The Sean Wyatt Series Box Set 4

by Ernest Dempsey

  Jack hopped out of the SUV and motioned to his men to take the prisoners off the truck bed and herd them toward the trail.

  His men did as told, forcing Sean and the others off the truck. They marched reluctantly to the trail head and beyond until the parking area was out of sight.

  Reece led the way since he knew where they were headed. "Never thought I'd be coming to this gorge with a gun pointed at me," he said.

  "You hang around us long enough," Tommy said, "you'll get used to it."

  "No offense, Tom, but I'd rather not get used to having a gun aimed at me."

  "It's an acquired taste," Sean said.

  "Quiet, you three," Jack snapped from a few guys back on the trail. "Unless you want to cut that arrangement short now. I got no problem dumping your bodies down the gorge."

  "Probably going to do that anyway," Sean muttered.

  "Don't give him any ideas," Tommy said.

  The men kept marching down the trail, by dried brush and diminutive trees until they reached a point where the trail opened. To their right, a wall of dark red rocks jutted up into the sky.

  The surface of the stone wall was covered in dozens of circles, lines, white hands, and a myriad of other designs. Tommy drifted unconsciously over to the symbols and ran his fingers over the rock, making sure he didn't touch the art itself.

  "So tell us what it all means," Jack said, standing a good three yards away from the American.

  "It doesn't work like that," Tommy said. "Each of these symbols could have a different meaning. We have to interpret that first and then figure out how it all ties together with the riddle from the cube."

  Jack considered his response and then pursed his lips. He shook his head. "No, I'll tell you how it's going to work. You get thirty minutes. By then, tourists will start showing up. Can't have that, now can we? So if you don't have this little puzzle figured out in a half hour, well...I'll just have my men go ahead and kill the lot of you."

  "Half an hour? These things can take months."

  "You have thirty minutes. And I already started the clock. You'd best get to it."

  Tommy glanced at his friends. Reece and Sean looked back at him with sympathetic eyes.

  "We'll do our best," Sean said for Tommy.

  He moved close and stared up at the wall.

  "Any ideas?" Tommy whispered.

  "Yeah, but they all involve the guns these guys took from us at the campsite."

  "Touché."

  Reece stepped close. "What are you two talking about?"

  "Fanciful dreams where we have guns, and those guys are all bleeding to death on the ground," Sean answered.

  "Well, those kinds of things don't really get us out of this situation, now do they? I was thinking more in terms of understanding what we're looking at?"

  "It's nonsense," Tommy said in a hushed tone so their keepers couldn't hear. "All of this, it's gibberish. There's no pattern to any of it. These circles point to these?" He motioned with his hand as he spoke. "And then you have these pointing off to another set." His hand waved again to other corresponding circles. "And I still have no idea what all these white hands mean."

  "Stop worrying about those hands, and focus," Sean said. "We have to live long enough to make a move. I don't care if you have to make up the details."

  The men spent twenty minutes studying the wall, desperately trying to understand the code embedded in rock. When twenty-five minutes had passed, Jack gave them a reminder. "You blokes have five minutes left. Then we'll just dump you in the gorge."

  Sean took a step back and examined the dark red surface. There were circles on top of circles, like the entire journey up to this point would only end in mass confusion—as was represented by the art.

  The only thing that seemed different in the drawings was the figure of a human that lingered high above the rest. At first, Sean didn't think much of it. He and the other two largely ignored the aberration because it lacked detail and wasn't really similar to anything they'd seen before.

  Maybe it was time to give it a second look.

  He gazed at the image, twisting his head back and forth.

  Tommy was next to him, counting to himself. Sean figured his friend was trying to see if there was a numerical meaning to all the symbols.

  Sean had noticed that the figure drawn into the rock had a strange body shape. While Baiame had been a skinny figure with long arms and legs, this one had those thin appendages, but the torso was swollen and rotund. Inside it was another large circle with several dots smattered on it. One dot in the middle was slightly bigger than all the others.

  "What about that figure?" Sean said to Tommy. "Think it has anything to do with what we're looking for?"

  "I was wondering the same thing," Reece said.

  "I took a look at it earlier," Tommy answered. "It doesn't seem to be like anything we've seen. It's just random. Like everything else on this wall."

  Sean frowned and looked back up at the figure. "Wait a minute. Think, Tommy. When all this started, we went to Baiame Cave. We're looking for the boomerang of Baiame."

  "Right... Where are you going with all this?"

  "The Baiame story, Schultzie. What does the legend say happened to this god?"

  Tommy shrugged. "I don't know. I only read a little about it. According to the story, he left the people of Earth from the top of a mountain."

  "Which mountain?"

  Tommy's eyes went wide as he realized Sean had just unraveled the code. "Yengo," he whispered. "The story said Baiame ascended into the sky from the top of Mount Yengo." Then his temporary high vanished. "Even if that is the right place, it has to be a huge area. We don't know where to look once we're there."

  Sean turned his head and spied the dots in the middle of the circle on Baiame's torso. "I do."

  "Time's up," Jack said as he stepped forward toward the three friends. "Do you have the solution for me, or do we start dumping bodies into the ravine?"

  "We know where to go next," Tommy said.

  "Tell me. Maybe I'll make your deaths quick."

  "No," Sean said. "See, here's the problem. We know where you need to go next, but you have no idea. I'm willing to bet you can't figure it out like we just did. So, as I see it, you're going to need to take us with you to the next location."

  "I think maybe you're bluffing," Jack said after a moment of careful thought. "Maybe you don't know the solution to this riddle and you're just trying to bide your time, hoping my men and I slip up."

  Sean stared through him. "Do you want your golden boomerang or not? I'm thinking your boss, Mr. Holmes, would rather have it sooner than later." He waited for a minute as Jack considered. "Or you could just kill us right now and then never find the stupid thing. I'm sure Holmes would be happy about that."

  Jack clenched his jaw. "You do realize that you are going to have to tell us where we're going before we get there. Once you do that, what need do I have for you anymore?"

  "I thought you might ask that," Sean said. "Even if I told you the name of the place you need to go, you could search for a hundred years and never find where that boomerang is hidden."

  "And I suppose you know the exact location?"

  Sean's head moved up and down. "Yeah."

  "And you'll lead us right to it?"

  "More or less."

  Tommy and Reece watched the exchange like a fierce tennis match of words lobbed back and forth.

  "For your sake, I hope it's more." Jack turned to his henchmen. "Back to the trucks. Let's get out of here before the visitors start arriving. Tie these three down in the back of the pickup, and keep a close eye on them. If any one of them tries anything stupid, shoot them."

  Jack stepped close to Sean, again hovering over him like a statue. "If you're lying to me and wasting my time, I'll make sure you die very slowly."

  33

  Sydney

  Camera crews wedged in closer to the podium to try and get a better angle. Flashes went off across the room. Repor
ters sat on the edges of their seats, eagerly awaiting what the chairman would say. Some held up their smartphones to record the press conference. Laps were full of notepads with notes jotted down—questions to be asked of the petroleum giant's head man.

  Bernard Holmes stepped out into the light from behind a dark blue curtain. He offered a solemn grin, keeping in character with the sadness he wished to portray. Much had been made of the recent elevator tragedy that killed his board of directors. He'd pretended to be reluctant about taking the reins on his own but promised to put together a new board from some of the more active shareholders.

  Many called it a miracle that he'd survived. Others had said it was a lucky coincidence he'd stayed behind to do a little extra work in the office. Then there were a few who claimed the whole thing was a conspiracy—all engineered by Holmes so that he could gain total control of the company.

  Those mouths were soon hushed.

  In the old days, Holmes would have simply had the conspiracy theorists murdered. It was the way things were handled. Now—in the digital age—things had to be taken care of with subtler tactics.

  With the resources Holmes had at his disposal, it was easy enough to make things happen rapidly.

  One reporter who'd written an article about the Holmes theory was arrested for heroin possession just three days after the piece was published. Police dragged him out of his home, kicking and screaming as he tried to proclaim his innocence. Another writer was taken into custody after authorities—working on an anonymous tip—found ten gigabytes of child pornography on his computer.

  The one that made Holmes laugh, though, was the reporter who actually had done something wrong. The guy had a cocaine addiction, which provided the perfect cover for a hit. Holmes made sure the writer was supplied with a doctored stash of blow. Two days later, the man was found dead of an overdose by the river, sitting in his car.

  If anyone else had suspicions regarding Holmes and the deaths of everyone on his board, they kept quiet about it.

  He gripped the edges of the podium and looked out at the dozens of eager people. He pinched his lips together as if hesitating for a moment and then began his speech.

  "Life gives us many challenges. We are tasked with things that often we believe are too difficult for us to bear. Sometimes these trials carry tragedy with them, as is the case with my..." He faltered for a second to add effect. "Pardon me." He cleared his throat and began again. "As is the case with my coworkers and friends on the board.

  "First off, I would like to once more extend my condolences to the families of those we lost in that vicious terrorist attack." He looked down at a middle-aged woman in the front row. Her blonde hair cascaded over the shoulders of her $3,000 dress. She dabbed one of her eyes, fighting back a tear. Holmes had to fight back a laugh. The woman had been married to one of the men on the board. Clearly a gold digger, she was twenty-five years younger than her husband. With his death, she'd become even wealthier than before. Holmes would give her time to mourn before he called on her.

  He went on. "This company has experienced extraordinary growth over the last five years. Their leadership and abilities to guide us to tremendous success cannot be questioned. Now we are left with the task of trying to find our way through without them."

  Stocks had dropped by nearly half once the news of the elevator incident hit the airwaves. Holmes wasn't stupid enough to sell off his stock before the murders. He knew prices would go down, which is why he had Jack sell off every piece of the company he owned and then buy it back tenfold after things bottomed out.

  This press conference would send the stock soaring again. But that was only the beginning.

  "We are entering a tenuous age for this company, and for the energy sector as well. The energy needs of the world are not decreasing. Yesterday, there were seven billion people on Earth. Today there are eight. Tomorrow, there will be ten. All of them will need fuel to get them through their days. We are committed to providing that energy to the people of the world so that the human race can continue progressing forward into the dawn of a new era."

  His crescendo ended with a round of applause from nearly everyone in the room.

  When the clapping died down, he put up a hand. "I can tell you this. No terrorist attack is going to stop us. Our resolve is strong. We will continue moving forward in finding new energy resources. In fact, at this very moment we are working on a deal that will more than double our oil reserves from new deposits our researches have discovered."

  The crowd oohed and aahed over the comment. Doubling the reserves would mean doubling profits. Several reporters raised their hands simultaneously, eager to be the first to ask about the new deposits and their location.

  Holmes ignored their questions and continued. "Our company has faced difficulty before. We will certainly face it again. But I can promise you this, no one will stand in the way of us providing Australia and the world with the energy it needs to move forward. Because if we are not moving forward, we are not progressing. Our number one goal is progress, not just for the company, but for the world."

  The crowd roared again.

  He put up both hands as if to thank them and then waved as he left the podium and disappeared behind the curtain.

  One of his assistants stood close by holding a cell phone in his hand. "It's Mr. Robinson, sir. He said it's urgent."

  "Thank you, Kip," Holmes said as he took the phone.

  He put the device to his ear and walked down the hall to get out of the assistant's range of hearing. "Good news, this time?"

  "Yes, sir. We have the Americans and their friend. We're en route to Yengo National Park. They say that's where we'll find it."

  Holmes raised both eyebrows. "That is good news. I guess my question would be, why do you still have the Americans?"

  "We kept them as an insurance policy. Want to make sure they take us to the right place before we off them."

  "Good thinking," Holmes said with a nod. "If Yengo is indeed where the boomerang is located, let me know as soon as you find it. Once we have it, we can approach the tribes about signing the land over to us. We may even be able to get it cheap." He nearly laughed at the idea.

  "You'll be the first to know," Jack said.

  Holmes hung up the phone and looked out the window at the downtown district of Sydney. People busily rushed around on the sidewalks and in their cars. He allowed himself a broad smile.

  Everything was going according to plan.

  34

  Yengo National Park

  The passengers in the back of the pickup truck tipped back and forth as the driver steered through the curvy roads. Thick forests of green trees whooshed by along the road.

  Sean braced himself with one arm on the truck bed rail. They'd spent the rest of the previous day and all of the night traveling in the back of the pickup. Sleeping wouldn't have been possible except for the injections they'd been given shortly after leaving Flinders.

  The drug worked quickly, and before they knew it, the three companions were out cold.

  While sleeping hadn't been a bad thing, sleeping in the bed of a pickup truck had consequences.

  Tommy groaned next to Sean and rubbed his left shoulder. Reece was next to him, shifting uneasily in an attempt to stretch out his back.

  Pretty much every muscle was sore, but Sean wasn't going to let his captors hear him complain. And he wasn't going to let them see any discomfort. One rule he'd always kept in mind was to let the enemy believe he was invincible, unaffected by things that would bring down mere mortals. It put doubts in the enemy's mind when bullets started flying. Doubts led to weaknesses.

  "Would it have been too much to ask for you guys to put down a mattress?" Tommy asked.

  Sean almost rolled his eyes. Unfortunately, his friend didn't deploy the same mental warfare.

  "I mean seriously, my shoulder is killing me?" Tommy went on.

  "Your shoulder?" Reece said. "My back is all out of sorts."

  Tommy look
ed around at the passing scenery. Temperatures had cooled significantly from the hot desert, and there was more humidity in the air. He glanced over at Reece. "Where are we?"

  Reece peered down the road behind the truck. "From the looks of it, I'd say we're close to Yengo."

  "How long were we out?" Tommy asked.

  "About sixteen hours," Sean said.

  "What? Are you serious?"

  "Why do you think your shoulder is so messed up? You've been unconscious in a truck bed for almost a day."

  Tommy tossed his head back and forth to shake the cobwebs from his mind. "I do feel a bit groggy."

  "That would be the drugs."

  "You guys got any more of that stuff?" Reece said to their guards. "Been having a bit of trouble sleeping lately."

  The two gunmen said nothing.

  Sean chuckled. It was the first time he'd laughed since... He pushed the thought out of his mind. It's not real, he told himself.

  The truck's driver steered the pickup onto a side road. They passed a wooden sign that identified the area as Yengo Mountain. The ride got bumpier as they climbed the base of the mountain. Sharp curves pushed the occupants left and right and back again. The driver was probably driving a little too fast, but Sean knew they were in a hurry.

  While his two friends looked out at the passing view, Sean locked his eyes on the guard nearest him. He stared at the man like he was a piece of meat about to be devoured. At first, the guard returned the icy stare, unflinching. After several minutes, though, Sean could tell the guy was starting to get unsettled. The nervous movements were subtle. A normal person probably wouldn't have noticed. Like they had so many times before, Sean's poker skills of being able to read a person's body language paid off.

  The truck made a sharp turn onto gravel and then another quick turn in the other direction as the driver pulled into an empty parking space. Before Sean took his eyes off the guard, he offered one last smirk before he took a look around.

  The parking area could hold no more than four or five cars and was surrounded by tall trees. The dense forest reminded the Americans of the Blue Ridge Mountains back home and only parted at a trailhead nearby where the path ascended, disappearing around a bend several hundred feet away. To get to the trailhead, the group would have to walk through a gate that apparently protected the mountain from motorized vehicles.