The Word of God (49 page)

Peter studied the man. He was nailed up by his hands. His body was streaked with blood and he appeared to have been tortured and mutilated. From the amount of blood on his chest his throat had been cut. It was apparent that he was dead as Graham made no attempt to get him down.

Crucified!
he thought in shocked disbelief.
Just like Jesus!

Suddenly it was too much for him and he bent over and retched. Water and mucous mostly as he had not eaten properly for two days. He was not alone. Sir Miles broke into a sweat and looked very pale and Frank also vomited. Joy sat further back, her pale face just visible.

Graham came back to them and crouched under cover. “Dead,” he said flatly. “Nailed up and mutilated. They must have tortured the poor bugger for quite a while. This was on the body.” He held out the note and from the haunted look of anguish in his eyes Peter knew it was more bad news.

He read it. As he did he felt a wave of cold shock and dread such as he had never experienced grip him. It said:

GIVE ME THE SCROLL AND I WILL GIVE YOU
THE GIRL. IF YOU DO NOT THEN SHE WILL DIE
A HORRIBLE DEATH WORSE THAN THIS FOOL
AND YOU WILL HEAR HER DIE.
TO ARRANGE THIS MEET ME AT THE NEW DAM
AT SUNSET. YOU MAY BRING ONE OTHER.
WALK OUT ONTO THE SOUTH END OF THE
WALKWAY ALONE AND UNARMED AND WAIT.
signed
BORIS OF VACUL

Peter felt nauseous. “Oh my God!” he cried.

Poor Gwen!
He glanced at the bloody wreck hanging from the tree and shuddered. The note was passed to the others. Sir Miles and Frank both went forward to look at the body and to check that he really was dead. Joy and Old Ned joined Peter and were shown the note.

Frank and Sir Miles walked back both looking anxiously over their shoulders.

Frank said: “Well, that explains how these Devil Worshipper mongrels knew where to search. That is…was… Jack Rossiter. We went to school together. He is… was… a neighbour of mine. We used to come up here pig shooting a few years ago.” A look of anguish crossed his face. “Poor bastard! He didn't know about our hut, so it wouldn't have mattered how much they tortured him, he couldn't tell them.”

A deep, burning rage suddenly gripped Peter. He stood up and aimed the shotgun at Sir Miles. “Give it to me.”

Sir Miles looked at him in shocked disbelief. “What?”

“The Scroll. Give it to me. Gwen's life is more important than any bloody religious document,” Peter grated.

Graham spoke from beside him. “Give Peter the Scroll.”

Something in Graham's voice made Peter glance at him. He was also pointing his rifle at Sir Miles and it was obvious he was in deadly earnest.

Sir Miles suddenly smiled and held out the bag. “Of course. I agree with you. Here.”

Peter took the bag and lowered the shotgun. He shuddered. “Sorry. I'm a bit overwrought.”

Sir Miles nodded. “That's alright. We all are,” he replied.

“What do we do now?” Frank asked.

Peter faced them. “You people should head down the mountain while it is still light. We are going to rescue Gwen.”

Chapter 31

DUSK AT THE DAM

G
raham turned and started walking into the bush towards the hill. “Come on, let's move. It is less than half an hour to dark.”

Joy hesitated. “But… But what about… about that poor man?”

Peter put his arm around her. “Nothing we can do for him. He is dead. We can't take him with us.”

Sir Miles supported him. “He is better off where he is. The police will be able to find him more easily and the animals won't be able to get at him.”

Animals!
Peter felt sick at the thought.

So did Joy. She retched and he held her till she finished. He had trouble controlling his own stomach.

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.