The Word of God

by Christopher Cummings

  Peter had forgotten the other Devil Worshippers. Now the terrible threat by their leader came back to him: ‘You have interrupted a sacrifice to Satan. You must pay for that. You will now die horribly.’

  Peter had no doubt that the man had meant what he said. The bones below the rock were testimony to that! He said: “Graham is right. We are going to move. I will carry this bloke piggy back. Joy, collect those bags. You others help these people to their feet.”

  Once again Graham objected. “I am strongest. I will carry him. You take out that pistol Pete and go scout, just in case our spooky mates are lurking along the track.”

  Gwen objected: “Wait! We must splint that broken leg first.”

  Graham muttered but Gwen set to work, helped by Stephen, to tie the injured Devil Worshipper’s broken leg to his good one, with a stick added for good measure.

  While they did that Peter checked that the three former prisoners were dressed and ready to go. The two knights had dressed in their own clothes-torn and soiled business suits and leather shoes.

  Sir Miles assured him they were able to make the distance. “We will also help carry that man,” he added.

  “Thanks. Now, Joy, did you find any food or water?”

  “Both,” Joy replied. She held out two water bottles and a packet of sandwiches. Peter passed the water bottles to the rescued prisoners. Sir Miles controlled their drinking, then returned the water bottles to Peter for the cadets to share. They got a good mouthful each. It tasted very good, but Peter knew it was not enough, that they would probably be in trouble from dehydration soon.

  “Anything else in those bags Joy?” he asked, as Gwen finished her bandaging.

  “Only these papers. They appear to be some sort of messages. They look like decoded secret signals to me.”

  Peter’s curiosity was aroused and he took the notebook from her and scanned it. Joy was right. It was a decoded message. The original had been in some sort of Trigram code, where three letters meant a letter, number or word. He was familiar with the idea from the Command Post exercises they did every year at cadets.

  “You are right. Coded messages. These ones have been decoded,” he commented.

  “What do they say?” Graham asked.

  Peter studied the handwritten messages for a moment, troubled more by the author’s poor handwriting than by the cyphering. He read: “The first one says: From Six Five to Six Six; Have captured two Knights of the Holy Grail. Sir Richard De Burg and Sir Miles Falworth and agent Adrian Jones. Now at RV TANGENT with group. Request orders.”

  He turned the page of the notebook. “The second one is a reply, from Six Six to Six Five. It reads: Take prisoners to the top of Walshs Pyramid. Question and torture them then execute according to our rites. Six Five Three to kill.”

  It was obvious that the others were aghast at the cold-blooded implications of the message. Peter shook his head in appalled disbelief and turned the page.

  “This one hasn’t been completely decoded,” he observed.

  “That was probably what he was doing when we were sprung,” Stephen offered. “I saw one of them drop the notebook as they ran for it.”

  Peter nodded and read: “This is from Six Six and is a ‘Flash’ message. It starts: Delay executions. Do not kill prisoners. Special Agent; then it is unfinished. The rest is just trigrams.”

  “Six Six must be their boss,” Joy suggested.

  Peter again nodded. “Did you find a codebook among their gear? I’d like to finish decoding this.”

  Joy shook her head. “No we didn’t,” she replied.

  Gwen finished her first aid and stood up. “OK, that’s as good as I can manage.”

  Graham stepped forward. “Good, now help lift him onto my back,” he ordered. Without waiting to see if he was obeyed he crouched and hauled the unconscious man upright. Stephen helped lift him onto Graham’s back and passed him his staff. Graham stood up with a grunt, adjusted his balance, the man sitting awkwardly astride his basic webbing. As soon as he had him gripped firmly Graham started walking.

  Joy moved back to where she had placed the packs in a row. “What will we do with these?” she called.

  “Leave the packs and clothes. Just bring the papers,” Peter instructed. He tucked the notebook into his pocket and had a final look around. Satisfied that the others were moving he picked up his own staff, took out the pistol and followed Graham.

  Having the loaded gun in his hand made Peter feel very apprehensive. The weapon was so real and so potentially deadly that he was reluctant to even think about using it. Fear helped. The skeletons behind and the thought of Devil Worshippers lurking ahead concentrated his emotions powerfully.

  By moving fast Peter caught up with Graham within two minutes. By then Graham was trying to climb down the first steep pinch without losing his balance. It was so steep and the injured man so heavy and unbalanced that he soon slipped and fell. He swore and struggled to his feet. The injured Devil Worshipper let out a loud groan and shuddered.

  Peter bit his lip. “Be careful Graham. We don’t want to hurt him any more,” he said.

  Graham slithered down a few paces, then stumbled again. He swore and lowered the man onto the bushes beside the track. “This is hopeless Pete. I’m the strongest of us and I’m buggered already. We will never make it down the mountain with this bloke. We will have to leave him here.”

  Peter shook his head. “I will try for a while. Here, you take this gun. It’s loaded and cocked- at ‘Action’. Safety is on.”

  Butt first he passed the pistol to Graham. The others had caught them up by this and Stephen helped lift the man onto Peter’s back. Within seconds he knew that Graham was right. The man was very heavy and his weight immediately dragged down on his shoulder muscles. Within ten paces he was sweating and puffing from the effort. Worse the broken leg stuck out and kept snagging in the trees and bushes beside the narrow track.

  It took five minutes to go down fifty metres. By then the sun was gone completely and they were walking in twilight. Their direction of movement was north so the red glow of the sunset showed the mountains out to their left very clearly. Far below tiny lights began to twinkle at farms in the Mulgrave valley.

  A tree root tripped Peter at the top of the next steep section. He went sprawling, the bushes scratching his face and hands. The injured Devil Worshipper fell heavily onto some rocks and let out a cry of pain.

  Trembling from the effort Peter stood up, his chest heaving. Reluctantly he faced Graham. “You are right mate. We will never carry him down. We must leave him and go for help.”

  Gwen heard this and shook her head. “Oh we can’t!” she cried.

  Peter pressed his lips into a thin line then said: “Sorry. We must. And noone is staying here. A helicopter is the safe way to move him.”

  There were a few minutes of tense disagreement before Gwen and Megan accepted the inevitable. Peter and Graham made the injured man as comfortable as they could, lying him right in the track where he could easily be found.

  Feeling sick at heart Peter motioned Graham to lead on. Graham turned and headed down the mountain.

  That part of the track was so steep they had to proceed using hands as well as feet. Peter was relieved that they were moving faster but felt sick at heart over leaving the injured man.

  If the broken bone has cut a blood vessel he could be bleeding to death internally; and if it gets cold during the night he could die, he thought.

  At that moment the radio Stephen was carrying crackled to life. The sound was so unexpected that Peter jumped with fright.

  Stephen hastily fished the radio out. “The radio! What will I do?” he asked.

  “Who is it? Are they calling us?” Peter asked.

  Stephen shook his head. “No. Not our call sign. It is Six Five calling Six Six,” he replied.

  An idea flitted through Peter’s mind and he acted on it at once. “Call it out so I can write it down,” he instructed.

  As quickly as
he could he pulled out his own notebook, and, despite objections from Megan that they should keep moving, he sat and waited, pencil in hand.

  Stephen listened, then began to speak: “Six Five to Six Six. Delta Zulu Charlie, Delta Romeo Delta, Delta Zulu Echo, Delta Yankee Kilo, Delta X-ray November, Delta Whisky Delta, Delta Whisky Alpha, Delta Zulu Alpha, Delta Zulu Hotel, Delta Zulu Charlie, Delta Zulu India, Delta X-ray X-ray, Delta Yankee Golf, Delta X-ray Quebec, Delta Yankee X-ray, Delta X-ray Hotel, Delta Alpha Yankee, Delta X-ray Lima, Delta Whisky Delta, Delta Whisky Alpha, Delta Zulu Foxtrot, Delta Charlie Foxtrot, message ends.”

  Joy frowned. “What does it mean?” she asked.

  Peter shrugged. “Can’t tell until I see the other parts of the code.”

  “Lots of Delta Zulus,” Graham observed.

  Peter opened the captured notebook and glanced at the decoded messages, his eyes searching for any trigrams that were the same. He had been hoping to find the ‘decode’ key but there was none. So he studied the messages for similarities. Then he replied: “This is obviously a simple code they have made up themselves. Ah, here is one. Delta X-ray X-ray. It is the letter ‘K’.”

  Megan looked distressed and shook her head. “Oh let’s keep moving!” she cried. “We don’t have time to do that.”

  Peter looked at her. “It might be very useful to know the enemy’s plans. It might save us from walking into an ambush,” he replied, but he stood up and motioned Graham to continue.

  The track wound on down the ridge. After ten minutes they were all perspiring and panting. Graham kept up a steady pace, glancing back repeatedly to ensure the others were keeping pace. The three rescued prisoners were the slowest. Megan also slowed them down as she lacked confidence and her balance was poor. More than once she slid down a steep part on her backside.

  As they walked Peter kept glancing at the coded message and noted more letters and words he could decode from the captured messages. Several times he stumbled but he persisted, feeling sure it would help to know what the Devil Worshippers were up to.

  It was hard going down the mountain. Leg muscles and knees began to complain at the effort. Of equal concern was the rapidly fading light. The track was just bare rock, earth and tree roots and many of the steps were large enough to be awkward and a real test of leg muscles.

  By the time they came to the steepest section, where the track went down among large boulders and they had to clamber down slowly using their hands it was almost completely dark. This slowed them down and made Peter even more anxious.

  What has happened to the police? he wondered. Why haven’t they arrived?

  He began to imagine all the horrible things which might have happened to Charmaine and Dean.

  Thankfully they descended to an easier stretch, passing the place where they had seen the Death Adder. As they did Peter shuddered and once again felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. This was so unusual for him that he looked anxiously around, eyes straining to see into the shadows. It wasn’t really snakes he was worried about; it was the other Devil Worshippers. There were several places which were perfect for ambushes.

  With a shrug he realized that it would be most unlikely he would see any trouble before it struck so he resolutely kept on going, glad that Graham was leading.

  The track came out onto the really steep area of bare rock and grass at the half way point. By then night had set in fully. The whole coastal corridor appeared to be ablaze with lights. Cairns and its sprawling suburbs were plain to see as was Gordonvale. The sugar mill stood out even more clearly than by day because of the bright lights and white steam.

  Graham stopped at the half way marker. “Time for a break. I’m puffed,” he said.

  Peter nodded agreement. He took out his pocket torch and checked it, then turned it on and resumed decoding the message. The others came down the track one at a time to join them.

  Joy flopped down beside Peter. “The others are falling behind. We will have to slow down.”

  “We will. We will have to use torches from here on anyway,” Peter replied. The idea did not appeal because it limited their vision even more and made them blinder to anyone lurking beside the track. He found he could not shake the idea that the Devil Worshippers were waiting in ambush but was careful not to mention it lest he frighten the others.

  Holding up the notebook he said: “I’ve decoded most of this. It says: Have, then a trigram I can’t decode, another trigram by Six Five One, that is in numerals, Trigram have trigram Knights. Six Five Two captured.”

  Graham leaned across to look. “Someone has rescued the Knights?” he suggested.

  Peter nodded. “Could be.”

  “They must all have a number,” Joy suggested.

  At that moment Stephen arrived. “You are right. Rudd is Six Five Two,” he said as he slumped down.

  Joy looked frightened. “Does that mean there are six hundred and fifty two of these people?” she asked, anxiety clear in her voice.

  Peter shook his head: “I doubt it. I think they are in groups. This group is Group Six Five and the other group is Six Six.”

  “That makes sense,” Graham agreed. “Six Six would be the HQ.”

  “But how many in each group?” Joy asked.

  “Six?” Stephen suggested.

  “Why six?” Joy asked.

  Stephen shrugged. “Because six the Devil’s number isn’t it?” he replied.

  Joy thought for a moment. “So Six Six Six would be the big boss?” she said.

  Graham grunted and then chuckled. “Or the bloody Devil himself!” he said.

  “Don’t joke Graham! This is serious,” Joy replied.

  “Sorry,” Graham replied, but he didn’t sound it He heaved himself to his feet. “Come on. Time we…”

  As he said this Stephen’s radio again crackled.

  Peter switched on his torch. “Quick! Write down what they say,” he ordered.

  Stephen did as he was told. Joy helped by holding her torch to light up his notebook.

  When Stephen had printed the message he tore the page from his notebook and passed it to Peter. Peter held his torch in his mouth and set to work. It read:

  From 66 to 65

  DAW DXJ DZA DWG DXA DWA DZC DYJ DWF DZR DYK DXP DXN DYB DAY

  Almost at once his eyes found trigrams that matched. That gave his spirits a real boost and he redoubled his efforts, making a quick list of trigrams and the word or number they represented as he did.

  Megan, Adrian Jones and the two knights caught up and sat down, followed by Gwen, who was last.

  “Much further to go?” Gwen asked.

  “We are half way,” Peter replied.

  “Is that all! What time is it?”

  Peter looked at his watch, which had a small light in it. “Only half past seven. That took us about forty minutes. The second half will take longer.”

  “How long do you think?” Joy asked.

  “Probably an hour or more,” Peter replied.

  “Do you think those Devil Worshippers might be somewhere down the track ahead of us?” Stephen asked.

  Peter swore under his breath as he heard Joy suck her breath in quickly. “Could be. Nothing we can do about it.”

  Graham gestured into the dark bush. “We could always leave the track and just head down the mountain,” he suggested.

  “You and I could,” Peter replied. “I doubt if the others could. It is very steep and dangerous in places.”

  “Why don’t we keep moving?” Megan asked.

  “Because you need a rest and I am decoding this message.”

  “Can’t it wait?” Megan grumbled.

  “Possibly. But I think it would be very useful to know what the enemy are up to. Then we might be able to avoid them,” Peter replied. He bent back to his notebook. The others sat or lay in the darkness. Minutes ticked by and Peter began to feel pressure to keep moving. However he persisted for another couple of minutes then said: “I’ve decoded all I can. It reads
: From Six Six to Six Five: Trigram, Trigram, Numeral One, Trigram, Trigram, Numeral Five, Have trigram RV, that is ‘Rendezvous’, with Bravo Mike yet?”

  “Maybe a number to begin with?” Graham suggested.

  “Might be, or a time,” Peter replied.

  Suddenly the radio began to talk again. Six Five calling Six Six. Stephen and Peter both copied the message which was very short, one trigram:- DYR

  Peter glanced at his notes. “That means ‘No’, or ‘not’,” he said.

  Gwen frowned. “So they haven’t RV’d with Bravo Mike yet,” she suggested.

  Peter stood up, aware that he felt dizzy and that his muscles had stiffened up. “Maybe no. Now let’s move.”

  They started to creep down the steep, rocky slope. After only fifty paces the radio went again. Peter stopped and told Stephen to take the message

  Megan snapped angrily: “This is silly! If we stop every time that thing talks we will be up here all night!”

  Peter ignored her. He had a feeling that it might be better to spend the night on the mountain than risk eternity in a grave- or mouldering on a scrubby mountainside.

  This message was from 66 to 65. Peter was able to decode it much faster as he became familiar with the code. There were only three trigrams he could not work out. “It reads Trigram, which I think means ‘move’ to RV TRIDENT, which must be a nickname, then two trigrams I can’t get.”

  They resumed their slow progress down the steep slope. The whole thing began to take on the qualities of a nightmare, made all the more unbelievable by the sight of familiar places in the distance.

  Megan called from behind him. “What are those lights I can see?”

  Peter looked up. “That is Cairns in the distance.”

  “Yes I know that,” Megan replied. “I meant those lights further down the mountain.”

  She was right. With a surge of relief Peter saw the flicker of torches through the trees.

  Gwen gasped with relief. “The police! At last!” she cried.

  “Or the Devil Worshippers coming back with reinforcements,” Stephen suggested gloomily.