Graham kept on moving along the creek bed, first at a crawl and then at a crouch. The bed was mostly water-smoothed stones which were very hard on the knees and knuckles. Stephen was glad to be out in the open again and was very relieved to be on the landward side of the highway. After five minutes Graham stood up and walked. The two boys then stumbled and groped their way along, climbing over dead logs and pushing through overhanging branches till they were at least two hundred metres from the highway.
Here Graham found a sandy patch and sat down. “Let’s have a rest,” he said.
“What do we do then?” Stephen asked. He was getting tired of the whole situation, but he was also becoming angry.
“Move to where we can watch the road and try to contact Peter,” Graham replied.
“Do you think Peter will still be looking for us?” Stephen asked. He regretted the question as soon as he asked it as Graham at once snapped back.
“Of course! Pete is a mate. He won’t let us down.”
“What if he doesn’t come along?” Stephen asked.
“We walk to a phone and call him,” Graham replied.
That really roused Stephen. “We need to be very careful doing that,” he replied.
“Walking? Of course,” Graham answered.
“No, using the phone,” Stephen said.
“Why?”
“Don’t you see? How was it that twenty minutes after you rang Peter and asked him to pick us up not one but two cars with men in them turn up?” Stephen replied.
“You think they were listening in, tapping Peter’s telephone?” Graham asked.
Stephen nodded. “Yes. How else could they have known where to come?” he replied.
Graham was silent for a moment. Then he said, “But that’s against the law, and how could they organize it?”
“It’s not against the law for the police,” Stephen answered, “and if that man Jorgenson is Federal Police then he could have arranged it.”
“Jorgenson?” Graham queried.
“The Commonwealth copper who took the papers off me,” Stephen replied.
Graham looked puzzled. “Oh him? But why would you think he was involved?” he asked.
“Because I heard one of those men chasing us say he would contact Jorgenson and let him know what was going on,” Stephen replied. Stephen had been mulling this over for hours now and was very worried. “If they were listening in on Peter’s phone then they must know a lot about us,” he said.
“They must also have a lot of men,” Graham replied. “They would have had to tap my phone, and yours as well.”
“Yes,” Stephen agreed. He was sick with anxiety now.
Graham frowned. “But why would the Federal police care about us?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” Stephen replied. “But I’m going to find out.”
“Is it because of what you’ve got in your pack do you think?” Graham asked.
“Yes,” Stephen replied.
“What is it?” Graham asked.
Stephen shook his head. “I can’t tell you,” he replied.
“Let me see it then,” Graham suggested.
“Can’t. I haven’t got it any more,” Stephen replied.
“What? What the bloody hell? What do you mean?” Graham demanded angrily.
“When I thought we might be caught earlier I hid it,” Stephen replied.
“Bloody hell!” Graham cried. “You hid it in that bloody tangle! I hope you can remember where you hid it.”
“I hope so too!” Stephen replied, not at all sure he could.
Graham chuckled at that and shook his head. “So do we walk to the phone?”
“Which way?”
“We could go along the coast to Ellis Beach. That is only five or ten kilometres,” Graham suggested. By the shaded light of Graham’s torch they studied the map.
“Be hard going,” Stephen pointed out. “If we go along the coast we will have to clamber around all those rocky headlands and the tide might be in, and we would be easy to see on the beaches.”
“It will be daylight soon too,” Graham added, glancing up. He then pointed to the map again. “We could climb up this ridge and find that foot track through to Christmas Pocket. The one we walked along on the ATA Exercise. That would take us through to the Black Mountain Road. I’ll bet they aren’t watching it now. We could get to Kuranda or Oak Forest that way.”
Stephen grimaced at the thought. “I don’t know if I could make that,” he replied. “Let’s wait and see if Peter comes past.”
“Alright. Let’s get in position while it is still dark,” Graham agreed. He put away his torch and folded up his map, placing it back in its plastic bag.
“How do we contact him?” Stephen asked.
“Watch a long stretch of highway and when we see him run out and flag him down,” Graham replied.
“We might be seen,” Stephen said.
“Got a better plan?” Graham asked. He stood up and climbed up out of the creek bed. Stephen groaned and forced himself up. All his muscles had stiffened up again and it was real pain to walk. Luckily the country was flat, open savannah woodland and easy going. Graham continued on southwards for another two hundred metres or so before angling back towards the highway. He then found a clump of bushes which gave a view both ways along a long, straight stretch of highway.
It was just starting to get light as the two settled themselves among the bushes. Stephen sat on his pack and leaned his back against a tree. Even though it was only 5am traffic was already building up, more cars going north than south, a steady stream, with a vehicle every minute or so.
Now Stephen found it very hard to stay awake. He was dimly aware that his eyes felt like gumming shut and that his tongue seemed to be stuck inside his mouth. Some part of his mind told him he was very near the end of his strength.
Suddenly Graham nudged him in the side. “There he is!” he cried.
Stephen forced his eyes open, to realise with a shock that it was now fully light. His gaze followed Graham’s pointed arm. Coming from the north were four vehicles. The second one was a cream coloured car. Behind it was a tourist coach and a white car brought up the rear. “Are you sure?” Stephen croaked, trying to focus blurred vision through dirty glasses.
Before he answered Graham was on his feet and scrambling out from cover. “Yes, come on!” he called.
Stephen got to his feet with an effort that wrenched pains from seemingly every part of his body. His groping hand snatched up his pack and he stumbled through the bushes and long grass. Ahead of him Graham had dashed out onto the highway, one arm waving wildly to attract attention. In his other hand he carried his webbing. He paused for a second to wait for a north bound car to race past, then dashed out to the middle of the road. Stephen staggered over the drainage ditch and followed.
All four vehicles coming south slowed down, the driver of the first vehicle, a tradesman’s light truck loaded with ladders and tools, stared at them curiously. Behind it was the cream car. Stephen stared at it, hoping that Graham hadn’t made a terrible mistake. Then he saw an arm wave from the cream car and it slowed and came to a stop. Close behind it was the large truck and the driver of that slammed on his brakes and hit his horn. The truck also came to a stop. The white car bringing up the rear went to pull out and overtake but suddenly braked as well, narrowly avoiding a collision with the back of the truck.
The sound of a vehicle’s horn warned Stephen just in time. He glanced right and got a terrible shock. A car went flashing past northwards, its driver staring white faced at them. Another car followed. By then Graham had dashed across to Peter’s car. Stephen glanced right and saw another car coming from his right but a hundred metres away. Gripping his pack he also dashed across the road. As he did he noted the white car at the rear again go to pass but have to pull back to avoid a head on collision.
Peter gestured urgently. “Get in! Quick!” he yelled.
Stephen saw Graham dash around in front of th
e car while the passenger door on his side suddenly swung open. Tom was in there and he grabbed at the pack Stephen thrust it at him and he hauled it in. Stephen scrambled in after it and slammed the door, just as the oncoming car went roaring past.
Even as Stephen tried to get seated Peter let in the clutch and started the car moving. Stephen glanced ahead and saw that the tradesman’s truck had begun moving. Behind them the big truck could be heard revving up and moving.
“Boy! Are we glad to see you!” Graham gasped. He was now squirming into a comfortable position in the front seat.
Peter laughed and then said, “Don’t look now but we are still being followed.”
“What do you mean?” Stephen cried. He swivelled his head to peer through the rear window. As he did he struggled to untangle his legs from his pack straps and then to find the seat belt.
“That white car behind the truck,” Peter said.
“Are they the police?” Stephen asked. A sickening sense of shock at having made such a mistake swept through him.
“I don’t know,” Peter replied. “They haven’t introduced themselves.”
“Have they been following you?” Stephen asked.
“Half the night,” Peter replied with a chuckle.
“What happened?” Graham asked.
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Peter replied. By then they had reached the stretch of road past the picnic area at the place where the beach ended and the highway came back to run along just above the sea. Peter kept glancing in his rear vision mirror and Stephen saw that the white car kept edging out to try to pass the truck. However there were just enough cars coming the other way, one every few hundred metres, to make it too dangerous.
As the road began winding around the end of Red Cliff Point there was no safe opportunity for the white car to overtake and on the straight past Ellis Beach the oncoming traffic kept it back. Peter drove as fast as the tradesman’s truck in front. As he did he talked.
“That car, or one like it, began following us last night even before we got to Wangetti Beach. When we reached the zoo we saw another car there and no sign of you. Two men came over and asked us what we were doing. One of them was our friend Robert from up on the mountain.”
“Are you sure?” Stephen asked.
“Of course I am!” Peter replied. “Anyway, I just said we were going for a drive and let in the clutch. We twigged then that they were looking for you. So we drove up and down the road from the picnic area and back to the lookout up on White Cliff Point. The white car followed us and that annoyed me,” Peter explained.
“What did you do?” Graham asked.
Peter glanced in his rear vision mirror before answering. “Drove up and down a few more times to get him annoyed too, and in the hope you would come out, but we saw the spotlights and men searching so I reckoned you would lie low. So we lost them.”
“How?” Stephen asked.
Peter laughed. “Drove north to the Mowbray River and lost him in those farm tracks in at the bottom of the Bump Track. Then we drove back here and parked in a little clearing off the highway, some sort of road works dump with heaps of gravel,” he replied.
“Didn’t they find you?” Graham asked.
Peter shook his head. He glanced in his rear vision mirror again. “No. We had a sleep, then got going a few minutes ago and lo- there you were! Now, what happened to you jokers? You look like you’ve been in the wars.”
“In the bloody wars alright!” Stephen cried.
He left the talking to Graham and sat back to wipe his glasses. Every few seconds he glanced back at the pursuing vehicle. As they raced along the highway his mind worked at top speed. ‘What do we do now?’ he wondered. By this they were climbing up past the end of the beaches at Buchans Point. He said, “The double-lane highway starts soon. How will you stop them catching up then?”
“I don’t know,” Peter said. “We will just have to wait and see.”
“We could just give up,” Graham said. “If they really are the police we could get into trouble.”
“Police,” Peter muttered. “Yes, now there’s an idea. Graham, have you got your camera?”
“Yes, if it still works,” Graham replied.
“Take it out and we will get a photo of these guys. I suspect they won’t like that,” Peter said.
Graham dug into a basic pouch and extracted his camera. It was in a plastic bag and appeared to be dry and undamaged. He passed it to Stephen who turned to watch. As they reached the double-lane highway the white car pulled into the right hand lane and came surging up alongside. As it did Stephen stared hard at the men in it and kept the camera ready but out of sight. Then, as it drew level he raised the camera and aimed it. He saw a look of surprise on the man’s face as he saw it. Too late the man put his hand up. Stephen clicked the photo.
The man turned and spoke to the driver and the car suddenly slowed and fell behind. Stephen saw the passenger reach into his suit and pull out something black. For an instant he thought it might be a gun. Fearing a gangster style shooting he tensed. But the man had a mobile phone. Feeling very relieved, not least that he hadn’t called a panicky warning to the others, Stephen sat back and sighed.
By then they were approaching the first large roundabout on the highway. An impish idea came to him. “Pete, drive around the roundabout.”
Peter chuckled and changed lanes, then went right. The white car followed them. As they came back around to where they had come into the roundabout Stephen said, “Go round again.” He turned to watch and noted the sour down-turned mouth of the passenger in the other car.
Graham chuckled. “They are getting a bit pissed off,” he commented.
“Good! Because they have given us a hard time all bloody night!” Stephen snapped.
This time they went on towards Cairns and the white car followed, only further behind. Stephen checked his watch. 0600. “My Oldies are going to ground me for life after this,” he said miserably.
“No they won’t,” Peter replied. “They don’t know anything about it. I rang them last night and told them we had broken down and would camp rather than drive along a rough bush track in the dark. I assured them we were fine. They aren’t expecting you till breakfast time.”
“Breakfast!” Graham cried. “That’s a good idea. Strewth I’m hungry!”
They sped on along the highway through more roundabouts. As they approached the roundabout at Smithfield where the Kuranda Range Road went off Stephen had an idea. He explained it to Peter who chuckled. The plan worked. They went right around the roundabout, then left along the road towards Kuranda for 200 metres, before slowing and turning into the car park of the large shopping complex there. The white car followed them in. Peter turned right around the rear of the Drive-in bottle shop, then right again towards the main car park. At that moment the white car was hidden from sight behind the first building so Peter swung hard right, then left and went back out onto the highway.
They had turned left towards Cairns and were accelerating before Stephen saw the white car stopping, then swinging round in the car park on the other side of the garden beds. The driver’s mouth indicated swearing and the sight made Stephen laugh. The man saw him and scowled. “They aren’t happy with us,” he commented.
“They’ll be even less happy in a minute,” Peter said. He did not explain but drove fast back to the roundabout, then right around it. There was just enough traffic to allow them in but also to confuse. His timing was excellent. While the white car was hidden behind the flower beds in the roundabout Peter suddenly slowed and swung left into a Shell Roadhouse. He skidded to a stop behind the building.
“They’ll soon find us,” Graham said.
“Not soon enough I hope,” Peter said. He switched off and jumped out. “Get some food while I call the cops,” he said.
“But these are the cops!” Stephen called as he opened his door and climbed out to follow.
“These aren’t Queensland state cops, the
y are Federal,” Peter replied. “We will sow a bit of inter-departmental confusion.”
So saying he ran to a public phone on the wall and picked up the handset. Stephen stood watching. Graham and Tom also climbed out.
Graham turned to Tom. “You got any money?” he asked.
“A bit,” Tom replied.
“Then go in and buy us each a hamburger or something. I don’t think we are suitably dressed for going into a restaurant.”
Stephen knew what he meant. ‘If I look like Graham I must look a wreck,’ he thought. Graham’s clothes were smeared in dry mud and had numerous tears and rips. His skin was filthy and covered with cuts and scratches.
Tom nodded and went through a side door into the restaurant. As he did Stephen saw the white car come screeching in off the highway. It skidded to a stop just behind their car and the two very angry looking men in suits got out. They advanced threateningly towards them. Stephen felt sick with fear as he noted the hostile faces.
“What are you bloody kids playing at?” snarled one of the men.
Graham stared defiantly back. “Minding our own business,” he said.
“Give it to us,” the second man snapped.
Stephen bristled at that. “Give what to you? Who are you?” he replied, amazed at his own boldness.
“Commonwealth Police. Now hand over the pack,” ordered the second man.
Stephen shook his head. “I don’t believe you. My mother said not to talk to strangers. Do you go around picking up boys?” he replied.
A dangerous glint came into the man’s eye and he mouthed an obscenity under his breath, then reached into his jacket and pulled out a leather wallet with a badge in it. Stephen noted that the man was perspiring heavily and that cheered him up. He said, “You look hot. Why don’t you wear clothes to suit the climate?”
“Shut up kid! We ask the questions. Where is the pack?”
“Hang on! I haven’t had a chance to look at that badge yet. It might be a fake,” Stephen replied, reaching for the wallet. The man swore and stepped back.
The second man had moved to look into the car. He reached in. “Here it is,” he said, pulling Stephen’s pack out.
Secret in the Clouds Page 21
