“Pity about Charmaine,” Joy said.
Stephen snorted. “Pity what? That she is so fat?” he said.
“Steve! Don’t be awful all the time,” Joy replied.
Peter stood up. “I’ll just go to the dunny.”
“Go a fair way then, and downwind,” Stephen suggested.
“Bite your bum!” Peter replied with a laugh. He extracted toilet paper from his webbing and walked through the trees to the tramline. He turned left and began walking along it.
He had not gone ten paces when he glanced along the track- and stopped dead. At that point the line curved gently to the right. A hundred paces away, just visible through the trees on the corner, there was movement: two people in black; and this time not just anyone. As his eyes registered the approaching figures Peter’s blood chilled.
Devil Worshippers—and the leading one was the Black Monk!
Chapter 9
BESIDE THE MULGRAVE
Peter gaped with surprise, then reacted. About a hundred paces away, heading towards him along the tramline and just passing through a band of sunlight, were the Black Monk and another Devil Worshipper. That it was the Black Monk Peter had not the slightest doubt as the leading figure wore a black cassock and cowl which quite hid his face. The man behind him was completely dressed in black and carried a rifle.
I must warn the others! Peter thought.
He instantly turned and raced back along the tramline, hoping that the few trees on the bend would hide him. As he ran he felt mounting dread and the grip of a fear such as he had rarely experienced. Fuelling his concerns was the thought that somehow or other the Devil Worshippers had been watching the cadets as they hiked along and that now they were moving to exact their revenge.
In twenty more paces Peter dashed down onto the river bank, his racing footsteps alerting Graham, who sat up and looked quizzically at him.
“What is it?”
“Devil Worshippers! The Black Monk. Quick, hide!” Peter gasped. Without waiting to see if he was obeyed he grabbed his own pack and dragged it behind a bush, then turned to shake Stephen, who lay dozing on the sand.
“Quick! Quick, hide!” Peter hissed. He grabbed Stephen and hauled him behind a log. Joy and Megan sat up from where they were paddling their feet in the water and gaped in astonishment. Gwen instantly grasped what was needed and started tossing their gear out of sight, aided by Graham.
Through the trees Peter glimpsed movement. Too late! he realized.
“Down, don’t move!” he hissed, pushing Joy behind a tree. Megan went to cry out but he shook his head vigorously and managed to silence her. All they could do then was crouch or lie behind trees and logs or amongst the bushes and reeds.
Peter lay flat on the sand, knowing that his boots were protruding from behind the bush he was trying to hide behind. He gripped Joy strongly and pressed her down without realizing he was doing it. All the while his eyes searched through the trees.
And there, not ten metres away, was the Black Monk! Peter saw the man walk across the gap between two trees, a sort of evil black flicker. Then he was clearly visible, striding along the tramline. To Peter’s enormous relief the Black Monk appeared to glance neither left nor right as he walked past. The sight of the black robed figure sent a chill of fear coursing through him.
What will we do if he sees us? he wondered, his mind racing to come up with a practical plan. Ideas of running, or of grappling with him both chased each other through his mind, complicated by concerns over Joy and the other girls.
When the Black Monk was level with them the second Devil Worshipper came into sight. He was striding along five paces behind the monk and was looking around in every direction as he did. The man wore a black balaclava but this was rolled up to expose his face. This was a ruddy and cheerful one which made him appear even more sinister to Peter’s eyes. The man carried a high-powered bolt action rifle with a telescopic sight.
For an instant Peter thought the man had seen them, but he walked on along the tramline. Peter met Graham’s eye briefly and returned a nod of understanding. Graham was tensed ready to act.
The two Devil Worshippers vanished from sight towards the bridge over the backwater. As soon as he was sure they could no longer see them Peter sprang up.
“Quick, grab your gear. We must get away from here in case they come back,” he said, keeping his voice low. With his left hand he hauled Joy to her feet. Only then did he realize he had been roughly treating her. She made no objection but immediately bent to gather her cooking gear and empty tins.
Gwen glanced anxiously towards where the two men had vanished. “Do you think they are hunting us?” she asked as she shoved her mess tins into her pack.
“Must be. What else would they be doing?” Peter answered. He felt sick with dread. If the Devil Worshippers were trailing them then they were in the most deadly peril.
Stephen swallowed. “We must get the police as quickly as we can,” he suggested. “I’ll phone them.” He looked very pale. With urgent move she began digging in his webbing.
Peter stopped him. “Not now. There isn’t time! Get moving first, then call.”
Stephen nodded and after casting an anxious glance in the direction the Devil Worshippers had gone began hauling on his webbing. The girls began hauling on their socks and boots. Peter was even tempted to tell everyone to just leave their gear so that they could make greater speed. He suggested this to Graham who shook his head.
“If we leave it and they come searching and find it they will know for certain we have been here,” he said.
That made sense. Peter nodded, pulled on his webbing and swung on his pack, then stood to look around to check they had not left anything which could identify them. As soon as the girls had their boots on Graham pushed his way out to the edge of the clearing and peered cautiously along the tramline.
“Can’t see them. They have gone around the bend. Come on, let’s get moving,” Graham ordered.
Peter did not argue. He accepted Graham’s leadership in moments of crisis. Without realizing he was doing it he grabbed Joy’s pack and helped her to pull it on, then followed her as she pushed through the reeds and bushes. Graham led them left along through the trees beside the tramline, rather than just walking out onto it.
After fifty paces, as they rounded the next curve in the tramline, Graham again checked behind, then waved them to follow and walked out onto the tramline. “It will be quicker,” he explained, in answer to Peter’s unspoken question as to whether they should remain in the cover of the forest.
The cadets filed out onto the tramline, with anxious glances over their shoulders, and began to hurry along.
Almost at once Graham held up his hand and signalled them to stop and to take cover. His pointing finger indicated movement through the trees on their right. Peter saw there was a walking track which led down to the river from the highway. Three people were walking along it towards them.
“Not Devil Worshippers,” he observed, seeing white shirts and grey clothes. The cadets straightened up to resume their flight. Once again Graham signalled halt. Peter stared at the approaching people and received another shock.
It was the two Knights of the Holy Grail: Sir Miles and Sir Richard and the man from Gordonvale, Adrian Jones!
At the same moment the knights saw them. They stopped in surprise. Graham reacted first. He pointed along the tramline behind them. “Sir Miles, Sir Richard! Don’t come down here. There are two Devil Worshippers just along there and one of them has a gun.”
Both knights wore grey business suits which looked very out of place in the forest. Mr Jones wore blue jeans and a cheque shirt. Before any of the cadets had time to react Sir Richard reached under his coat and whipped out a snub-nosed automatic pistol. The appearance of the weapon both reassured and alarmed Peter.
“How far away?” Sir Richard asked, cocking the pistol.
Sir Miles glanced down at it in surprise. “Careful Sir Richard.”
&n
bsp; Sir Richard ignored him and pushed past the cadets to stare along the tramline. He looked very agitated and chewed at his bottom lip. By then Sir Miles had also produced a pistol and checked it was ready for use.
“What did you see?” Sir Richard asked.
Peter quickly described the two Devil Worshippers.
Sir Miles looked anxious. He asked: “Did you see a middle-aged man with a beard?”
“No, only those two, and the couple with children back at the bridge,” Peter replied. He now had grave suspicions about the two ‘lovers’.
“Quickly!” Gwen cried. “We must get away from here and contact the police before someone gets hurt.”
Graham nodded. “Yes, back to the road. Do you have a car?” he asked Sir Miles.
“Yes, Mr Jones’s,” Sir Miles replied. He hesitated. “But we are supposed to meet someone here. They may be in danger.”
“It might be a trap,” Peter suggested.
“Might be,” Sir Miles agreed. He turned to Mr Jones. “Are you sure this is the right place?”
Jones nodded. “Yes. It was the first location I was given,” he replied.
“Come on!” Graham urged. He set off along the walking track.
At that moment there was the sound of a car stopping. Peter glimpsed a dark coloured vehicle pull up beside the highway. “Someone has just stopped,” he said, pointing.
Graham looked and then gasped. “Devil Worshippers!” he cried.
Peter glimpsed two men dressed in black get out of the vehicle. Graham did not wait. He clutched at Sir Miles’s sleeve. “This way, quick! Along the tramline.”
For a moment Peter thought Sir Richard was not going to come with them. He looked even more agitated and muttered under his breath, then reluctantly turned and started walking with them.
“Quick! Hide!” Graham ordered. He indicated a patch of weeds and bushes beside the tramline and pushed at Megan to urge her under cover. The cadets moved quickly, Stephen scurrying to cover. Peter moved quickly in behind a large tree with buttress roots and crouched down. Joy pressed herself in beside him. He gave her a reassuring smile but knew it was forced. His face felt as though it was frozen. Sir Richard and Sir Miles both crouched behind trees as well.
The sound of muttered voices carried to Peter’s ears above the beating of his own heart and the gurgle of the river. Anxiously he peered through the forest. Without realizing it he put his arm around Joy’s shoulders and drew her closer behind the tree.
Two men came into view. Both wore black clothes and Peter had no doubt they were Devil Worshippers. As the two men reached the tramline this was confirmed. Both carried pistols and had balaclavas rolled up on their heads. They paused for a moment and looked right along the line, then turned and walked left in the same direction that the Black Monk and the other Devil Worshipper had gone. As they did they rolled their balaclavas down over their faces.
Those men knew which way to go, Peter thought. He watched them as they walked around the curve and out of sight, his heart hammering rapidly and his mouth dry with fear. As soon as they were out of sight he stood up and waved to Graham and Sir Miles.
“Now is our chance. Up to your car and we can get out of here,” he said.
Sir Miles nodded. He quietly spoke to Sir Richard, who emerged from the bushes looking very angry. The other cadets also stirred from cover. Once again they moved to the end of the walking track and started along it, all casting worried looks along the tramline in the direction in which the two men had gone.
At that moment there was the sound of another vehicle stopping at the car park beside the highway.
“Wait!” Graham hissed. He trotted forward while the others waited in an anxious line at the end of the walking track. Peter found he was almost panting, so anxious had he become.
Within thirty seconds Graham re-appeared, running along the walking track and waving his arms to indicate they should move quickly back along the tramline to his right. Peter felt his heart thud into his mouth. He knew Graham too well to need any explanation.
As Graham reached them he hissed: “Two more men in black in a dark blue van. They haven’t got out. One is talking on a mobile phone or radio.”
“This way, quickly,” Peter said, pointing west along the tramline. They started walking fast along it. As he strode along Peter called quietly to Graham: “Should we try to hide?”
Graham shook his head. “Better get further away. If they come looking for us we need a bigger area to hide in.”
Gwen glanced back over her shoulder. “I don’t think they are looking for us,” she added.
“No, I agree,” Peter replied. “I think they are after you Sir Miles; and Sir Richard.”
Sir Miles turned an anxious and perspiring face to him: “You think it is another trap?”
Peter nodded. “Certainly looks like it.”
Sir Miles shook his head and muttered: “You may be right. But how did they learn of our movements? I don’t understand it.”
“Walk faster! We can discuss it later,” Graham urged.
The group strode along the tramline as fast as they could go. To Peter’s relief they rounded a curve after another hundred paces. It was hard going and they were soon all puffing for breath and sweating. Another hundred paces on they crossed a small dry creek with a sandy bed. The tramline went across on a low embankment. On both sides was a gloomy forest with plenty of undergrowth. Ahead stretched a long straight stretch of line for at least a hundred metres.
Stephen now had his mobile phone in his hand and turned it on. Gwen called to him, “Can you remember the numbers?”
Stephen nodded. “I put them into my phone but we haven’t got service just here.”
Peter nodded and remembered the topography. “We are in behind that ridge now, around a bend in the valley. Maybe when we get a bit further up the valley we will get it,” he suggested. But not getting through instantly set him sweating with anxiety.
“Should we dump our packs so we can run faster?” Stephen called.
Graham shook his head. “No. Not yet. They might find them.”
Peter agreed with this decision. Better still, it gave him the germ of an idea. The idea was reinforced as they passed through a patch of sunlight at the next bend.
“We should try to hide the two knights,” he suggested.
“How? What do you mean?” Gwen asked.
“Give them our spare camouflage uniforms to wear. That way they won’t be quite as conspicuous,” Peter replied.
“Good idea!” Gwen cried. Graham agreed. He urged them to keep walking, then said: “I don’t think that the Devil Worshippers knew we were there at all.” He turned to Sir Miles: “If you wear our uniforms then they will need to come quite close to identify you.”
Sir Miles nodded. “You are right. I think it is a sensible idea. What do you think Sir Richard?”
Sir Richard muttered and shook his head but agreed. “Yes. You are probably right. Do you have clothes that will fit us?”
“Doesn’t matter if they don’t fit,” Peter replied. “It is only from a distance that they will hide you.”
By that time the group were at least five hundred metres from the place where they had met the two knights and Jones. The tramline had curved left and come out into an area where there was thick forest on the left and a field of tall grass and weeds on the right. Beyond that they could hear cars on the highway.
Graham indicated the forest on their left as they reached another curve. “This will do. We will get you changed here. If we keep going we are going to come out into open country.”
Peter knew that Graham was right. A few hundred metres ahead was the turnoff at Petes Bridge and the area around the road junction and bridge were both quite open. “I’ll keep watch,” he offered. “You girls keep going for another hundred paces, then stop and wait for us.”
“I’ll help with a uniform,” Stephen offered.
Graham nodded. “Give me your spare uniform Pete. Steve,
give yours to Mr Jones,” he said, swinging off his own pack as he did.
Stephen sniffed. “Pity Charmaine isn’t with us,” he muttered. “Her clothes would have fitted easily.”
“Stephen!” Joy cried.
Graham frowned. “Get going you girls,” he ordered. As they continued walking he led the way off the tramline into the forest. Stephen crouched down behind a tree where he could see back along the line and began rummaging in his pack. Peter hauled off his pack and quickly undid the top, moved his shelter and jacket and dug out his spare camouflage shirt and trousers. He passed these to Sir Miles.
Graham did likewise. Sir Richard took the offered clothes and looked around. He appeared very hot and agitated. He gestured into the trees. “I will just change over there.”
“Don’t go far,” Graham replied.
“I need to go to the toilet as well,” Sir Richard replied stiffly. He moved off into the trees and was soon lost to sight. Sir Miles quickly shrugged off his jacket and white shirt. Graham took these and thrust them into his pack. The knight pulled on the camouflage shirt, then smiled.
“It certainly makes an instant change. Thank you. It is a very good idea. It is quite a few years since I last wore a camouflage jacket.”
Peter raised an eyebrow. Sir Miles replied: “I spent four years in the Royal Marines when I was young. In 40 Commando.”
Peter was impressed. So too was Graham. Sir Miles tugged off his trousers and heaved on the camouflage. At that moment Stephen called.
“I can hear voices.”
Graham moved quickly out to beside the tramline. Stephen pointed back the way they had come. “Someone called out back there.”
Sir Miles hurried to button the trousers up. Mr Jones struggled to get Stephen’s trousers over his jeans. Graham gestured to Peter. “Go and get Sir Richard. We had better keep moving fast.”
Peter nodded and turned, leaving his pack where it was. As quietly as he could he made his way deeper into the forest, taking care not to stand on dry sticks, his eyes questing anxiously for a sight of Sir Richard.
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