Fire Cult

by R. B. Shaw

  ‘Some deal. I don’t like crossing the Devil’s Slide. I did it once and it’s a terrifying experience.’

  ‘I’ll guarantee a thousand next week, and make it two grand if we find Seiji’s father and the lost shipment,’ Dave offered grudgingly.

  Joe pondered the offer. ‘Okay. It’s a deal. I won’t take you to the pit itself, but I’ll point it out to you from above.’

  They moved on past the boundary of skulls along a steep pathway totally devoid of vegetation. Grand views of the Bismarck Sea and the northern coast spread out below them.

  The awesome Devil’s Slide was a gaping bite out of the summit rim. Deep vertical grooves scored the sheer black cliffs as if clawed away by some titanic beast. A narrow carved ledge provided a meandering pathway for half a kilometre across the deadly drop.

  Joe pointed along the treacherous face. ‘This is the trail I warned you about. In places landslides have breached it. The Sangami have hammered stakes into the face and made elevated sapling platforms to fill the gaps.’ In the still silence, only Joe’s voice echoed back around the enormous concave face.

  Fractured lava littered the shelf surface. It shone like shards of black glass and crunched beneath Dave’s boots like broken bottles. ‘Looks like we got no choice but to trust the native labour along the ledge.’

  Joe led the way. ‘Watch your footing. No one could survive that drop, and even a fall on the ledge is dangerous—those lava shingles are incredibly sharp.’

  They moved cautiously along the narrow path and carefully crossed the creaking timber platforms. The saplings felt loose, so they each leaned against the sheer vertical face for stability. Even with his reckless attitude, Dave found it intimidating.

  Beyond the Devil’s Slide, verdant jungle slopes came into view. They hurried towards the thin vegetation line through stunted tundra grass. The forest thickened and the stifling humidity of the dank jungle again enveloped them.

  ‘We’ll take this side trail.’ Joe nervously mopped his forehead. ‘It leads to a ridge above the sacred pit. A lot safer in case any of the Fire Cult turn up. They tolerate me being around, they know it’s my job, but they get aggressive with strangers.’

  The rugged trail eventually led back up a steep ridge. They broke through the tangle of vegetation to a commanding view of the whole north side of the island. Below lay the pit, a rather innocuous sinkhole in the surrounding terrain.

  ‘Is that it?’ Jan grunted with undisguised disappointment.

  ‘That’s it. A very old volcanic vent that’s collapsed. Its extremely deep over an old lava chamber.’

  ‘It looks so innocent, despite the terrible reputation.’

  ‘It hasn’t been used for a while. You can see some old bits of charred timber ‘round the edge from the previous ceremony. With a full moon coming, they’ll soon start building another platform ready for the next ritual. I know they’ve got at least three dead. By tradition, they must go over the pit.’

  ‘Why on the full moon?’ Dave queried.

  ‘In Sangami legend, the dead are restless and free to roam during the full moon. Very specific too—they only light the wooden grid when the moon is in a precise position in relation to the volcano. Anyway, we better head back if we want to reach the coast road before nightfall.’

  Jan stared at the pit. ‘The bottom of that sinkhole would be an archaeologist’s delight.’

  Dave agreed. ‘If the legend of the Sangami’s been followed, it’s likely the gold could be laying at the bottom.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Jan.

  ‘According to their rites, any person who went over the pit took their valuables with them.’ Dave scanned the terrain around the pit for approach paths and any restrictions for access by helicopter. ‘If Ted and Harada’s father had the gold with them, it probably went down the pit.’

  ‘That would’ve been too much weight for them to carry.’ Jan frowned. ‘Unless the warriors captured it and then tried to dispatch it with them.’

  ‘Right. So we can’t discount the fact that the gold could be in there. We’ll discuss it with Ted when we return. I’ll work out a way to get down in there and have a look if we have to.’

  ‘But there would be centuries of sludge and debris at the bottom as well as hundreds of corpses.’

  Retrieval from the pit did look a daunting task. ‘An extended winch cable on the chopper might work.’

  Joe waited without comment, anxious to leave and was relieved when Dave and Jan finally turned away.

  With no positive results, Dave felt frustrated by the trek. ‘Well, we’ve seen the fabled Sangami firepit but there’s not a shred of evidence. Nothing linking the Sangami with Seiji’s father or the gold.’

  ‘Except Ted’s dreams and experience.’ Jan’s face betrayed her disappointment. ‘We need to thoroughly check the access trail from the barge at Kulili, all the way to the pit. It seems unavoidable, but eventually I think we’ll have to trespass on Kless’s land.’

  ‘Can’t base anything on a dream.’ Dave’s frustration turned to desperation. ‘We’re so close. I’m gonna slip down and take a closer look, Jan.’

  ‘I’m coming too.’

  ‘No, stay put and keep watch.’ He handed her his pistol. ‘You can see all approaches to the pit from here.’

  ‘I wouldn’t advise it,’ said Joe, still wary.

  Dave moved cautiously down through thick scrub. A vague trail led him in the direction of the firepit. It intersected with a well-worn trail through the jungle. Dave followed it north. The vegetation thinned—he must be close. Stopping to get his bearings, he barely noticed the silver thread drop down past his eyes. The wire bit deep into his neck and his assailant hauled him savagely backwards. Dave gasped for air and tried to grab the wire. A knee pushed firmly into the small of his back. The noose of the garrotte pulled tighter.

  Dave stemmed his panic and struggled to keep his footing. He dropped his right hand, cursing himself for not having his pistol and unsheathed his knife instead. He slashed blindly behind to no avail. The attacker faltered briefly and the pressure eased slightly as he avoided the blade.

  Dave’s protective mask still hung limply around his neck. The mask and its rubber strap partly obstructed the garrotte. He forced the point of his knife up through the tiny gap and felt the blade slicing his own flesh. The garrotte again pulled tighter.

  The point of the blade lanced the skin beneath his chin. He fought frantically to pivot the handle of the knife so the blade edge turned to the wire. It gave temporary relief as the knife partially took the load. An elemental conflict now parallelled the physical. Dave strained and gouged the tempered tungsten-edged blade against the hi-tensile stainless steel, hoping to sever the tough wire. He now risked cutting his own throat. The situation demanded try-or-die anyway. Forcing the knife away with all his strength, the wire suddenly snapped. Without the support of the garrotte, his attacker stumbled backward and swore. Dave spun around, blood streaming from his neck wounds.

  Harada quickly leapt to his feet, discarded the broken ends of the garrotte and pulled his knife. The big Japanese charged.

  Dave deftly sidestepped, reflexes boosted by his brush with death.

  The force of Harada’s thrust embedded his knife deep into Dave’s backpack. Harada frantically tried to tug it free. The blade remained jammed.

  Dave waved his knife. Indispensable as a survival aid, the multi-function Ventura Explora felt puny and almost useless in such a deadly encounter. His hurried upswing fell short. It slashed through Harada’s shirtfront and opened a shallow wound across his shoulder.

  Harada gave up trying to retrieve his knife and cursed when he saw his own blood. He grabbed Dave’s knife hand and they grappled, each trying to toss the other off balance. In his weakened condition, Harada could not match Dave’s sinewy strength and agility. Harada back-stepped to evade the glinting blade being forced toward his face. He knelt as Dave stood over him, smiling defiantly.

  Despite his advantage, D
ave had no response for Harada’s martial arts skills. Harada kneed Dave forcefully in the groin and shoved him clear. Dave still controlled the standoff, knife in hand. Harada stood his ground as Dave circled, feigning lunges. Jabbering along the trail took Dave’s attention long enough for Harada to deftly kick the knife from his hand.

  Harada dived for the weapon, tumbled painfully on his lacerated shoulder and sprang to his feet, knife in hand. They circled each other like wild beasts. Harada charged and Dave caught his wrist. Suddenly they locked together, struggling for control, searching for weak spots. Harada’s martial arts again came in to play as he hooked his leg behind Dave’s ankles and knocked him off balance. Harada prepared to pounce as two gunshots shattered their deadly combat. Both men started and turned to see Jan on the trail, pistol in hand. Joe stood silent well behind her.

  ‘Drop the knife, or the next shot’s in your head!’

  Harada smiled sardonically and moved out of Dave’s reach toward her. ‘You haven’t got the guts, bitch.’

  Jan did not reply. She fired another round so close to Harada’s ear that the tiny shock wave left him briefly deafened. Harada’s smile vanished and he dropped the knife. He stood motionless, his shirtfront slashed and dark with blood.

  Dave joined Jan and Joe. ‘Move away from the knife, over there!’ he ordered, then grabbed his knife as more jabbering came from down the trail. The gunshots must have attracted attention.

  A strange mumbling figure emerged from the bush and blocked the trail. Though unarmed, the colourful native hissed aggressively like a snake. Gaudy bands of white lime and purple ochre coated his entire near-naked body. He began shouting a monotonous incantation and waved his arms about them with animated extended fingers. Two gruesome boar tusks pierced his lower lip.

  Joe retreated nervously. ‘Let’s get back. We’re in enough shit. That’s the cult sorcerer and he’s putting some sort of curse on us.’ A tall woven cap graced the sorcerer’s head. Long bamboo extensions lengthened his gesticulating fingers. A bundle of bound flying fox bones hung from his cane waistband alongside a small plugged clay pot.

  They moved back carefully as a group of warriors armed with bows and arrows followed the sorcerer. Harada realised he now had Stark outnumbered. While Jan was pre-occupied, he shoved Joe against her as cover, made his escape and joined the shouting warriors. Harada urged the Sangami to attack but Jan covered them with the pistol. Dave and Jan retreated and followed Joe up the trail while Harada argued with the confused Sangami warriors.

  As they again negotiated the Devil’s Slide, Dave felt suspicion. ‘I hope none of them got past us and up to your detonation controls, Joe.’

  ‘This trail’s the only way. Let’s just get ‘outa here!’

  Once across the slide, they relaxed a little. No pursuit was evident. Harada’s urging had apparently failed to incite the Sangami. Without their support he must have decided not to follow over the exposed volcanic slopes.

  42

  The stress of the violent confrontation and long drive had left Joe tired and confused. Intrigued, he agreed to drop Dave and Jan at Kulili then overnight at their campsite. They reached the coastal road before sunset and followed a sweep of emerald vegetation edged by a seaweed-littered beach. As Joe coaxed the old Ford toward Kulili, his greed peaked and he asked many questions.

  Dave watched the opal blue waters caress the sand and dissolve into foam. He answered Joe vaguely, avoiding any detail. Above, low dark cloud scudded across the evening sky. Having drawn a blank at the pit, he eagerly wanted to see what Fang had found on his last dive.

  When they reached Kulili, Fang and Jake looked dejected even though all the boxes and containers raised from the barge lay safely on the beach. Joe disliked Fang and elected to take the Zodiac out to see Ted who was helping Seiji decipher old barge documents aboard the Lahara.

  ‘How’d you go on the volcano, Dave?’ Fang questioned.

  ‘Spectacular, but didn’t achieve much. Saw the pit and tangled with Harada. We had him briefly but the Sangami turned up.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Tell you about it later. Did Jake and Seiji find anything in the bush beyond here?’

  ‘Nothin’,’ Fang grunted as he busily chipped away at an old box encrusted with coral polyps. ‘But we got four heavy boxes, all from the aft compartment of the barge. This might be some of the gold.’

  Ominously, the boxes leaked water, definitely not waterproof. Fang chiselled coral from the latch and hinges, then levered the lid up with a small pinchbar. This action revealed blackened seawater, rotted cloth and a gleaming slurry of gold dust.

  ‘Shit! We got some! Open the others!’

  There was no such luck with the other three boxes. Each contained a stinking and sodden mass of ruptured ration cans. However, Jan valued the gold dust from the first box at over $28,000. The find eased their financial burden and rekindled their enthusiasm to find the rest of the gold.

  ‘You sure you got all the boxes?’ said Dave.

  ‘Yeah. Searched every compartment in the barge and the area around it, in case some dropped overboard.’

  Jan was more optimistic. ‘This is a major breakthrough. It does prove the gold got to Karkar Island. We’ve also recovered about eighty thousand dollars worth of gold in total.’

  Dave was encouraged and realised the find confirmed Ted’s recollections that most of the gold reached the shore. It would not be enough to satisfy the ruthless creditors who were still seeking him in Port Moresby. The remoteness of Karkar Island and martial law probably prevented them following him from Madang.

  Fang’s thoughts were elsewhere as he opened a beer and sat down against his favourite coconut palm. ‘Dave, we need the Angry Egg desperately. It’ll take years to search the swamps, jungle and volcano slopes. We’ll need a chopper to rescue Tiana and Lani as well.’

  ‘I’ll give Madang a call and check if the Egg’s nearly ready. If not, maybe they’ve got one for charter.’ After making his call, Dave saw his native sentry leading someone into camp out of the twilight gloom. ‘Fang, it’s Tiana.’

  Jeans and a white tee shirt emphasised the smooth caramel of her skin and black gloss of her hair. She smiled a greeting and made straight for Fang.

  ‘Did you get it?’ he said hopefully. Despite the value of the diary, proof of Tiana’s honesty and allegiance concerned him.

  She offered a yellow envelope stuffed with A4 pages. ‘Not the original diary, but I photocopied every page while Kless is away in Madang.’

  Dave smiled with elation. ‘Great work, Tiana. Stay awhile and tell us what you can about Kless and Harada’s progress. Any clue could be vitally important.’

  ‘They’re often discussing the Fire Cult and a cave,’ she offered.

  Jan was busy checking her video of the volcano trek, but interrupted. ‘You mean the pit?’

  ‘No, a cave. All their searches are now centred in the foothills, below the villages of the Sangami and one by one they’re eliminating caves. There’s also a photocopy there of the map they’re using.’

  Dave quickly singled out the map and studied the fascinating details intently. ‘We’ll get these out to Seiji at once.’

  Jan paused, suspicious then turned on Tiana. ‘Why are you helping us?’

  Tiana hesitated briefly. ‘Chris said if I copied the diary he would arrange to help rescue Lani from Kless.’ She glanced at Fang, ‘And Chris has become very special to me. I needed to prove myself.’

  Jan remained unconvinced. ‘Why should we believe her, Dave? These copies could be forged to mislead us. There’s been no mention of a cave. All clues pointed to the Sangami Fire Cult.’

  ‘It’s genuine,’ Tiana insisted angrily. ‘I have no reason to lie to you!’

  ‘You’ve got a poor track record, ‘Jan sneered. ‘A hooker in Madang; you’ve tricked information from Fang before, and we’ve seen you on call at “Kless’s Bordello” for group orgies. Like the diary, I think you’re a fake!’

>   ‘That was Lani working in Madang!’ Tiana’s fiery temper surfaced. ‘You saw how much alike we are. I admit I met you at the Madang Hotel and coaxed information for Kless, but I was forced into it to try to save my sister. Despite Kless’s threats, I’ve never been involved in his disgusting parties!’ She glared at Jan briefly, then turned on Fang. Her pathetic plea was almost a whisper. ‘You said you would help me free Lani.’

  ‘Don’t listen to her, Fang.’ Jan cautioned. ‘She’s playing on your sympathies again.’

  Fang broke the volatile standoff. ‘We gotta do it, Jan. It’s too important not to prove one way or the other.’

  Dave took the envelope. ‘Tiana stays. Seiji’ll soon tell us if the copied diary is real. I’ll call Jake to come in with the Zodiac. He can take it out to Seiji and let him decide.’

  ‘Okay, but I think you’re wasting time,’ Jan stated, then ostentatiously busied herself reviewing videotape.

  After Jake took the photocopies back to Seiji on the Lahara, Dave checked the radio was on their private frequency. Everyone waited on Seiji’s call. An awkward silence prevailed, disturbed only by the rustling palms and the pulse of the surf. Tiana stood arms folded, silent and angry as the radio call finally came.

  Dave keyed the microphone. ‘Seiji, you said you’d read part of the original diary. You reckon it’s real, or is it a fake?’

  Everyone waited for the reply, but only Dave could hear as he listened on earphones.

  ‘You’re absolutely sure about that? Okay, come ashore and bring the others. We’ve got a lot to discuss.’ Dave turned to Jan. ‘Seiji’s 100% sure it’s real. He recognised passages and said the style, faded writing and page continuity are indisputable. Even age spots and page curling are evident in the photocopies. He reckons it could yield some important clues.’

  Jan relented and turned to Tiana without hesitation. ‘I apologise for what I said. You must understand, we had to be absolutely certain about you. Welcome to our group and please, stay the night. We’ll see if we can help you somehow.’