The Word of God

by Christopher Cummings

  As the knights approached the two men stood up and faced them across the small sandy clearing. Peter did not hear what was said but it was obvious it was the right thing as the men relaxed and motioned to the knights and Mr Jones to be seated. As the cadets approached the bearded man obviously asked who they were as he looked at them and Sir Miles turned towards them.

  The cadets reached them while Sir Miles was explaining. The man looked worried and grunted. Stephen said ‘hello’ and got a perfunctory nod.

  We aren’t welcome here, Peter sensed.

  He called: “We will go to Little Mulgrave now. Does this track go there?” The bearded man nodded. “Yes. Follow it out to where it joins a bitumen road just near this end of Fairweathers Bridge, turn right and it is a kilometre or so to the pub.”

  “Thanks. Well, we’ll be off. Good luck with your… with your search,” Peter said.

  Sir Miles stood up and said: “I’d like to thank you again for your help. You saved our lives. We won’t forget. And I’m sorry we can’t explain what we are doing.”

  Gwen smiled. “That’s alright. It’s none of our business,” she answered.

  Graham started walking up the track. Peter and the others followed. It was a short, steep climb of about twenty five metres through a tunnel of trees. Head-high guinea grass lined both sides of the narrow, rutted track.

  Half way up Peter glanced back. The men were seating themselves around the fire. Once again he wished he could find out what the object of the knight’s quest was.

  Oh well, we will probably never know, he told himself.

  At that moment there was the sound of a vehicles engine. No sooner had Graham called a warning than another white 4WD burst into view. The vehicle was being driven much too fast for safety on the narrow track. It crested the rise and was on them before the driver saw the danger.

  “Lookout!” Graham shouted. He jumped backwards into the long grass. Peter sprang aside, bumping into Joy and sending her sprawling backwards as he did. Overbalanced by her pack she tumbled into the long grass. Peter was about to move to help her when his mind registered that the vehicle was skidding to a stop.

  Devil Worshipper! The driver was dressed in black and wore a rolled up black balaclava on his head. Even as the vehicle stopped right beside Peter the man acted. The door was flung open and he stepped out, a pistol in his hand. Peter could only gape.

  The Devil Worshipper looked just as astonished as them but he quickly recovered. “Hands up! Move over there. All of you. Get in a group where I can see you.”

  Gwen stepped back. “No! Who are you?” she challenged.

  “Don’t argue. Just do as I say,” the Devil Worshipper snapped, waving the gun at them. “I am police special branch; and this gun is loaded, now move!”

  Police? It was possible, but Peter didn’t think so. However he could not think of any alternative to moving so walked over beside Graham and Stephen.

  Gwen still stood her ground. “I don’t believe you. Show me your badge, or card or whatever.”

  By now the Devil Worshipper had seen the group down at the fire. Peter glanced that way and sucked in his breath in fear. Both Sir Richard and Sir Miles had drawn pistols and one of the men had produced a rifle from somewhere. In two steps the Devil Worshipper was beside Gwen. He grabbed her arm and placed the muzzle of the pistol at her head.

  “Nobody move or she gets it! You people drop the guns.”

  Peter felt his heart squeeze in apprehension. That Gwen was in mortal danger he had no doubt. But what to do? He was sure that the meeting was not planned. The Devil Worshipper had been as surprised as they were and appeared to be trying to extract himself. A glance showed that the men had not obeyed. They began walking towards them and spreading out.

  Fear showed on the Devil Worshipper’s face. He moved to use Gwen to shield himself and repeated his threats. “You blokes drop the guns or I shoot the girl.”

  Sir Miles aimed his pistol. “You do and you die as well,” he replied. “Not before I kill a couple more of these kids,” the Devil Worshipper retorted. He waved his pistol at the group, who were now clustered on one side of the track. Sir Miles gave an order and the men stopped moving but still kept their guns ready. Peter measured the distance with his eye, hoping for an opportunity to somehow grab the man’s gun.

  The Devil Worshipper divined their intentions. He stepped backwards, dragging Gwen with him. For a moment he again took his gun away from her head and pointed it. “Lie down over there, all of you. Quick, or the girl gets it!”

  At that moment Joy stepped out from behind the man’s vehicle. Peter saw her and the angry thought crossed his mind that he shouldn’t have let his eyes give her away as the Devil Worshipper started to look over his shoulder.

  Before he had time to do this Joy struck. Her staff whistled down to whack into the Devil Worshipper’s wrist. The pistol went flying and landed on the dirt. The Devil Worshipper yelled in pain and fright and spun around but by then Joy had raised her staff again. Fear showed on her face and in evident self-defence she brought the heavy stick down hard again, hitting him right on top of his skull with a loud thud. The man just buckled at the knees and collapsed. Peter sprang forward to get the pistol but Stephen was quicker. He dived forward and snatched it up. Graham joined Peter in holding the man down, both kneeling on him.

  “Out like a light. Bloody good hit Joy!” Graham said.

  Joy however looked very distressed. “I didn’t kill him did I?”

  Graham shook his head. “No, the mongrel’s still breathing.”

  At that Joy turned and embraced Gwen and both girls burst into tears. Megan moved to comfort them. Sir Miles led a rush up to join them.

  Graham did not wait. “Steve, get up to the top of the slope and warn us if any more of these buggers are coming.”

  Stephen nodded, checked the pistol and pushed his way up past the vehicle, which completely blocked the track.

  Sir Miles and the others joined them. “What happened? What is going on?”

  “A Devil Worshipper,” Graham said. “Get some rope Pete and we will tie the bugger up.”

  The man in the singlet stepped back and cried aloud: “A Devil Worshipper! Here? In North Queensland? It isn’t possible!”

  Sir Miles gave a grim smile. “I’m afraid it is. They captured us two days ago and tried to sacrifice us. These cadets saved us.”

  The man blanched and crossed himself, muttered a prayer and peered down at the Devil Worshipper. “Where did he come from?”

  “He is probably a local,” Peter replied. “They have a branch in Gordonvale apparently.”

  Again the man crossed himself. The look of pure fear on his face made the hairs on the back of Peter’s neck stand on end.

  Sir Miles said: “They must be still after us. I thought they might lose interest now that the police are after them.”

  Sir Richard shook his head. He looked very agitated and fingered his pistol nervously. “Not Devil Worshippers. They won’t give up. They are too scared of Satan.”

  That sent a shiver of fear through Peter. He looked anxiously around and the horrible thought crossed his mind that they might be hunted for the rest of their lives Which might not be all that long!

  The second man looked aghast. “Are you sure they are Devil Worshipers?” he asked. He looked very pale and had broken into a sweat, which did nothing to ease Peter’s growing alarm.

  Graham looked up and shook his head. “No, but it would be a mighty odd if he was just a harmless picnicker the way he carried on,” he replied.

  “He said he was police,” Megan put in, her voice cracking with anxiety.

  “Crap! He is a crook!” Graham snorted. “Soon check anyway.” He proceeded to search the man’s pockets while Peter dropped his pack and fished out some nylon cord.

  A quick search produced nothing other than a name: Leroy Morris.

  “There might be more in his vehicle,” Peter suggested. He moved to the 4WD and began to search
.

  Gwen joined him. “What was he doing? Why is he here?” she asked. She was very white and shaken, but anger sounded in her voice.

  Sir Miles looked around anxiously. “Looking for us I suppose,” he replied.

  “Which means we lost them when we turned off along the river bank,” Graham said.

  Megan waved her arms and looked agitated. “Come on, let’s get out of here!” she cried.

  “Good idea,” agreed the man in the singlet. “We don’t want any trouble from these fellows.”

  “Can you drive and get the police please?” Peter asked as he rummaged among a litter of clothing and articles on the front seat.

  “Yes.”

  Megan again insisted they move. “Stop wasting time talking! We need to go before any more come along. Let’s go!”

  “Calm down Meg,” Graham said. She turned and snapped at him, her voice almost cracking with hysteria.

  “No! I want to get out of here. I’m going!”

  “Not before we do,” the man in the singlet said.

  Gwen looked at him. “Can we go with you in your four wheel drive?” she asked.

  The man shook his head emphatically. “No fear! We don’t want to be seen with any of you! We have to live in this place and we don’t want anyone to associate us with you, not with Devil Worshippers looking for vengeance.”

  Graham stood up. “Stop scaring the girls,” he said.

  “Oh poo to you Graham Kirk!” Gwen snapped. “Don’t be so sexist. I’ll bet you are scared too!”

  The man in the singlet waved his arms at them. “Stop arguing and get out of the way,” he ordered.

  “Why? What are you going to do?” Graham asked.

  “Shift this vehicle out of the way so we can drive out. Get out kid so I can move it,” he snarled.

  Peter resented being called a kid but did as he was told. In his hand he held another of the small radios similar to the one they had captured on the first day, plus a small notebook which he suspected was the codebook. On the cover was the number 654.

  The man in the singlet jumped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Graham and Joy hauled the unconscious Devil Worshipper aside and Gwen moved their packs. The bearded man and the two knights walked back down to the men’s vehicle, deep in earnest conversation.

  Within a minute the man had driven the vehicle down onto the river bank and parked it among the trees. He hopped out and walked straight to his own 4WD and got in. He friend climbed in, still talking to an anxious looking Sir Miles. The doors were slammed. The man leaned out and shouted: “Don’t you bloody kids mention to anyone you have seen us, got it?”

  Peter nodded and Gwen said yes. The vehicle’s engine roared to life. Within a few seconds it went roaring up the slope out of sight.

  The friends looked at each other, then at the two knights. Gwen asked Sir Miles: “Sir, did you get the information you needed?”

  “Yes thank you. Now, you young people had better get moving,” Sir Miles replied.

  “What will we do with this fellow?” Joy asked, pointing to the now trussed up Devil Worshipper.

  Sir Miles answered. “We will guard him till you can send the police,” he said. “Then we will go with them, or walk to this hotel and telephone from there.”

  “Are you finished your quest?” Gwen asked.

  Sir Miles shook his head. “Sorry, I can’t tell you,” he replied.

  Sir Richard scowled at Gwen and said: “There’s been too much talk already. Get going you kids.”

  At that moment the radio let out a crackle. Peter nearly dropped it. For a moment he stared at it as a voice called: “Six Five Four this is Six Six, over.”

  On an impulse Peter tossed the notebook to Gwen and said to Joy: “Copy this down, quick!”

  As Joy fished out her pencil and notebook the radio called again. Peter took a deep breath and pressed the switch. “Six Six this is Six Five Four, over.”

  “About bloody time!” replied 66. He then said: “Message, over.”

  “Send, over,” Peter answered, hoping that his voice sounded like the prisoners.

  66 then spoke in trigram code: “Delta Whisky Bravo, Delta Yankee Juliet, Delta Alpha Oscar, Delta Lima Mike, Delta Oscar Zulu, message ends, over.”

  As the man spoke Peter repeated the words aloud. Joy, who had sat down on her pack and put her notebook on her knee, wrote them down. As soon as he finished Peter fished out the small notebook and leafed quickly through it. “Ah! Yes! Their code. Quick Joy, call out the trigrams and write the answers.”

  Joy did as she was told. Peter rapidly scanned the columns of trigrams and words. They were arranged in alphabetical order in the ‘Decode’ section so he quickly found the first one.

  “Delta Whisky Bravo means ‘are’.” he said. Joy wrote this and Peter went on scanning, running his fingers down the page. Stay calm! he told himself, aware that his heart was beating very fast and he was feeling pressured and flustered. “Delta Yankee Juliet is ‘you’.”

  Within a minute he had the answer: ARE YOU IN POSITION YET. As soon as he saw what it was he flicked the page to the encode section and found ‘Yes’. He then spoke into the radio. “Six Six this is Six Five Four, over.”

  “Send Six Five Four.”

  “Delta Lima Romeo, over,”

  “Roger Six Five Four, message to follow.”

  “Send, over,” Peter replied, very aware that his voice was on the edge of breaking with nervousness.

  This message was longer and had twelve trigrams. While these were being decoded Megan fretted and grumbled and insisted they start walking. Peter ignored her and Gwen and Graham knelt to check the unconscious prisoner.

  Peter read the message, checked a trigram and called back: “Six Six this is Six Five Four, Delta Alpha Whisky, over.”

  “Roger Six Five Four, out.”

  Peter heaved an audible sigh of relief. Gwen looked up. “What was that all about?”

  “He told me to remain in position until further orders and to report all sightings. The last part was an ‘ack’.”

  “A what?” Megan asked.

  “An ‘ack’, meaning to acknowledge that I had received the orders and understood them,” Peter explained.

  Graham straightened up. “That means they don’t know we have this character prisoner.”

  Peter nodded. “No. And better still, it probably means they won’t send anyone else here to look as long as they think their man here is watching the area.”

  Gwen nodded. “That’s right,” she agreed.

  “So! Let’s get going,” Megan said.

  Peter shook his head. “No. I’ve got a better idea. This is a safe place to be, at least for a while. I think we should hide here while the two fittest go to Little Mulgrave to meet Captain Conkey.”

  Sir Miles nodded. “I agree. We are safe as a group and they obviously don’t know where we are.”

  Graham pointed to the vehicle. “We could drive this bloke’s truck,” he suggested.

  Peter shook his head. “No, too obvious. His mates would recognize it and we don’t know where the rest of them are,” he said.

  “Who will go?” Gwen asked.

  “Pete and me,” Graham replied at once. “We will take one gun and no gear.

  That will leave you with three guns. And if we run into trouble we can take to the bush.”

  Gwen frowned and Megan looked very anxious. “How long will it take?” she asked.

  “Twenty minutes? Half an hour?” Graham guessed. “Then another half hour or so before the cops arrive.”

  “What will we do if you don’t.. if you don’t return?” Gwen asked.

  “Hide in the scrub, then make your way to the nearest farm and phone the cops,” Peter replied. “Graham, get Steve down here to take over this radio. Gwen, you go sentry up there on the rise. Let’s get organized.”

  Chapter 13

  PETER!

  Graham checked the pistol, then turned to Peter. “OK Pe
te, ready?”

  Peter nodded. “Yes.”

  At that Joy let out a little cry and said: “Oh Peter! Do be careful!”

  “We will be. You people keep hidden here,” Peter replied. With that he turned away, hotly aware that Joy cared for him.

  As the two youths started walking up the track Megan called anxiously after them: “Do you have to go? Shouldn’t these men go instead? I think you should stay here Peter.”

  Peter was embarrassed by Megan’s emotional outburst. He called back: “We won’t be long.” Shaking his head in confusion he continued on up the slope behind Graham who muttered over his shoulder: “Megan must be sweet on you too Pete. I note she wasn’t worried about me going.”

  “What do you mean by too?” Peter asked, both nettled and even more embarrassed.

  “Isn’t it obvious? Joy thinks you are wonderful, though I can’t imagine why,” Graham replied.

  Peter could only grunt and pretend that he was puffed from the steep slope.

  At the top they found Stephen standing amid head high grass and weeds looking out over a wasteland of long grass which extended for hundreds of metres to the high bank of the river. The vehicle track, two wheel ruts, curved right and went steeply down into this and was soon lost to sight.

  Graham gave Stephen a quick explanation of their plan then, with a casual: “See you later,” he continued on. Stephen grinned and patted Peter on the shoulder as he passed. There were times when Peter could not stand Stephen but at that moment he was glad he was there. With something of a shock he realized he had been worrying about leaving the girls. Knowing Stephen was on guard and could be depended on eased his mind.

  Graham walked fast down the slope onto the flat grassy area. Here the rough track curved slowly left to run along below the high grassy bank. The grass was shoulder high, allowing them to see over it. On the left, a hundred metres off, was the line of trees marking the line of the river. These grew on top of a long mound.

  Graham studied his map, then pointed to the tree covered ridge. “This flat area was the old gravel quarry. They dug it all out, leaving that low ridge beside the river. Now the quarry is all overgrown.”