The Word of God

by Christopher Cummings

  Graham became impatient. “Hurry! It is getting dark!”

  Peter looked around and saw that he was right. The sunlight had gone from the top of the trees and it was getting quite gloomy. They set off in single file behind Graham. He led them to the left through the forest, heading up the re-entrant at a fast walk. As they went Joy said: “How did the Black Monk know to leave that man and the note there?”

  Peter swallowed and then shook his head. “He must have seen us after all,” he replied.

  Joy looked even more scared. “That’s what I thought.”

  Graham pointed out to their right. “There is probably one of the mongrels watching us right now from out on the crestline there somewhere.”

  Joy looked anxiously that way. “Won’t they follow us?” she asked.

  Graham shrugged. “Maybe. But I think they will depend on us handing over the Scroll in exchange for Gwen,” he replied.

  Peter glanced at his watch. It was 1750hrs. “I wonder where Stephen and Megan are?” he commented.

  They had begun to climb steeply up the hillside by then and it was a moment before Graham stopped and panted a reply. “I’ve been worrying about that. I have a sinking feeling that something has gone wrong.”

  “Oh no!” Joy gasped. “Oh how much more? I don’t think I can stand much more of this! I’m never coming hiking with you Cairns mob again!”

  That at least made Peter smile. He patted her. “We will be alright. We will get Gwen back and then all we have to do is walk down the mountain to Herberton, and that is easy going.”

  They puffed on up the re-entrant. Old Ned went slower and slower and kept stopping, much to Graham’s agitation. After a time Graham turned and went right. He pointed to their right.

  “The New Dam.”

  Peter looked. A few hundred metres away he caught sight of the bright blue reflection of water through the trees. That caused him to try to recall the layout of the roads and tracks in the area.

  Graham looked back at Old Ned and Frank, both of whom had stopped fifty metres behind. “We can’t wait for them. It is getting dark. We must be at the meeting place on time. I’m going.”

  “So am I,” Peter said.

  “Me too,” Joy added.

  Peter shook his head. “No you aren’t,” he replied.

  Sir Miles leaned on a tree to get his breath back. “I will come,” he said. “I got you into this. It is only fair that I take the risks.”

  Graham shook his head. “No. Gwen is one of us. We will go. Besides, we will be better in the bush. We are used to it.”

  They had arrived at a small level area with several clumps of rocks on the break of slope. More of the hill rose behind it. Graham stopped and looked around, then walked to one of the rock piles and peered over. He came back, nodding his head. “This place will do. We will be able to find it easily in the dark and you should have plenty of warning of anyone coming. You can see the road and part of the lake from those rocks. Keep a sentry there all the time Joy; and no talking, no smoking, no fires and no lights.”

  Joy looked very anxious. “Do you think they saw us come here?” she asked.

  “Maybe. But we can see all of that area where we came from so we now have the advantage, so keep a good lookout.”

  The place had been burnt not long before but a growth of short grass attested to recent rain. Peter pointed to a roughly rectangular hole nearby. “We aren’t the first to use this spot.”

  Graham nodded. “I saw a couple of others just over there.”

  Joy looked puzzled. “What are they?”

  “Old weapon pits. Some army unit has done an exercise here years ago,” Peter explained.

  By then Old Ned and Frank had joined them. Graham said: “If we don’t come back within the next two hours then go that way.” He pointed south across the slope.

  Peter saw a look of pain cross Joy’s face at that. “It might be a trap,” she whispered. Peter suspected she wanted to say ‘don’t go’, but was glad when she didn’t. Graham did not wait. He set of down the slope towards the dam. Satisfied that Sir Miles understood the position Peter held out the sack.

  “Look after the Scroll for us please Sir Miles.”

  “With my life. God be with you,” Sir Miles replied gravely.

  Peter met Joy’s eye briefly, then turned and hurried down the slope after Graham.

  It was easy going, which was just as well as Peter felt he was nearing the end of his physical endurance. Graham just walked in a straight line down the slope. As they went down Peter took in the lie of the land. He saw that the hill they were on was separated from another similar hill by the road they had been following. This came from his right rear through the forest to a junction in front of him. One branch of the road went down to the lake, whose waters he could just see to his right front. The other road went left over the low saddle between the two hills. He knew it then went on down the mountain. Peter remembered that there was a second dam and lake, much older, about a kilometre downstream.

  It must be somewhere over behind that other hill, he decided.

  The New Dam was at the right hand end of the second hill. He also recalled that a ring road completely encircled the other hill and that a side road ran off it down to the Old Dam. Off to the left, just out of sight, he knew there was another road junction where the ring road joined up with the road down the mountain.

  It was only a hundred metres down to the road junction leading to the New Dam. Graham paused at the road and then crossed it, to walk on through the long grass and ferns as fast as he could go. Peter had fleeting thoughts of snakes but he now felt so stunned by all the horrors he had seen that he just shrugged and pushed the thoughts aside.

  It was the failing light that was driving Graham. By the time they reached the edge of the trees beside the lake it was almost twilight in the forest. Out in the open however, it was still quite light. A clear blue sky still showed over the black shape of the jungle covered ridge beyond the lake.

  Around the edge of the lake was a clear area of short grass and the dirt road. Windrows of bulldozed trees were piled against the edge of the forest. Graham turned left while still among the trees and walked along behind these, rifle at the ready. A hundred metres ahead was the New Dam. This was a concrete structure built in the 1990s to improve Herberton’s water supply. The dam had a concrete spillway at their end. This was only about fifty paces long and had a concrete foot bridge three metres above it. Beyond the spillway the dam wall was rock and gravel. This went on, with a sharp kink in it to the left, for several hundred metres to the far side of the valley.

  Just looking at the footbridge made Peter’s flesh start to crawl. Anyone out on that is going to be very exposed! he thought. Vivid images of the Sniper flitted through his mind. Graham was clearly thinking the same thing as he kept scanning the grass and tree covered hill slope of the second hill. This was now close up to their left.

  “That’s where I’d be, if it was an ambush,” he said to Peter. “You take the rifle and face that way from here among these logs.”

  Peter shook his head. “No. You. You are the better shot. I’ll go out and negotiate,” he said.

  Graham also shook his head. “No. Joy needs you to get her home safe. I am going out. Just cover me.”

  It was obvious that Graham was determined. Peter was ashamed to feel a surge of relief. He took the rifle and moved forward. In among the logs he found a good spot where he could see most of the hill side and from where he was still able to see all of the footbridge and the dam wall. He rested the shotgun there and placed the M16 ready.

  Graham took off his webbing, had a drink and checked his watch. “Six twenty. I hope we aren’t too late.”

  With that he slipped out through the last few trees and walked straight out along the road. Peter watched him go, heart in mouth. At any second he expected to hear a rifle shot and to see Graham struck down.

  Nothing happened. Graham reached the end of the dam, fifty paces away
. He paused, looked in all directions, then stepped up onto the footbridge. Still nothing happened. Graham stood and looked around, then walked a few paces out onto the footbridge. He was now a sitting target for any sniper around three sides of the lake. To Peter the tension was almost unbearable. He carefully scrutinized the hillside for any sign of a hidden marksman, moving the rifle as he did, ready to shoot at the first sign of trouble.

  Still nothing. Minutes ticked by. Graham stood out on the footbridge. Peter again scanned the area. The light was going now and twilight was settling on the open areas as well. There was no wind and a few mosquitoes started to buzz. A flight of ducks swept down to settle on the calm waters of the lake.

  Out of the corner of his eye Peter saw Graham straighten up. He had been leaning on the railings. Now he turned and stood to face the dam. Peter looked that way; and sucked in his breath in fear.

  Devil Worshippers! Two of them. No, three.

  The first two were dressed in black balaclavas, black skivvies and black trousers. Both had weapons. The third Devil Worshipper was the Black Monk.

  He stopped at the edge of the trees at the far end of the dam wall and stood with crossed arms. Peter moved the sights onto him. Three hundred metres. I could drop him, he thought.

  Then he shifted his attention to the first two. The front one had some sort of red badge on the left breast of his jacket and was carrying a sub-machine gun. The second one had a sniper rifle. The two men walked steadily out along the top of the dam. When they were near the kink in the dam wall the second man lay down and aimed his rifle at Graham. The first one kept walking.

  Peter shook his head in admiration as Graham stood unmoving. Peter knew it was potentially a most deadly situation and he tensed ready.

  Who should I aim at, the front one with the SMG; the Sniper; or the Black Monk? After a moment’s thought he shifted his aim back to the Black Monk. I won’t be able to fire in time to save Graham from that first bloke, and the sniper is too hard to hit. I will kill that mongrel of a Black Monk if anything happens, he resolved.

  He wasn’t confident of hitting at that range but he thought it was the right decision. I’ll get several chances to get Number One. He is a long way from cover out on top of that dam.

  The light was fading fast now and that worried him too. The Black Monk was hard to see against the background of dark forest and the Sniper was just a vague black mound on the dam wall.

  The first Devil Worshipper reached the other end of the footbridge and stopped. He began talking to Graham. Peter could not hear what they were saying but was relieved that he hadn’t simply opened fire. Peter saw Graham point in his direction and guessed Graham was telling the man he was there with a rifle.

  The talking went on for ten minutes. At one stage voices were raised and Peter sucked in his breath.

  That is Sir Richard, the Black Knight!

  Finally an agreement was reached. By then it was almost dark and Peter could no longer see the Black Monk or the Sniper and even had trouble distinguishing Graham and the Black Knight. Abruptly both turned and walked back off the bridge at the same time. Peter breathed out and flexed his muscles. He realized he was getting cold and starting to cramp up.

  Graham walked back and called him; “That was the Black Knight.”

  Peter stood up, picked up the shotgun, and moved out to join him. “I know. I heard him. Well? What is the deal?”

  “We have to come back at midnight. We are to come here, two of us and two of them from the other end, same as then. They are to be allowed to send someone over to check that the Scroll is the genuine article. That person is then to be allowed to return to the other side. I am then to walk forward to the middle of the bridge with the Scroll. At the same time one of them is to walk across with Gwen. We are to hand over at the same time, then back off,” Graham explained.

  Peter turned this plan over in his mind. “I don’t like it. There are some nasty holes in the plan. They have more advantages than we do.”

  “Yes, I know, but they know we want Gwen; and they also know we know they aren’t bluffing,” Graham replied.

  Images of the mutilated body nailed to the tree only a few hundred paces back along the track swamped Peter’s mind. He recoiled from the utter horror of it. Poor Gwen! He said: “They could have people waiting on this bank in ambush to hit us on our way back with Gwen.”

  “Yes, so we will need to check it out carefully beforehand. I am more worried that they will start shooting on the footbridge the moment they have the Scroll.”

  The two friends walked slowly back along the road while they talked. There seemed no point in creeping at that moment as the Devil Worshippers knew they were there anyway. Peter thought hard, then said: “What if I turn a torch on as soon as you go out to the middle. That way I will be less likely to miss. I will move out to one side to get a clear shot as well.”

  Graham considered this. “That will have to do.”

  They were at the road junction below the place where the others were waiting by then. In under the trees it was very dark. Peter could just distinguish trees so as not to walk into them. They began walking up the hill side by side.

  “No moon tonight,” Graham commented.

  They puffed slowly up. Peter had to force his protesting leg muscles to work and broke into a sweat despite the cold. A quiet challenge from Joy stopped them.

  “It is us,” Peter replied. He heard Joy’s gasp of relief and went quickly to her. “It is alright,” he reassured her.

  “Where is Gwen? When are you getting her?” Joy asked.

  Peter eased himself down to sit on a large rock beside her. He could just make out the shapes of the others in the darkness. “We get her at midnight. That makes me think she is not here and they have to go and get her.”

  At that moment Graham said quietly: “Are you smoking Frank?”

  Peter realized he had been able to smell the tobacco smoke but hadn’t made the connection in his mind.

  Frank grunted. “Yeah. I need a puff,” he replied sullenly.

  “Put it out!” Graham said. His voice was quiet but firm.

  “I got it covered. No one can see it,” Frank replied. His tone indicated he resented being spoken to like that by a mere boy.

  “I could smell it down on the road,” Graham replied. “If you want to endanger your life that is your business, but if you want to stay with us then co-operate; or you can bugger off!” he grated.

  “Don’t tell me what to do boy! I ain’t one of yer bloody boy soldiers,” Frank said.

  “I don’t want anyone else to end up like that poor bastard nailed to the tree back there so either do it our way or clear out,” Graham replied.

  Frank muttered, but the image was a powerful one and, at Sir Miles’ urging, he stubbed the cigarette out. To ease the tension Peter said: “No sign of the police or Stephen yet.”

  Graham answered: “No. I think they might have encountered the National Machine Gun Association on their field day.”

  “As long as they didn’t use them as targets,” Peter said.

  Joy gasped. “Oh Peter! How can you say things like that!”

  Peter rested his hand on her shoulder. “Because we may as well joke. It makes the reality easier to bear.”

  Joy moved slightly so that her arm pressed against his. “What are the arrangements to get Gwen?”

  These were described and the problems discussed. Joy said: “I am coming with you next time.”

  “No. It is too risky.”

  “I am coming. I’m a CUO too. I will cover the rear with the shotgun. I will be safe enough there.”

  Peter had to agree it was a good idea. Sir Miles insisted he also join them. He said: “Why don’t we all move down. That way, as soon as we have Gwen we can get going?”

  Graham thought for a while, then vetoed it. “No. We are not going down the road. We are going down the mountainside. It will be better to go back over that way.” He pointed in the dark but they knew what
he meant.

  “How can we go down a bloody mountain in the dark?” Frank challenged.

  “Very slowly. Crawl if we have to. It doesn’t matter if we only cover a hundred metres an hour, it gets us safe out of this area,” Graham replied. “You don’t have to come with us.”

  “Let’s not argue please,” Joy said. “I want to get some rest. I’m exhausted.”

  “Good idea. I’m worn out too,” Peter agreed.

  “And bloody hungry!” Graham said with a laugh.

  “Yes, it’s been a long time since breakfast,” Peter agreed. “Do we have a sentry roster?”

  Joy answered. “Not yet. I’ll make one up,” she replied. She sat and thought for a minute, then said: “It’s only till midnight isn’t it?”

  “Only till eleven,” Graham replied. “I want to have plenty of time to get down there and check the place out.”

  “Only four hours then. Two people on together,” Peter said.

  Joy quickly worked out a simple roster: Old Ned for the first two hours: 1900 to 2100, with Graham for one hour, till 2000. Then Joy for two hours:2100 to 2300, with Peter from 2000 to 2200. Sir Miles was to take over from him for the period 2200 to 2300.

  “That will be fine,” Peter said.

  “So what about us then?” Frank asked. “What do we do when you go to get this girl?”

  Peter was starting to feel annoyed at the old man. “You and Old Ned can wait up here till we get back with Gwen,” he replied.

  Frank didn’t like it and grumbled but they ignored that. Peter went off and relieved himself, then came back and found a flat area nearby which he cleared of sticks. He placed the shotgun within easy reach, took off his webbing, had a big drink, then stretched himself out. There was a bit of quiet talking from the others as they organized themselves.

  Peter tried to relax but found his thoughts being drawn back to the ghastly scene back along the road. He found he was shivering and sweating and knew he was near the end of his strength. Someone moved beside him. It was Joy. Without a word she laid out her gear and placed the captured radio against a tree.

  Surely she’s not going to sleep beside me? he thought.