got the most extraordinary tale from the two at the bottom.”

  Peter spoke first: “Are Charmaine and Dean alright sir? We were worried that something might have happened to them. We expected you hours ago.”

  “They were delayed by some characters they had to hide from,” Capt Conkey replied. “They saw three men in black arrive at the bottom of the hill just after you had left. They said that one was all dressed in black robes like a monk. Two of them, including the monk, went up the hill leaving the third on guard so Charmaine and Dean had to stay hidden till he left.”

  As Capt Conkey said this Peter felt the most extraordinary cold feeling grip his heart and chest. More Devil Worshippers! That means they could still be somewhere nearby.

  Stephen joined them. “If they started up the mountain just after us they might still be in the area,” he suggested.

  Capt Conkey nodded. “The thought had occurred to me,” he replied.

  Graham looked excited. “They might have met up with some of the jokers we bumped into at the top,” he said.

  “That’s a possibility,” Peter agreed.

  Graham went on. “I was hoping you would come in a helicopter sir,” he said cheerfully.

  Sgt Crowe grunted. “That would have been nice,” he replied. “I’m getting too old to be tramping up bloody mountains in the dark. We would have come by chopper but the only one available is away rescuing a deckhand off a prawn trawler who caught his arm in a winch. It should arrive in a couple of hours. Now, what’s all this about Devil Worshippers?”

  Peter gestured up the mountain. “There were Devil Worshippers sir,” he replied. “Five of them. They had these men here tied up and were torturing them and were going to kill them.”

  Sgt Crowe frowned. “You can’t be sure of that,” he replied.

  “Oh yes we can!” Stephen interjected. “We found other bodies.”

  Joy sucked in her breath with a sharp gasp. Peter wished Stephen hadn’t mentioned them. The memory was enough to make him feel nauseous.

  Gwen spoke for the first time. “Is that why you didn’t want us to come down to help get that injured man up the cliff?”

  Peter nodded. “Yes, sorry.”

  Sgt Crowe was sceptical. “This all sounds a bit far fetched to me. You’d better tell me about it.”

  Peter gestured downhill. “Can we get these men down the mountain first sir?” he asked. “They are hurt and badly in need of a drink.”

  Capt Conkey nodded. “Yes, water. Here. I brought extra bottles,” he said. In his pack were four water bottles which were handed around. “Half each.”

  The water tasted wonderful. Peter swilled it around in his mouth and sipped it slowly, aware that he was very flushed and hot, and that his skin was dry to the touch.

  Gwen took a drink then said: “There is an injured man back up there. We must get him to hospital quickly. He is badly hurt.”

  Sgt Crowe looked concerned. “How did that happen?” he asked.

  “He fell over the cliff during the fight,” Gwen replied.

  “Fight? What the devil happened?” Sgt Crowe demanded.

  Peter replied. “We had to fight to rescue these men.”

  Capt Conkey shook his head. “I don’t believe this! A fight on top of the Pyramid with Devil Worshippers! Can’t you kids go out on a simple hike with getting into trouble every time?”

  “Oh sir! Fair go,” Peter replied. He shook his head but knew what Capt Conkey meant. It was hardly the first time they had become inadvertently involved in serious events.

  Sgt Crowe interrupted: “Tell me the outline of what happened so we can get things moving to rescue this fellow who is hurt.”

  By tacit consent Peter was elected story teller. He outlined how they had been warned, then climbed the Pyramid and the events on top. Sgt Crowe asked a few questions, then took out a mobile phone and moved off to one side to use it.

  Peter sat and stared out at the twinkling lights of Gordonvale and Cairns. There was home and normality only half an hour’s drive away. He shook his head. It was hard to believe alright.

  Most of the others lay down. Capt Conkey asked a few more questions about events at the top. Sgt Crowe then called him over. Capt Conkey made his way along the steep rock face. Peter could just see the two men silhouetted against the stars. He wished he could hear what they were saying but their voices were only a faint murmur. All that could be made out was that Capt Conkey was supporting their story.

  After a few minutes both men returned. Sgt Crowe then explained what was to happen. “We are going to continue on to the top to rescue this injured fellow. Constable Clive here will take you people down the mountain. Another constable is there with your other two cadets. An SES team is expected within the hour. The helicopter is on its way back to Cairns but has to be refuelled so won’t be here for another two hours. We should be on top by then. Will this fellow be hard to fin
d?”

  Peter shook his head. “Shouldn’t be sir. We left him right in the middle of the track.”

  Stephen shook his head. “He might have come round and crawled away,” he suggested.

  “Damn! Could he fall over a cliff if he did?” Sgt Crowe asked.

  Stephen shook his head. “Don’t think so sir. It was steep, and there is a lot of thick undergrowth and bushes.”

  Graham spoke up: “I will come with you to show you the exact spot if you like sir.”

  “Are you up to it?” Sgt Crowe asked.

  “Yes sir,” Graham replied confidently.

  “Would you be able to show us where these bodies are while we are up there?” Sgt Crowe asked.

  Graham hesitated for an instant before saying yes. Peter could imagine how he felt.

  Sgt Crowe turned to Capt Conkey. “Is that alright Captain?”

  Capt Conkey nodded. “Yes. If Graham is willing that is fine by me. Do you want me to come with you, or go back down with the others?”

  “Help these people down thanks Captain,” Sgt Crowe replied.

  The remainder of the water was handed to Graham to carry up the mountain. Joy asked anxiously if he wasn’t too tired. Graham laughed softly as he drained the half-empty water bottles into his own. “I’m fine. Bushwalking is my hobby.”

  Sgt Crowe stood up: “OK, let’s get moving.”

  The two groups moved off in different directions. Peter called ‘Good luck’ to Graham who grinned and headed back up the mountain.

  Stephen called after him: “You just want a ride in a helicopter.”

  Graham laughed again. Sgt Crowe muttered that they might all have to walk back down, depending who else came in the chopper.

  That won’t worry Graham, Peter thought. He had seen him march many kilometres at night in other emergencies. He loves this sort of thing. I wish I did!

  At least Peter felt safer. Now that they had Capt Conkey and the policeman with them he felt quite relaxed, if exhausted. Surely the Devil Worshippers wouldn’t try anything with an armed policeman around?

  The first part of the descent was slow as they had to carefully negotiate the large open area of exposed rock, then an area of rough scree thick with stunted timber. Even with a torch it was slow going. During the halt their muscles had stiffened up and it took a while for them to warm up and for the pain to subside. It was hard going and got worse as the track seemed to go on downwards for ever.

  Capt Conkey took the lead, walking slowly and frequently looking back to check that the others were keeping pace. He had a powerful torch which he kept directed at the ground near his feet. Peter had his own torch but already its battery was showing signs or running flat.

  The ridge levelled out for a while, then went on down at a gentler angle. At places it was sandy and easy to walk along but most of the way was studded by exposed rocks and roots which necessitated constant care. This was very fatiguing to their already tired minds and bodies and after a time it seemed to Peter that they were moving in a sort of nightmare that never ended.

  Nature added to this. Capt Conkey suddenly stopped and Peter bumped into him. A stab of alarm made his heart thud faster.

  “What is it sir?”

  “Blasted snake on the track,” Capt Conkey replied.

  Peter looked past the captain to where the beam of his torch was directed onto the ground two metres ahead. A brown coloured snake about a metre long was sliding very slowly off the track. They stood and watched but the reptile came to a halt in a tuft of grass only a short distance from the track.

  “What’s wrong?” Joy asked from behind them. Peter did not want to say, lest he frighten the others but Stephen stepped out and saw the snake.

  “Bloody snake! Kill the damned thing sir!” he called.

  “Snake!” the others echoed. Peter heard Sir Miles and Sir Richard both mutter ‘Oh my God!’

  “It’s alright,” Capt Conkey said, his voice quite calm. “It isn’t interested in us.”

  He stamped his foot but the snake refused to move. Annoyed the captain stamped some more and muttered what he thought of the stupid snake. When it still would not move he asked Peter for a loan of his staff and used that to prod it.

  “Keep well back please,” Capt Conkey warned.

  “Why? What are you doing?” the constable called.

  “Just encouraging this blasted snake to shift itself out of the way,” Capt Conkey replied. With that he nudged the snake again.

  Sir Miles stared wide-eyed. “Isn’t that dangerous, to stir the creature up?” he asked anxiously.

  Capt Conkey laughed. “It could be, but I think this fellow is some sort of python. Ah! There he goes. Oh blast the thing!”

  To their annoyance the snake slid back out onto the track and proceeded to slither slowly down the track ahead of them. Capt Conkey followed, his torch directed at the snake as it wound ahead of them. Several times he poked at the snake in exasperation. The snake continued to move on the track.

  “He’s very sluggish,” Stephen observed.

  Capt Conkey nodded. “Probably cold and just come out of hibernation,” he replied.

  For several minutes the group moved slowly down the track following the slowly moving snake. Peter was fascinated by the sinuous winding of its body. It seemed to flow along the ground like liquid evil. The thought made him shiver and he felt an intense urge to peer into the dark bush beside the track. So strong was this feeling that he briefly shone his torch in among the trees and bushes bordering the track, half fearing to see one of the Devil Worshipers.

  At length Capt Conkey lost patience. “Oh stupid snake! Get out of our way!” He used Peter’s staff to flick it into the long grass beside the track. It landed and lay motionless, then slid languidly out of sight. The party hurried past, their torches directed at the spot where it was last seen.

  The weary downward trudge resumed, each step seeming harder than the last. Peter knew he was tiring and that worried him.

  I am used to this sort of thing. So if I feel had it then Joy and Megan must be exhausted, he thought.

  The track wound on down. Once they lost it for a few minutes but Capt Conkey told them to wait and backtracked fifty paces to pick it up again. Peter’s rational mind told him they were making steady progress but he was now so tired that his eyes were starting to lose focus at times. He rubbed them and licked dry lips.

  “How much further?” Megan bleated.

  Peter answered. “Not far now. We are on the last part of the ridge.”

  The last few hundred metres seemed to be the worst. There were several steep rocky sections which had to be carefully negotiated, their hot and strained muscles and ligaments complaining at every step. Changes in the vegetation, and the angle at which the sugar mill’s lights were visible through the trees provided Peter with clues to their progress.

  After another ten minutes slow progress Capt Conkey stopped at the bottom of another steep section to wait for the tail of the line to catch up. Peter lowered himself onto a rock with a sigh and wiped perspiration from his face. His shirt was soaked and he was shivering from the strain.

  As he sat there he saw the flicker of vehicle headlights through the trees below and to his left. Two vehicles came around the cane headland and stopped below them. The sound of slamming doors and voices floated up to them.

  “Not far now,” he commented.

  Capt Conkey agreed. “No. The tail has caught up so let’s get it over with,” he said.

  With a groan Peter hoisted himself to his feet and switched on his torch. As he did a powerful spotlight shone up the slope through the trees, then swept off along the mountainside.

  More police? he wondered.

  With slow, painful steps the group resumed their downward march.

  Chapter 6

  GORDONVALE BY NIGHT

  As the group stumbled off the rough track one after another several men, just visible in the blinding light, walked over to meet them. As they got close
r Peter saw that they were dressed in suits. At a signal the spotlight was switched off and a lamp turned on in its place which allowed them to see who was there.

  The man with the rough voice spoke again: “I am Inspector Goldstein and I am in charge of this case. Who have we got here?”

  The group introduced themselves one by one, starting with Capt Conkey. While they did Peter took a closer look at the inspector. He was a lean man in his middle thirties with a moustache and a hard manner.

  I don’t think I’ll cross this bloke! was Peter’s main impression.

  In the light of the lamp Peter was able to see that two more uniformed policemen were also present. The other two men in suits were very obviously plain clothes policemen.

  Inspector Goldstein pointed to where several vehicles were parked beside the cane field. “All you cadets go and wait over there. You too please Captain. While you are there do not say anything to anyone about what you have seen or done. All you are to say is that you found an injured bushwalker and tried to help. Is that clear?”

  “Yes sir,” they chorused.

  “Good. I mean it. Now go over there with Constable Clive. Sir Miles, Sir Richard, Mr Jones, wait here please.”

  Peter turned with the others and walked towards the parked cars. Joy walked beside him.

  “Rude man! He could have said please,” she muttered.

  “And thank you!” Gwen added.

  “Fair go,” Capt Conkey said. “He was probably just sitting down to dinner at home and was ordered here. I’d be a bit short tempered too I think.”

  Stephen sighed. “I like that idea of sitting down to dinner,” he commented. “I could eat a horse.”

  Gwen chuckled. “You can if you like but I think I’ll have a proper meal,” she replied.

  That raised the first small laugh since the adventure had begun. By then they had arrived at the cars, to find Dean and Charmaine waiting there, guarded by another policeman.

  Capt Conkey went over to them. “Are you two alright?” he asked.

  “Yes sir. Just a bit bored and cold,” Charmaine replied.

  “I wish we were!” Stephen grumbled. “Is there anything to eat or drink?”