The Word of God (29 page)

The gun! I must stick the driver up!
Peter thought as terror washed through him.

He sprang to his feet and tried to get the gun out of his pocket. But the weapon snagged and he experienced the ghastly sensation of desperately wanting to act but being foiled. Worse still he saw the driver, a Devil Worshipper for sure, leap out and start reaching for his own gun.

There was a blur of rush and movement but Peter's whole focus was on survival. Desperately he struggled to get the gun clear, only dimly noting that the vehicle had rolled backwards a few metres into the middle of the highway. People pushed past behind him and others were yelling. And then he had the gun out and swung it up to aim. He saw the Devil Worshipper's eyes widen in horror as he saw it. The man turned and dashed back behind his vehicle and then around to the far side of it.

Stephen and Joy ran past, hurrying Gwen between them. Sir Miles followed. Peter found he could not pull the trigger and found himself running with the others. But he was very conscious that the Devil Worshipper had been trying to get a gun out of his own pocket so he kept glancing back, the instinct of self-preservation helping him to focus.

Thus he saw the Devil Worshipper pull his gun clear and then cock it. It was a revolver, a huge looking thing with a long barrel. The sight of it sent another spasm of terror pulsing through Peter.

He's going to shoot!
Peter thought in near panic.

“Down!” he screamed. Without realizing what he was doing he stopped running and went into a crouch, steadying his own gun with both hands.

With amazement and disbelief he saw the Devil Worshipper's pistol level on him and a puff of smoke appear at its muzzle. At the same instant he squeezed the trigger of the Beretta- but nothing happened. There was a sharp crack close to the side of his head.

Safety catch!
Peter swore angrily at him self and fumbled at it.

Bang! Bang!

Sir Miles crouched beside him and snapped off two shots. The windscreen of the 4WD starred and the Devil Worshipper ducked out of sight. Sir Miles grabbed at Peter's sleeve.

“Run! Come on! Quick!”

Peter turned and scuttled for cover, slithering over the side of the bank, furious with himself for forgetting the safety catch. He now slipped it off and risked a glance back up over the edge of the road from behind a tree. Joy clung to the steep, grassy slope nearby, her mouth open in anxiety.

Next to her was Gwen. She was shaking her head. “My phone! It's on the road under the vehicle,” she cried.

Peter glanced that way but could not see it. Sir Miles grabbed at Gwen and pulled her down. “Too bad! We can't get it now,” he said.

The Devil Worshipper snapped a shot from behind the back of his vehicle.
Peter did not even hear where the bullet went but he was angry as well as frightened so he levelled the gun and pulled the trigger.

Bang! The pistol bucked in his hand and the reek of burnt gun oil and cordite wafted into his nostrils, increasing the surge of adrenalin into his system. There was a sharp metallic ‘whang!' as the bullet struck the man's vehicle. The Devil Worshipper ducked again and Peter glimpsed his boots under the vehicle.

Stephen moved to a crouch beside Peter and he saw that he had his revolver out. Bobbing quickly up Stephen levelled it and fired. Just as quickly he dropped down. “Made the bastard jump!” he commented.

Peter risked another glance and saw a car pull up on the other side of the 4WD.

Glancing around he saw the others crouching and looking terrified. Gesturing frantically he shouted: “Keep going. That way, around the bend and run up the road!”

Gwen nodded and started moving. She tried to run but the slope was too steep and was covered with a matt of deadfall:- dry leaves and twigs which offered no firm footing. The others followed her lead but they had to scrabble along, using rocks and trees to gain a handhold or footing. Peter waited until Sir Miles was moving then followed, his whole body quivering with excitement and fear.

“What will we do now?” Joy gasped.

Peter found he was sucking in great rasping breaths and he had to steady himself to answer. “Get out of range to start with, then try to stop a car and hitch,” he replied. Even as he said this he heard a car race past going down the range. He risked a look and saw a red sports car screeching to stop to avoid hitting the 4WD. He also saw the Devil Worshipper gesturing to the driver to pass him. The red sports car squeezed through the gap and went around the bend out of sight.

A horrible thought flashed through Peter's mind. “I think he's stopping all the cars coming up,” he said. At that moment the radio crackled. Joy looked at him questioningly. She was red in the face from the exertion and clearly very scared.

Peter nodded. “Listen to it. It might help us,” he said. Joy paused to haul the radio out, then continued scrambling along the hillside behind him. As she did she gasped out every thing the radio said.

“It is from.. puff.. Six Five Five to BM. He isn't using code. I think it is that man back there. He says: ‘Enemy are at the highway. Have been fired on. Enemy now running up the highway. I have blocked all traffic going up. Send instructions.”

Peter grabbed Joy's arm as she slipped on the steep slope. It was obvious to him they were in real trouble and ahead of them the side of the mountain looked vertical. “Get up on the road and run. We are going too slow here,” he ordered.

They scrambled up onto the bitumen. By this time they were fifty metres from the 4WD, which was almost hidden around the bend. As Peter scrambled up, hauling Joy with him, he saw the Devil Worshipper briefly but Stephen snapped a shot and the man ducked back out of sight.

Sir Miles turned and crouched behind a tree beside the road. “Run! I will cover you,” he yelled. He leaned out and snapped a shot, which was answered almost at once. Where it went Peter had no idea but it sent a wave of bowel loosening terror through him and he ran.

Joy cried out and for an instant Peter feared she had been hit but she was only gasping out another radio message. “It is the Black Monk, I can tell by his accent. He told that man to block all traffic up the mountain but to allow all cars coming down to pass through once he has checked we are not on board. He says they will block the highway further up.”

Gwen gasped. “That means he is already in front of us,” she cried.

That sent another spasm of fear pulsing through Peter and his eyes searched through the trees to where the scar of the road cut went across the face of the escarpment but no cars were visible.

Trapped!
he thought.
Enemy in front and behind!

Joy called again, slowing to a gasping walk as she did. “The Black Monk is asking Six Five Six where he is.”

Peter nodded and glanced back. They were now out of sight of the man. “OK, slow down,” he said.

Another glance behind showed Stephen and Sir Miles pounding up the road behind them, both with pistols in hand. As they joined them Joy said: “Six Five Six is answering. He says he has just reached Six Five Five at the Knob.”

“That will be the two we saw following us,” Gwen suggested.

Peter nodded grimly. Three behind; and how many in front? But what to do next? “Keep running,” he said.

In his mind was an emergency plan of turning and going down the side of the mountain back into the Mulgrave valley. They had no option of going to their right as the other side of the Highway was a steep rock cutting. They ran another hundred paces around another curve before slowing to a gasping walk.

“What do we do?” Joy asked anxiously.

Peter steadied his breathing. “Try to throw them off the track,” he said after
a moment. “Go down there if we have to.” He pointed over the side down into the valley.

Sir Miles shook his head. “But I must get up the mountain!” he replied. “I must get there before the Black Monk and Sir Richard.”

In his fear and distress Peter experienced a surge of anger. “Well you can't! They are already in front of us,” he snapped back angrily. “So forget your bloody quest.”

“I wasn't thinking of the quest,” Sir Miles answered. He swallowed and gasped for air. Peter saw that he was very red in the face and looking extremely distressed. Sir Miles looked grim and went on: “I was worrying about the person who is the next contact. If Sir Richard gets to him first I fear they may be killed, once they have given him the information on where to go next.”

That put things in a very different light and Peter had the grace to blush at his selfishness. But there were still the girls to consider. Unsure of what to do he kept on walking, the others puffing and panting along with him.

Gwen hurried along beside him. “No cars,” she pointed out.

“No.”

Joy listened to the radio again. “The Black Monk, telling Six Five Six to keep the road blocked and to follow us on foot with two men.”

That speeded them up. Peter felt utterly winded and had the beginnings of a stitch. As he strode along he began scanning the ground for places where a last ditch stand had some chance of holding out till the police arrived. The steep, high ridge on their right offered the best possibility, if only they could get up onto it.

I must pick the safest place I can, where we can hold them off with minimum risk to the girls. A place that isn't dominated by higher ground.

Into Peter's calculations came the memory of the Sniper with his rifle and telescopic sights to chill his blood and freeze his brain.

It must be a place where we can't be picked off from long range either,
he thought.
Oh my God!

By now they were all gasping for breath and sweating and their running had slowed to a painful jog. They rounded another curve. To Peter's relief the long cutting ended and he saw it would now be possible to double back up onto the higher ground above it. He also saw that the ridge joined the main escarpment only another hundred metres on at some sort of flat clearing beside the road.

Gwen pointed to the clearing. “I know where we are,” she said. “This is a lookout or something. We stopped here for breakfast on that senior exercise.”

Peter experienced a series of vivid flashbacks and nodded. “It is the bottom
of a walking track,” he corrected. As soon as he saw the sign he changed his plan and he crossed to the right of the road and hurried on up to the clearing.

The flat area was a parking area. A sign proclaimed: ROBSONS TRACK

“Up there,” Peter gasped, pointing up the dirt foot track which went steeply up the ridge through open timber.

“Where does it go?” Joy asked.

“It is a walking track that follows one of the old pioneer pack trails,” Peter replied. “They used it in the nineteenth century before proper roads were built to get from Cairns to the Tablelands.”

“Is this the track you mentioned earlier, the one that leads up to the Gillies Lookout?” Sir Miles asked.

Peter nodded. “Yes. It goes up to the top of the mountain and left along the crest to the Lookout,” he replied. Without waiting he led the way to the end of the track and started up it, casting frequent glances back along the highway.

Sir Miles stopped and looked back. “How long will it take? Is it far?” he asked.

Peter took several deep breaths and went to answer but Gwen did instead. “It will take a couple of hours if we push it,” she answered.

“That may be too late,” Sir Miles replied in a grim tone.

“Too bad!” Peter cried. “We can't do any better. Now, let's get away from here before those men catch up.”

He now led them up the foot trail, walking and climbing as fast as he could. The others followed, panting and gasping and sweating but obviously driven by fear. The track led up a short section of steps and past a bronze plaque commemorating the early pioneers, then wound back and forth up the spur in short, steep zig zags. At one of these they were granted a clear view back down the Highway for a hundred metres.

Peter at once made a decision. “Keep going. I am staying here to act as rearguard. If those Devil Worshippers come up after us I will be able to warn them off,” he said.

Or ambush them properly,
he thought.

Joy wanted to argue but Peter stepped off the track and pushed her past. Gwen nodded and Sir Miles met his eyes and gave a brief smile. “Don't stay long, and don't get cut off,” he cautioned.

Peter nodded. “I'll be right. Keep going, a steady plod. I will catch you up. Go!”

Stephen paused and said: “I will pick a spot another hundred metres up the track to give you cover if you have to pull back in a hurry.”

“Thanks mate. I will only wait five minutes, then follow you,” Peter replied.

As the others plodded on up the narrow sandy track Peter found a good spot behind some rocks where he could see back down to the Highway and car park.

This is a good place. If I can force them over the side of the highway they will have a real problem to get back across and then to catch us up,
he reasoned.

He settled under cover, wiped sweat from his eyes, then took out his water bottle and had a big drink. As he replaced the bottle in his webbing he felt his pulse. It was still above normal but slowing. A glance at his watch showed him it was 11:45 and that he had already waited three minutes.

A movement back near the bend in the Highway caught his eye. He stared at the place but could not be sure. Was it a person or not? A minute went by. Peter scanned the ridge below him, then checked his watch. Five minutes- time to go. He wanted to stay longer but disciplined himself to move.

But just as he stood up he glimpsed movement and paused. Into view came two men in black. They were hurrying along the side of the highway beside the steep drop and both had guns. Peter leaned on a tree to steady his hands and then aimed the pistol at the middle of the bitumen beside the first man. He had no desire to shoot anyone, and quailed at the thought of killing another human.