The Word of God

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by Christopher Cummings




  The Word of God

  The Army Cadets

  C.R. Cummings

  Also By

  CHRISTOPHER CUMMINGS

  The Boy and the Battleship

  The Green Idol of Kanaka Creek

  Ross River Fever

  Train to Kuranda

  The Mudskipper Cup

  Davey Jones’s Locker

  Below Bartle Frere

  Airship Over Atherton

  Cockatoo

  The Cadet Corporal

  Stannary Hills

  Coasts of Cape York

  Kylie and the Kelly Gang

  Behind Mt. Baldy

  The Cadet Sergeant Major

  Cooktown Christmas

  Secret in the Clouds

  *The Word of God

  The Cadet Under-Officer

  Barbara and the Smiley People

  The Word of God

  The Army Cadets

  C.R. Cummings

  DoctorZed

  Publishing

  www.doctorzed.com

  Copyright © Christopher Cummings

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This 2nd edition published 2015 by DoctorZed Publishing

  DoctorZed Publishing books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

  DoctorZed Publishing

  10 Vista Ave, Skye, South Australia 5072

  www.doctorzed.com

  ISBN: 978-0-9942084-4-6 (sc)

  ISBN: 978-0-9942084-7-7 (e)

  National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry

  Creator: Cummings, C. R., author.

  Title: The word of god : the army cadets/ Christopher Cummings.

  Edition: 2nd edition

  ISBN: 9780994208446 (paperback)

  Series: Cummings, C. R. The Army cadets

  Subjects: Adventure stories, Australian.

  Military cadets—Queensland — Fiction.

  Dewey Number: A823.3

  This is a work of fiction. The places are real but the names, characters, events, and dialogues are creations of the author or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any individuals, alive or dead, is purely coincidental. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

  Cover image © Prometeus | Dreamstime.com - Sharp Sword Photo

  Cover design © Scott Zarcinas

  Printed in Australia

  DoctorZed Publishing rev. date: 11/1/2015

  Dedication

  To the Officers of the Queensland Police Service who courageously protect the people of Queensland and in particular those police who bravely serve in rural and outback stations such as Herberton.

  Contents

  Chapter 1: WALSH PYRAMID

  Chapter 2: UP WALSH PYRAMID

  Chapter 3: ON TOP OF THE PYRAMID

  Chapter 4: SUNSET

  Chapter 5: FEAR AND HOPE

  Chapter 6: GORDONVALE BY NIGHT

  Chapter 7: MULGRAVE RIVER

  Chapter 8: MULGRAVE VALLEY

  Chapter 9: BESIDE THE MULGRAVE

  Chapter 10: ALONG THE TRAMLINE

  Chapter 11: THE RIVER BANK

  Chapter 12: LITTLE MULGRAVE

  Chapter 13: PETER!

  Chapter 14: NIGHT BESIDE THE RIVER

  Chapter 15: PETER’S SUSPICIONS

  Chapter 16: SECRET CODES

  Chapter 17: EVIL UNMASKED

  Chapter 18: THE QUEST

  Chapter 19: SATAN STRIKES

  Chapter 20: HARD DECISIONS

  Chapter 21: IN THE JUNGLE

  Chapter 22: THE LUCK OF THE DEVIL

  Chapter 23: DRIVE FAST!

  Chapter 24: GET IN!

  Chapter 25: HEY!

  Chapter 26: CONFEDERATES!

  Chapter 27: JOY

  Chapter 28: WHAT NEXT?

  Chapter 29: JUNGLE TREK

  Chapter 30: THE DEVIL’S WORK

  Chapter 31: DUSK AT THE DAM

  Chapter 32: MIDNIGHT

  Chapter 33: DON’T MOVE!

  Chapter 34: A CHANCE

  Chapter 35: MOOMIN

  Chapter 36: HERBERTON

  Chapter 37: INSPECTOR GOLDSTEIN

  Map 1: Walsh Pyramid

  Chapter 1

  WALSH PYRAMID

  2 pm Sunday, 22 June

  The eight teenage army cadets trudged along the dirt vehicle track at the base of Walsh Pyramid. On their left was a field of sugar cane, three metres tall and almost ready to harvest. On their right loomed the bush clad slopes of the mountain. All wore army camouflage uniforms and slouch hats. They wore webbing and carried packs and stout wooden staves. Sweat and grime marked their persons and they looked tired.

  Cadet Under-Officer Peter Bronsky, 17 years old, brown eyed and brown haired, wiped sweat from his face and looked up the steep slopes at the distant peak.

  “How high is this thing?”

  The fair haired youth beside him, CUO Graham Kirk, studied the map in his hand before replying. “Says nine hundred and twenty two metres here.”

  Peter made a face. “Nearly a thousand. Sounds a lot. Do we really need to climb it? I’ve been up the blasted thing half a dozen times already,” he grumbled.

  Graham chuckled. “Haven’t we all!” he replied. Both had climbed the mountain with the Cubs and later with the Scouts, and even with school groups. The Pyramid was one of those places most of the local kids climbed at some stage in their lives.

  The group arrived at a point where a weathered wooden sign noted the fact that the barely distinguishable trail in the long grass was the WALSH PYRAMID WALKING TRACK. Nearby in a grassy clearing beside the field of sugar cane two black four-wheel drive vehicles and two cars were parked.

  With a grunt of relief Peter swung off his pack and looked around. He pointed to the cars. “Must be a few bushwalkers up the mountain.”

  Graham looked and nodded. “Yes,” he agreed. “Neither of those are the OC’s car.”

  An attractive blonde girl who also wore CUO’s rank slides on her camouflage uniform frowned. “He did say he would meet us here didn’t he?” she asked.

  “Yes Gwen, he did,” Graham replied. “We are early. He said three o’clock.”

  Peter smiled. “That’s good,” he said. “That means we won’t be climbing the Pyramid today.”

  “Why not?” Gwen asked as she dumped her pack with a thud in the shade of a tree.

  Peter gestured upwards. “Because it takes about three or four hours, depending on how fit you are,” he replied.

  At that Graham snorted. “Oh come on Pete! Don’t be a sook! We’ve still got time,” he said. “Three hours up and one back down. We could do it.”

  Peter chuckled. “Off you go. We’ll see you in four hours.”

  “Weakies!” Graham jibed. “Where’s your spirit?”

  Gwen Copeland made a face. “I’ve temporarily worn mine out.”

  The last five cadets; three girls and two boys, joined them. One of the boys, a solid, slightly chubby CUO with pale, freckled skin, wiped perspiration from his face and grumbled: “Strewth it is hot! This is supposed to be winter and it’s as hot as a summer day.”

  “Yes Dean, it is a bit warm,” Peter agreed.

  An overweight, red-faced girl dumped her pack and slumped onto it. “Do you really think we will have to climb this thing?”

  Graham nodded. “Yes Charmaine. I reck
on it’s a cert,” he replied. “Captain Conkey did promise a hike with some challenges in it.”

  A look of dismay crossed Charmaine’s face. “Oh I hope not,” she replied while fanning herself with her hat.

  CUO Stephen Bell, dark-haired, freckle-faced and with glasses placed his pack beside the others and looked up at the mountain. “I agree with Graham. Ever since we re-crossed the Mulgrave at the bottom of Bell Peak we have been heading for the Pyramid. I think… hello, who’s this?”

  They all turned to look as a man dressed in black came hurrying down the rough path. The man was obviously in haste as he slipped several times and was panting as though he had run a race. As the man reached the bottom of the track Peter felt a tightness grip his insides.

  I don’t like the way this bloke is hurrying. I wonder if there has been an accident up on the mountain? he wondered.

  The man scrambled down over the last few rocky patches and stumbled out onto the open ground. By then it was plain that he was very agitated, and that he was heading for them. As the man ran over to them Peter noted that he was about thirty, with a reddish complexion and black eyes. In his hand the man carried a small radio.

  As he reached them the man cried out: “Army! Thank God! Oh quick! You must stop them. If you don’t they will kill the prisoners! Quick!”

  Peter felt his heart quicken as a spasm of alarm gripped him. Prisoners? Kill them? He stepped forward as the man began to gabble excitedly at them. Without thinking he placed his hand on the man’s sleeve. “Calm down! Who will kill who and why?”

  The man stood for a moment, gasping for breath, his eyes wild and staring. Peter noted this with rising anxiety.

  This guy is in a real state. I hope he isn’t dangerous, he thought.

  The man shuddered, closed his eyes, gulped air as though he was drowning, then pointed up the Pyramid. “Devil Worshippers. They have three prisoners and are going to kill them at sunset. They make human sacrifices to Satan as the sun goes down.”

  Peter felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he shivered involuntarily. Devil Worshippers!

  Before he could speak Graham cut in: “Devil Worshippers! Here? In North Queensland!”

  The man swallowed and nodded. “You must believe me. Yes, Devil Worshippers; Sons of Satan. They are evil. You must hurry. Oh please hurry. I don’t want to be responsible for any more killings.”

  Any more! Peter’s mind raced, attempting to sort out what was going on. The thought that the man might be mentally unbalanced flitted across his mind and Peter glanced at him to check if he had any weapons. None was visible. “So how do you know this? Who are you?” he asked.

  “My name is Michael Skarzcy and I am one of them,” the man wailed. “Oh please hurry. They aren’t far ahead of you. If you move quickly you will catch them up and be in time.”

  Gwen curled her lip in disbelief. “How do we know this isn’t just some sort of a wind-up; to send us up the mountain as a sick joke?”

  “It’s no joke!” the man cried, his anguish sounding genuine to Peter.

  Gwen persisted: “So why are you telling us? How do you fit into this? What’s the story?”

  “I told you. I am a Devil Worshipper too,” the man replied, his agitation at not being instantly believed growing by the second. He hopped from foot to foot and his eyes flicked from one to the other rapidly. Peter nerved himself to be ready to physically grapple with the man if he became violent.

  Gwen scoffed: “Devil Worshippers! Here in North Queensland? Get real!”

  “It’s true!” the man shrieked. “You must believe me. Oh please hurry!”

  “Prove it,” Gwen challenged.

  “I can’t,” the man replied in a mixture of anger and exasperation. That he was deeply distressed was very apparent.

  Stephen Bell, who up till this time had stood back, now stepped forward and pushed his glasses up his freckled nose. “There are Devil Worshippers in Cairns, I can vouch for that,” he said quietly.

  Gwen gave him a shocked look and CUO Joy Randall, a short, solid girl from Townsville, let out an audible gasp.

  “How do you know that?” Gwen demanded of Stephen.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Stephen replied calmly. “But believe me they exist; and they are very dangerous people. If this guy says that they are going to make human sacrifices then I believe him.”

  Stephen’s word was good enough for Peter. He had known Stephen for years and they had been through some hair-raising adventures together in the past. Peter turned to the man: “OK, give us the facts, and quickly.”

  The man nodded, licked his lips and spat out his tale in jerky sentences. He had been persuaded to become a Devil Worshipper a few years earlier by a friend. At first he had thought it all a bit of a joke and mostly good fun, with lots of sex and good thrills. Bit by bit he had been initiated into a secret group. By the time he realized the Devil Worshippers were deadly serious he had been too deeply involved to pull out.

  “So why come to us?” Peter asked.

  “Because I’ve had enough. I can’t stand it any more. I don’t want the deaths of anyone else on my conscience,” the man replied.

  “How many Devil Worshippers are there?” Peter asked. “Five, and three prisoners,” the man replied. “Are they armed?” Graham asked.

  The man nodded. “They will all have knives. That is how they make the sacrifices. They pray and get all worked up, then at either sunset, or midnight, whichever the omens indicate, they mutilate and torture their captives, then slit their throats and drink their blood.”

  Peter shivered with revulsion and horror. Several of the others gave audible gasps. “Who are these people?”

  The man shook his head: “I daren’t tell you. I’ve said too much already. If they find out I told you they will kill me.”

  The man’s fear was so genuine that Peter could only nod. He asked: “Who are the prisoners? Why are they killing them?”

  Again the man shook his head: “Three men. I don’t know their names. One is a local bloke but I have never seen the other two. The boss didn’t explain why they had to die except to indicate they were very dangerous to us in some way.”

  “Why are you here? Why didn’t you go up the mountain with the others?” Peter asked.

  The man waved the hand radio. “I am the sentry. I am to warn them if anyone follows them up the mountain. They like to worship in secret.”

  Peter put his hand out: “Give me the radio. What is your call sign?”

  The man handed the radio over as though it was hot. “Michael,” he replied.

  “And your boss, what is his call sign?”

  “He is six six,” Michael replied. “He is one of Lucifer’s Lieutenants.”

  “How will we know these people? How will they be dressed?” Peter asked.

  “In ordinary clothes until they begin their ceremonies,” the man replied. “Then they change into black costumes. You will know them when you see them. Oh hurry!”

  “Just a minute. We need to plan this,” Peter replied. “Will you show us the way?”

  The man shook his head, fear evident on his face. “No! No! No I won’t. I’m getting out of here.”

  With that the man turned and began to run along the vehicle track towards Gordonvale.

  Graham moved to grab him. “Hey! Come back here!” he cried. But the man ignored him and ran on. Graham went to chase but then stopped to watch. As the man vanished out of sight around the bend in the track the cadets looked at each other.

  Joy licked her lips and looked sacred. “Well! What do we do now?” she asked anxiously.

  “Pretty obvious,” Peter replied. “We phone the police. Get out that mobile phone Charmaine.”

  Charmaine, the red faced chubby girl, nodded and bent to dig in her pack. Army policy was that cadets were not allowed to have mobile devices during cadet activities and while they all owned one Capt Conkey had only allowed them to keep one in case of emergencies.

  Whi
le Charmaine rummaged in her pack Joy bit her lip and frowned. “What if.. what if this is just part of the exercise?” she asked.

  Peter looked at her, thinking she was very pretty. “You mean like the people who act various roles in the Senior Field Exercises your OC organizes?” he queried. Joy’s unit, 130ACU, was famous through the North Queensland cadets for the week long ‘Senior Exercises’ that were always a challenging adventure and always involved a story with a lot of costumes and play acting. One had not been organized for these holidays which was why the friends had arranged their own activity.

  Joy nodded. “Yes,” she agreed.

  Peter did not think so but before he could speak Stephen answered her. “No way. That bloke wasn’t acting. He was genuinely terrified. I think we should call the police.”

  Graham looked doubtful. “What if it is though? Shouldn’t we check with Capt Conkey first? We will look like real noddies if we spark a major police drama and it all turns out to be just part of the exercise.”

  Peter nodded. “Good idea. OK Charmaine, give Capt Conkey a call and I will ask him,” he said.

  Charmaine now had her mobile phone in her hand after extracting it from a plastic bag. She tried to turn it on and then frowned and tried again. A little stab of anxiety went through Peter. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  “It won’t seem to turn on,” Charmaine replied, pushing again at the button. She blushed and looked flustered.

  Stephen looked at her. “Is the battery flat?” he asked.

  Charmaine nodded and muttered, “Yes, it looks like it.”

  “But you charged it fully and then turned it off and packed it away,” Joy commented. “I watched you do that.”

  Charmaine nodded again and then coloured with embarrassment. Joy held out her hand. “Give me a go,” she instructed.

  Reluctantly Charmaine handed Joy the phone. Joy also tried and also had no luck. “Dead flat,” she said. She handed the phone back and then looked accusingly at Charmaine. “Did you take it out and turn it on?”

  Charmaine blushed even more and then nodded. “Yes, but only to check my emails and facebook,” she muttered.

  Peter wasn’t impressed. They had promised Capt Conkey they would not use the phone for personal reasons and his opinion of Charmaine, never high, now slid even lower. “You must have left it turned on,” he said.

 

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