Fire Cult

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Fire Cult Page 29

by R. B. Shaw


  It took a long while to convince Jake to make a brief entry. He looked nervous but eventually crawled down the narrow shaft, torch in hand.

  Within a minute he returned, smeared with guano and looking terrified. ‘There are bodies in there and I saw someone staring. The eye of the devil watched me.’

  With the conditions of the custom met, Seiji took his opportunity without hesitation, and clambered in. As he went, he cleared away the blockage of rubble and noticed that the shaft dropped away to a large cavern. Another putrid body partly blocked the shaft, probably a grave robber. Guano and fungus covered it like a grey velvet cloak. Seiji shone the torch in and saw a staring skeletal figure. The hands were strapped up to the handles of a Woodpecker machine gun with old bandolier webbing. The skeleton’s feet had been blown off. The splintered leg bones looked to be pathetically wrapped in dark rags, a primitive attempt to bandage and seal the stumps of the legs.

  Seiji recognised the gold teeth and faded Manchurian campaign ribbons. A glass eye caught the torchlight and stared back at him, shining in the gloom. The shock devastated him. There could be no mistake. This must be his father. He dragged himself closer, past the rotted corpses of more native grave robbers over ancient bullet shells and crumbling wooden boxes of munitions.

  The floor felt slippery from foul smelling bat guano. He could see piles of canvas bags behind his father. A glimmer of gold sparkled from one of the ruptured sacks. Further back and lower down sat the ragged, uniformed skeletons of his father’s comrades. An evil pale mist surrounded them, like a pool. Some bodies sat upright against the wall. The waist deep mist made it look as if they lounged in a macabre and deadly jacuzzi.

  Seiji retreated and crawled out, overcome with emotion. His eyes were red and brimmed with tears. ‘I have found my father,’ he announced.

  Fang realised the implications. ‘What about the gold, it must be nearby?’

  ‘The gold is there, protected by my father.’

  ‘Let’s get the entrance clear,’ said Fang urgently.

  48

  Dave, Fang and Ted scrambled down the shaft into the cave. The rancid stench of guano and death permeated the stale air. The lake of evil fluorescing mist lit the interior with a ghostly glow. A quivering blanket of live bats upholstered the ceiling like dark brown baize.

  ‘It’s as black as the inside of a cow in here,’ Fang muttered, then stopped as he saw the pool of glowing mist. ‘Don’t go no further! I can smell rotten eggs.’

  ‘So what?’ said Ted unconcerned.

  ‘A sealed cave with a low depression, bat shit and bacteria from decomposed bodies. Perfect trap for hydrogen sulphide. It’s usually odourless but sometimes it can smell like this. A dangerous brew pal.’

  ‘He’s right, Ted.’ Dave confirmed Fang’s caution. ‘Did you hear about Hospital Hill in Lae? Five historians and explorers entered the old Jap cave sealed up by the Aussies during the war. Two died and another was brain damaged, all from trapped gas.’

  Ted stared at Fang with disbelief. ‘Why don’t the bats die?’

  ‘They’re on the ceilin’, the gas is heavier than air.’ Fang frowned. ‘Somethin’ ain’t right but, it shouldn’t glow like that – supposed to be invisible.

  ‘Turn off your torches.’ Dave ordered. ‘Look, the bat guano on the walls has a faint glow too.’

  ‘So what do you reckon?’ Ted asked.

  Dave paused, deep in thought. ‘Very likely hydrogen sulphide – mixed with guano. Even tephra and airborne silicates from the volcano could be causing the glow.’

  ‘Could be somethin’ to do with the methane or swamp gas too.’ Fang added.

  ‘Either way,’ said Dave, ‘It’s probably a lethal cocktail down there. We’ll have to take precautions.’

  They gazed past the macabre array of corpses at the piled sacks of gold dust. The spilt grains twinkled tantalisingly in the torchlight. Seiji’s father waited eternally, lashed in a sitting position. His skeletal fists still clenched the grips of the machine gun. His glass eye sparkled a taunt from the past as if challenging them to go for the gold and risk death in the lethal gas.

  ‘What d’ya suggest?’ Ted looked for solutions. ‘Can we clear more rubble from the entrance shaft and let it air out.’

  Fang thought the problem over. ‘No way, one breath and it’s death! I could use scuba bottles, but they’re back at camp.’

  ‘Can’t be that bad, Fang!’ Ted scoffed.

  ‘In its concentrated form, one lung-full and death is instantaneous!’ Dave stressed.

  ‘Bullshit!’ Ted jeered.

  Fang’s anger surfaced. ‘That’s coffin cocktail floatin’ ‘round down there smart-arse. Some Yanks were divin’ on a Jap shipwreck at Truk lagoon in Guam. They entered a sealed compartment and removed their scuba gear when they found an airlock. One never returned, the other two were hospitalised for a week. Hydrogen sulphide again.’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ said Ted impatiently.

  ‘We’ll disguise the entrance with branches, then drive back and get the scuba gear.’ Dave was looking for any excuse to check if Jan had returned to Kulili early. ‘I’ll help you lug the bottles up to the cave. After the gold’s safe, I’ll go get the chopper to lift it out.’

  They crawled out and before leaving for Kulili, Dave arranged for Seiji, Ted and Jake to keep watch from the nearby bush.

  By now Seiji felt overcome by emotion and tradition. He constructed a small altar and positioned pen-sized candles around it. Seiji placed breadsticks, flowers and a cup of water from Japan as offerings to his father’s wandering soul. He hammered ritual symbolic stakes into the ground near the cave entrance, then bowed in meditation and silent prayer. Having paid proper respect to his father, he joined Ted and Jake as they waited for Dave and Fang’s return.

  For over an hour they lay concealed and animatedly discussed the contents of the cave. Fortune and father, treasure and tradition consumed them.

  Kless and Harada watched and waited out of sight nearby. Sympathetic villagers had quickly advised them of Stark’s continued activity in the cave region. Kless nodded to the cult chief. The chief looked absolutely fearsome with a blackened face below a mantle of emerald moss. He was decorated with a human finger bone necklet and dogtooth bracelets. His Sangami warriors spread out silently through the undergrowth, surrounding the unsuspecting trio.

  Harada searched in vain for any sign of retrieved gold and also realised their two major adversaries were not to be seen.

  Kless and Harada agreed to waste no further time and again signalled the cult chief. The stealthy Sangami warriors moved as one. They suddenly rushed forward, bows and spears drawn, catching Ted, Seiji and Jake by surprise.

  Jake lunged at the nearest warrior, only to be overpowered and beaten to the ground.

  Harada and Kless stepped confidently into the clearing. Harada looked big and vicious, aiming an Uzi directly at Seiji.

  Kless smiled broadly and waved his pistol at them. Despite his trek through the jungle, he looked debonair in a khaki bush jacket and jeans. ‘Don’t do anything stupid. It might be the last thing you do.’

  The chief followed. His cane waistband carried a human bone dagger, the end knuckle still evident. Split lengthwise diagonally, it exposed the marrow chamber and created a semi-circular shaft tapered to a needlepoint.

  Kless shoved Ted to the ground. ‘Where’s the gold? The locals said your men were excited after searching a cave?’

  Seiji and Harada argued nearby in Japanese, interrupting him. Harada slapped Seiji’s face, then shouted at him, but Seiji’s reflexes took over. He rebounded, then kicked Harada in the stomach and winded him.

  Kless lifted his pistol, but Harada pushed it away. ‘No, I’ll take care of this.’

  Harada edged in on Seiji cautiously, hands waving, eyes fixed. He lashed out with one leg, followed by a swinging arm. Seiji sidestepped the kick and blocked Harada’s thrust but he could not match the heavier built man’s speed and expertise. A rapid vo
lley of punches caught Seiji in the stomach and immobilised him. He fell to the ground gasping for air. Despite the beating by Harada, Seiji remained silent.

  Kless then turned on Jake and repeatedly punched him. As Jake fell to his knees, Kless put the barrel of his gun against Jake’s forehead and turned to Ted. ‘Tell us where the gold is before I do some radical surgery.’

  Jake said nothing. Kless turned his attention to Ted. ‘Believe me, I’ll do it!’

  Ted ignored the threat. Kless began counting slowly. He reached eight and took a new stance, arm outstretched, ready to shoot.

  Ted figured Kless was bluffing and turned away. A shot tore the silence. He turned back frantically and shouted, expecting the worst. Jake trembled; his eyes tightly closed and face singed by muzzle flash. Kless had fired harmlessly past his temple into the ground.

  Harada cursed, impatient at the delay. ‘Last chance! Where is it, or he gets the next one between the eyes!’ An evil smile moved over his face as a new approach occurred to him. He lit a cigarette, waved the match across Ted’s face, making him wince at the hated fire ‘You’re going to tell us which cave. We know it’s in this area. Why resist? If we have to, we’ll drag the guides back here to point it out.’

  Harada grabbed Kless’s small flask, splashed brandy across Ted’s clothes and held the match dangerously close. ‘Clothes first? Then your face and hair.’

  Though terrified of the dancing flame, Ted stood firm. A plan formed in his mind. He deliberately glanced over to where the stuffed branches concealed and tamed the howl of the cave.

  Harada followed his gaze. He recognised the sacred Japanese stakes hammered into the ground near the cliff face and smiled knowingly at Seiji. ‘You’ve found your father? Is the entrance behind the bushes?’

  ‘My father’s last resting place is sacred and must not be disturbed.’

  ‘And the gold, I bet.’ Harada sneered and studied the cliff face. ‘Kless! The entrance is up there, behind the bushes.’ He pointed the Uzi at Ted’s forehead. ‘Is the gold in there?’

  Ted feigned terror and gave in. ‘Take the bloody gold and let us go—it ain’t worth dyin’ for.’

  ‘Watch him, Kless.’ Harada scrambled up the broken rubble then pulled the branches free. The shaft spewed out a cascade of loose leaves and the sinister howl returned. Harada shone his torch down the gloomy shaft and gazed with brief misgivings.

  ‘It is evil and dangerous, a place tambu!’ Jake warned.

  The chief laughed arrogantly. ‘My power is stronger. I will protect you.’ He brandished his brutal Wuvulu battle-axe symbolically. ‘Bring out the gold—we will watch them.’

  Kless followed Harada, urging him on. Secretly his part native heritage felt intimidated by the traditional symbols and gruesome human remains. ‘I’ll wait at the entrance. Tell me what you find when you get in.’

  Harada shuffled his way down the narrow shaft, pushed past the mummified native corpse and dropped into the cavern. It looked an eerie sight. The luminescent mist illuminated ancient corpses. A dark silhouette loomed nearby. He turned on his torch and swore as the beam pierced the evil mist. Seiji’s father and his machine gun menaced him. The glass eye looked alive and stared at him as if challenging him to move closer and be riddled with bullets.

  He moved slowly past, stirring the mist, and shone the torch beyond to the piles of plump canvas bags. One lay split open, its golden contents sparkled provocatively in the brilliant torchlight. Impulsively he yelled in adoration and sank to his knees to caress the cache. Some of the old bags ruptured as he tried to lift them. Harada removed his shirt, selected a bag firm enough to lift and turned for the entrance.

  Kless shouted from outside. ‘What have you found?’

  ‘The gold is here, I’m bringing a bag out,’ Harada called and as he disturbed the foul-smelling mist, it curled up in wafts and luminous swirls.

  Harada wiped unexplained tears from his eyes. His throat dried out and his breathing was laboured as though his tongue had grown. The smell of rotten eggs almost overpowered him. Despite an unusual tremble in his hand, he clutched the bag and crawled back through the entrance shaft. Even with minimal effort he could hear his own heartbeat racing in his ears like pounding surf. Harada took deep breaths without relief. He stopped, breathless, his cheeks twitching and a spasm in his chest. As he struggled out of the shaft he looked around, his eyesight faltered to a blurred two-dimensional image.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Kless shouted, as Harada silently clung to the heavy bag.

  Harada did not answer. His eyes stared wide, bulging like golf balls. His limbs twitched with uncontrollable spasms. He gasped for breath and his swollen tongue protruded from his drooling mouth. Involuntarily, his bladder and bowels vented their contents.

  He dropped to his knees. The sheen of his sweaty, pallid skin turned an ominous blue. His body pumped and writhed, his chest heaved uselessly for relief, grotesque guttural sounds coming from his contorted face.

  While Kless stood stunned, Ted moved in quickly with mock concern. ‘What’s the matter pal, havin’ trouble breathin’?’ He crouched low, pretending to check Harada’s airway. Ted smiled sardonically and whispered. ‘That’s for my son Richard. Take a last look around, arse-hole!’

  Harada tried feebly to reach Ted’s neck with trembling hands. Ted simply moved back out of reach, ensuring he stayed within Harada’s failing sight. He watched intently, savouring the brutal killer’s demise. Suddenly Harada gurgled a last frustrated breath, clenched his teeth in agony and bit off his own tongue. Blood ran down his chest, his whole body locked in a seizure. He toppled forward onto the rubble and his head hit the broken stone with a sickening thud. The fragile bag hit the ground and burst, spraying a golden cascade across the fouled and bloodied ground.

  Kless gasped with shock. ‘What the hell happened to him?’

  They stooped to check Harada’s pulse and found nothing. Clearly, he died before his head hit the rocks.

  The Sangami chief searched for excuses. This was a direct confirmation of spirit powers. ‘He has angered the gods of the mountain.’

  Kless stared briefly at the corpse and tried to drag away the remains of the ruptured bag of gold dust. He turned nervously to Jake and Seiji. ‘Okay you two, tell us what’s goin’ on, or you’re next inside to get the gold out for us.’

  The stubborn silence irritated Kless, he pointed at Jake. ‘You, get in there and start bringing out the gold.’

  At first Jake remained silent. He trembled and shook his head, bathed in sweat. ‘No, it’s too dangerous.’

  Seiji unloaded Jake’s guilt but responded with contempt. ‘There’s poisonous gas in there. We tried to warn you.’

  Kless thought for a moment. ‘When are Stark and the other musclebound moron coming back?’

  ‘As soon as they get scuba gear to enter the cavern,’ Seiji revealed and attempted a bluff. ‘They’ll be armed and have the police with them.’

  Kless recovered and smiled greedily, realising his share of the booty had just doubled. ‘Very clever, but they won’t involve the police now they’ve found the gold. I think we might lay low and let them do all the dangerous work. Scoop up the gold and drag Harada’s body into the bush over there.’

  49

  As he helped Fang lug the scuba bottles up to the cave, Dave was deep in thought. Jan had not arrived at the Kulili camp by the time they left. He planned to drive back to Kaviak hospital as soon as the gold was secure.

  Fang slowed then stopped at the edge of the clearing. ‘Hold it, Dave. There’s no one here!’

  The strange turn of events snapped Dave’s attention away from Jan’s predicament and he checked around. ‘They’ve all gone. We better wait and watch for a while. Something’s fishy here.’

  After checking the cave region, they cautiously entered the clearing. Evidence of frantic activity had been hurriedly disguised. It spoke of a life and death struggle.

  Dave noticed the blood stains on the rubble and the ch
urned up muddy ground. A sprinkling of gold dust twinkled in the fierce sunlight. ‘What the hell happened here? There’s a trail of blood. Looks like a body was dragged away from the cave.’

  Fang stooped and fingered the muddy mix of blood and gold dust with suspicion. ‘Someone’s been at the gold.’ He followed the drag marks for ten metres to a pile of loose shrubbery in the jungle fringe. ‘Shit! Dave! Over here.’

  Carnivorous ants already covered Harada’s battered and contorted body, his eyes hideously wide with terror. Bloodied swollen lips grotesquely exposed gaping teeth; his jaws locked open in the rictus of death.

  ‘Stupid bastard musta tried to get the gold,’ Fang reasoned. ‘One thing’s for sure, most of the gold’s still in the cave.’

  A muted rumbling underfoot added urgency to their situation. The base of the low cloud above the volcano glowed bright red.

  Dave rechecked his priorities. ‘I don’t like this. We gotta find Jake, Ted and Seiji.’

  ‘Shit, Dave! The bloody gold’s just sittin’ in there waitin’ for us! We should get it out and hide it while we still gotta chance!’

  ‘The gold’s safe in that gas. Who the hell’s gonna get it?’

  Fang did not share Dave’s attitude. ‘Hang on, pal. Let’s make a deal. Help me get the gold out an’ bury it. I’ll drop it from there and we can both search for the others. It won’t take long.’

  ‘Okay, it’s a deal,’ Dave agreed. ‘Let’s make it quick.’ He then helped to ventilate the cave by clearing more rubble away from the small entrance.

  Fang took the precaution of donning full scuba gear, then crawled down the eerie entrance shaft. Despite every care lifting the old canvas bags, some of them began to tear and crumble. Fang decided to drag them out using a patrol box. ‘Dave, I’ll pass out the good bags one at a time. Get me a trenching tool to shovel up the spilled gold dust.’

  Dave swore, impatient at the delay. ‘Just make it snappy. Dump them near the entrance and I’ll shuttle them outside to a safer hiding place.’

 

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