Secret in the Clouds

by Christopher Cummings

  The approach march developed into a sweaty plod. For the next two hours they trudged northwards with the creek on their right and the low, stony hills on their left. A few cattle were seen but no sign of human settlement until they came to a vehicle track at 0935. Several rain showers drenched and cooled them but then the clouds cleared away and left a clear sky from which the sun blazed down with vicious intensity. Waterbottles were refilled from a small creek which had a clear flow. Stephen thankfully rinsed the salt from his face as it really stung when it trickled into his eyes. He noted that Tom had become very red in the face and looked very tired.

  Graham noticed it too. “You OK Tom?” he asked.

  “Yeah, just fagged out,” Tom replied, trying to grin.

  ‘That’s because you are fag!’ Stephen thought unkindly. Tom’s success with Judy still rankled and he had not come to like him.

  Peter pointed to the two wheel tracks. “Do we follow these?”

  “May as well,” Graham replied. “They don’t look as though anyone has driven along them for some time.”

  Walking along the wheel ruts was easier as the grass in this area was quite long. It became even longer as they went down across a large, swampy flat. Surface water now filled the ruts and in places they had to wade almost knee deep. Twice Graham cried out in fright and sprang back but Stephen did not see either of the snakes which had caused this alarm. Anxiety over snake bites returned and added to the feeling of mounting apprehension which was now gripping his guts.

  The country over to the right became a huge swamp covered with tall reeds and clumps of tall grass. “Green Swamp,” Graham commented as he consulted his map. “About two kilometres to go.”

  That was both good and bad news to Stephen. He found he was so anxious he was almost hyperventilating. ‘If they committed two murders they will kill again to cover them up,’ he thought. He knew he had no real proof for this supposition but that did not stop his mind dwelling on the possibility, and on what death might be like.

  A ridge now blocked off the valley to the north. The creek and swamp curved left. The swamp became a lily-dotted lake with hundreds of paperbark trees growing in the water. The track they were following was forced up onto the low hills on their left. There was an abrupt change of vegetation. This area had also been burnt off. Only a few tiny shoots of green showed on the bare sandy soil. It made for easy walking but there was not much cover.

  For that reason Graham slowed as they approached the wide, gentle crest of the hill. Then he pointed and turned right. Stephen had a glimpse of buildings about a kilometre away. Graham pointed to their right. “We should get a better OP from among the rocks on that other ridge over there.”

  Stephen looked and knew what Graham meant. The ridge they were crossing was flat and open and, apart from the scattered trees, was devoid of cover. ‘People at those buildings might spot us if we walk along here,’ he thought. However the next ridge had more trees and also numerous rocky outcrops. From his experience on cadet exercises Stephen knew these would give good cover from which they could observe their ‘objective’.

  To get to it Graham first led them back into ‘dead ground’ below the swell of the rise and then they had to walk along beside the swampy lake. As they got closer to the end of the lake Stephen saw that the two ridges almost met and that an earth dam was ponding the creek to form the lake. On their side of the creek was what looked like an old gravel pit: mounds of earth, old vehicle tracks and the scars where machines had gouged out the soil, exposing reddish clay and patches of grey rock.

  Graham led the way down across the old gravel scrape, taking care to follow a route which was below the crest of the ridge. The mounds and hollows gave good cover, added to by a scattering of thorn bushes. The area had obviously provided the material for the dam which Stephen now saw was washed out in places and covered with grass and weeds on its top and downstream face.

  The gravel scrape extended below the dam, ending on a steep slope which led down to the bed of the creek. Below the dam the creek was similar to what they had followed earlier: an almost dry, rocky bed with sandy patches, trees growing in and beside it. At this point the two ridges came close together and outcrops of black rock made the sides quite steep.

  As they began to climb down past a small washout towards the creek bed Stephen stepped around a piece of rusty metal. His eyes noted another piece wrapped around a tree trunk just downstream. Part of his mind registered the fact that it was the door of a vehicle but seeing odd bits of machinery in an old gravel scrape was so typical that he did not give it another thought until Tom called out, “Hey, look at this!”

  Stephen turned to look. He saw that Tom was pointing to some rusty old car parts which were lying half buried in the washout just next to the dam wall. “So what?” he replied. He was now hot and tired and just wanted to get to their objective. He had often seen old car bodies dumped in gullies to try to slow erosion.

  “This is the front end of a Ford,” Tom replied. He then pointed to the piece of rusty steel that Stephen had stepped around. He now saw that it was the bonnet of a car or truck. Suddenly images from history books flashed into his mind and he experienced a surge of emotion which sent ice shivering up the nape of his neck.

  Both Graham and Peter came back up the slope to look. Tom pointed to the half buried vehicle. It was mostly just brown rust flakes and full of holes but the shape was still clear. “Those headlights,” Tom said. “They are the type that they had back in the nineteen forties.”

  Stephen experienced another wave of chill. He could see what Tom meant. The glass of the headlights was broken and dirty but the holders were of the type that were attached to the top of the mudguards beside the engine cover. Then he realised what he was looking at. “This car, it wasn’t just dumped here,” he said. “It was deliberately buried when they built the dam.”

  Peter turned to Tom “Do you think this is your grandfather’s truck?” he asked.

  Tom nodded, biting his lip and looking very strained. “I reckon it might be. He had a One Ton Ford. This looks like one.”

  “We can’t be sure though,” Graham replied.

  Peter bent down and studied the wreck. “Steve’s right though. This truck wasn’t dumped. It was buried.”

  Stephen looked around and could now see how the rain run-off over the years had washed out part of the dam wall, then scoured through what must once have been a small gully. The wreck was still mostly embedded in the earth.

  “The cunning bastards!” Graham cried. “No-one would look for a missing truck inside an earth dam.”

  “And they had a bulldozer to do it with,” Tom added.

  A ghastly thought had occurred to Stephen. “Do you...do you think..?” He couldn’t say it. Fear now all but swamped him.

  “That the remains of my grandad and his driver might be in there?” Tom said, finishing the question for him.

  It was an appalling thought and the boys stood and stared at the wreck in mounting alarm. Stephen had no desire to dig up another skeleton but that was plainly what they had to do. Peter thought so too. “It is the only way we can be sure,” he said.

  Tom agreed. “At the very least we might find an engine or chassis number that can be used to identify the vehicle.”

  “Oh fair go!” Graham scoffed. “They wouldn’t have that sort of information filed away after all these years.”

  “Major Barnes said he had a copy of his Investigation,” Tom replied. “That included those sort of details. Anyway, I’ll bet the manufacturer would still have the records.”

  “So we dig up this wreck?” Graham asked, clearly not relishing the task.

  Tom nodded. “I think we have to.”

  They stood and considered this, all obviously hoping they would be spared the labour and possible upset. “We need shovels and tools,” Peter said.

  “We can get them from the homestead,” Graham suggested.

  Stephen gave a sneering laugh. “Oh sure! Just wand
er over and say; ‘can we borrow a shovel to dig up the bodies of those blokes you murdered? Just to check, you know?’.”

  Graham looked annoyed. “We can sneak in and borrow them,” he said.

  “Stop bickering you two,” Peter snapped. “Let’s have a look around first.”

  Stephen realised Tom was swaying. His face looked pasty and almost green. “You OK Tom?”

  Tom nodded but then bent over and vomited. As he straightened up he muttered, “Just the heat. I’m not used to trudging around the bush like you blokes.”

  “Go and wash your face and sit in the shade,” Peter said, pointing down to the creek bed. “We will just have a look around.”

  “Come on,” Stephen said, grabbing Tom’s sleeve. He helped him down to the creek bed where he washed his own face while Tom rinsed his mouth. He then helped Tom over to the shade of a large tree. No sooner had he settled Tom against the trunk of the tree than he heard a man’s voice call out.

  “Hey, you two! Stop there and put your hands up!” the man called. Stephen looked up in alarm and saw two men in stockman’s clothes, both with rifles. They were pointing these at Graham and Peter who stood open mouthed at the old truck.

  CHAPTER 30

  ‘HAYDEN PARK’

  For an instant Stephen froze. Fear seared through him as he noted the hard looks on the men’s faces and the rifles levelled at Peter and Graham. Then he moved quickly behind the tree and crouched down, placing his fingers to his lips as he did. Tom gaped at him in surprise and twisted to look around the tree to see what was happening. Stephen used his left hand to press Tom back against the trunk. He shook his head and saw his own fear communicate itself to Tom.

  There was a small bush which gave Stephen some cover and allowed him to peek around the tree in some safety but he was very aware that Tom’s legs and boots were sticking out. As he glanced around to see if there was any better cover his mind raced with questions: Where had the men come from? Had they seen them and set a trap? How could they escape?

  The men were dressed as stockmen in soiled grey and denim work clothes. Both wore riding boots and battered old felt hats. One, the older one who looked to be middle-aged, said to Peter and Graham, “Who are you kids? What are you doing here?”

  “Just bushwalking,” Peter replied. Stephen could see his face and it looked very anxious. He could not see Graham’s, but both had their hands up.

  “Bull!” the older man rapped. “You are trespassing. What are your names?”

  “We didn’t know that,” Graham said. “We walked in over some hills and we didn’t see a fence or any signs.”

  “I asked what your names were,” the older man replied. He sounded angry and Stephen shivered with apprehension.

  Peter and Graham gave their names. The older man then asked, “Are there any more of you?”

  Peter shook his head. “No, only two of us.”

  The younger man, a thin, fair-haired youth said, “Just as well we came to check when we did eh? I wonder how the boss knew?”

  “Shut up Hans. Just search them,” the older man ordered. He moved the rifle threateningly. “Don’t you kids try anything stupid. Drop those packs and empty your pockets.”

  Having no option Graham and Peter did so. Stephen saw Graham glancing around. ‘I hope he doesn’t try anything foolish,’ he thought. Graham was quite likely to act the hero and try to grab one of the guns.

  The older man told Graham and Peter to move further away from their gear. As they did he glanced around and for a moment he seemed to stare straight at Stephen. Stephen froze and felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He was aware that he was breathing very fast and that he felt so scared he was dizzy. Beside him Tom looked very pale and anxious. Beads of sweat were standing out on his face and trickling down it.

  Then the man looked away and kept covering Peter and Graham as Hans quickly frisked them. Hans then picked up the map and notebook Graham had been carrying. He flicked through the pages. “The name matches,” he said.

  The older man gestured with his head. “Go and call George and tell him what we found,” he ordered.

  “Righto Theo,” Hans replied. He hurried off out of sight across the gravel pit.

  Stephen was now so anxious he was almost in a fluster. ‘We must get away from here,’ he thought. His racing mind told him that the longer they waited the more likely they were to be caught. It was clear that the men had not seen all four of them. ‘But he will find out there should be more when he calls his boss,’ he reasoned. But was it possible to get away unseen? He looked around. The older man was standing with his back to him but all he had to do was glance over his shoulder and any movement in the creek bed would be spotted.

  ‘If we go over close under the bank we might do it,’ he thought, studying the ground with a trained eye. By now his heart was hammering so fast he had to gulp in great breaths of air. ‘It’s now or never,’ he told himself.

  With a nod and a gesture to Tom Stephen stood up and walked quickly across the sandy bed to the base of the steep slope. His real fear was the sound as he had to step on rocks and dry grass. However his rubber-soled boots made no sound. Here a rocky outcrop gave some cover. He crouched, heart thudding rapidly and looked back. Tom came scuttling across to join him, his eyes switching continually to the man as he did.

  Stephen shook his head angrily. ‘Don’t go fast,’ he hissed in Tom’s ear as he pulled him under cover. A quick check showed the man still facing away but Stephen noted Graham’s eyes flick to meet his, then back again. ‘Graham has seen us,’ he thought. Suddenly Graham lowered his hands and rubbed at his face.

  “Keep your hands up!” Theo snarled.

  “I think I’m going to faint,” Graham replied, staggering slightly as he did. “It’s the heat. Can I have a drink?”

  ‘He’s playacting,’ Stephen thought, ‘to give us a chance to get away.’ He gestured to Tom and began moving along the bed of the creek at a crouch, keeping hard against the steep bank. Behind him he heard Theo order Graham to get back, then to sit down but to put his hands on his head. ‘If he knew his job he would have had them sitting earlier,’ Stephen thought. The man had obviously never been trained to control prisoners.

  With constant glances over his shoulder Stephen kept moving at a slow walk. The bank hid them most of the time and the only real problem was that loose rocks had collected at the base of the slope and sometimes moved when they stood on them, clinking as they did. Within a couple of minutes he and Tom were fifty metres down the creek and able to slip over a rock bar and into the cover of large boulders and trees which choked the creek bed at that point.

  They paused there. Stephen wiped perspiration from his face and then cleaned his glasses before carefully looking back up the creek through a stack of flood debris. What he saw simultaneously dismayed and heartened him. He got a brief glimpse of Graham and Peter walking up the gravel pit with their hands up, followed soon after by the two men. ‘We are safe for the moment!’ he thought with relief. Then he felt guilty at being so selfish. ‘But they’ve got Graham and Peter.’

  Satisfied that the men could not see into the creek bed Stephen stood up and continued on downstream. He wanted to get well away from the area before the men learned there were more and came back to look. For that reason he avoided areas of sand and twice had to snap at Tom for walking on places which left clear boot prints. Tom looked suitably chastened and helped wipe the tracks out before they continued.

  A vehicle was heard starting up but they did not see it until it was well away from the hills. A brown Landcruiser drove across a gap in the trees half a kilometre away, heading in the direction of the homestead. Stephen now felt the lack of the map. He tried to picture in his mind, then shook his head irritably and decided to continue with the original plan of going up onto the rocky spur on their right. He turned and began climbing up a rocky gully.

  “Where are we going?” Tom asked as he followed.

  “Up here to c
heck out the lie of the land,” Stephen replied.

  “Where do you think those men have taken them?” Tom asked.

  “To the homestead I suppose,” Stephen replied. He was sweating profusely now and found he was gasping for breath and shaking as the reaction set in.

  “What do you think they will do to them?” Tom asked.

  Stephen had some very grim ideas about that but just said, “Question them I suppose.” He was feeling sick at heart at how their plan had turned into disaster so quickly. He was also torn by the dilemma of what to do: go and report to the authorities? Or to try to rescue Graham and Peter?

  Five minutes climb had Stephen and Tom seated on their packs among a clump of large rocks among which grew stunted bushes. As Stephen had hoped they were able to get a good view. For a minute he just sat and recovered. Then he had a big drink before systematically studying the country. Tom sat beside him looking hot and anxious.

  The first thing that Stephen noted was the homestead. This was actually a cluster of buildings and looked more like a small town. The next thing that caught his eye was the glitter of sunlight on water. A few hundred metres from the homestead was a large sheet of water; a lagoon lined with trees and reeds. This extended off to the north for at least a kilometre. ‘Pink Lilly Lagoon,’ he told himself. Because it was the probable landing place of the floatplane he stared at it with fascination, half expecting to see a dark green floatplane with black crosses on it floating there.

  Stephen then looked out across the tree tops to study the general pattern of the valley. He saw that beyond the homestead, just visible in places through the vegetation, was a large clearing. This extended for at least a couple of kilometres in both directions, ending to the west on the lower slopes of the mountain wall which formed that side of the valley. From this angle the steep, rugged slopes of the Hodgekinson Range looked even more forbidding than before. Several quite large creek lines led out of steep re-entrants in the escarpment. One of these came in from the left to join a line of trees which Stephen surmised was Gap Creek. This supposition was strengthened by noting a dirt road crossing a low rise just beyond it.