Herberton Range, Peter told himself.
The old road plunged into rainforest. This overhung the road but was still easy to push through.
“Snake!” Graham warned. He pointed to a python about two metres long which slid out of a patch of sunlight and over the bank.
Sir Miles stared at it, his eyes wide. “Is it dangerous?” he asked anxiously.
Graham shook his head. “No, only to mice. It’s only a python,” he replied. He pushed on through the foliage overhanging the track even before the snake had slid off the road. Peter watched it go, then followed Graham. Once again he allowed Graham to get ahead, glad that he was doing the scouting. It made him feel much safer; and that meant Joy was also safer. Thinking that he glanced back as he held a branch aside for her. Their eyes met and she smiled.
I am in love! he decided. Somehow it made things seem easier, less effort, and the sun seemed to shine brighter, even in the gloom of the jungle.
The road went gently uphill, curved right, then around to the left. It then went along almost level for a few hundred metres. Several times Peter had to warn Joy and the others to avoid the wait-a-while tendrils hanging down across the road. The road curved downhill to the right and ended at a clearing beside a creek.
Graham was waiting there. He pointed to a tangle of weed and wait-a-while. “The road has been washed out. It is all overgrown. And watch that plant there Sir Miles.”
“Which plant? Ow!” Sir Miles let out a yelp and stepped quickly back.
“That plant,” Graham said dryly. “It is a stinging tree.”
Sir Miles wasn’t amused. “So I see.” His eyes watered with the pain. “How bad does it get?”
Graham shrugged. “Depends. Some people are very allergic to it and get very sick. I’ve even read about people getting bad stings and dying. Other people are hardly bothered by it.”
“Is this a bad sting?” Sir Miles asked, trying to appear calm.
Graham glanced at it and shook his head. “Trivia. Shouldn’t bother you, unless you are particularly sensitive. You will feel it for months though, every time you get it wet. The water makes the little poison prickles react.”
“Thanks very much! What an unpleasant place,” Sir Miles commented.
Peter wasn’t amused either. Graham is just showing off, he thought.
“Well, what do we do now?” he asked.
“Cut our way through if we have to,” Graham replied. “It shouldn’t be too bad. It will be quicker than going back.”
Peter felt uneasy about this but accepted Graham’s judgement. Both of them had explored similar old timber roads before and he knew pretty much what to expect.
It turned out to be much like he thought it would. The first few hundred metres were the worst with a patch of wild raspberry blocking the old road where the sunlight had been able to get through. Most of the rest was fairly easy going. Between the lack of sunlight from the overhanging foliage and the hardness of the road surface from all the compaction over the years most of the old road was fairly clear. There was a thick matt of leaf litter and lots of deadfall but the weeds and shrubs were no obstacle. Most of the time they could just push through them. From time to time they had to snip a vine or tendril that they could not easily walk around.
For much of the time they could walk at almost normal pace, stopping frequently to allow Old Ned to get his breath back. “Don’t want the old bugger to have a heart attack on us!” Graham whispered at one rest stop.
The novelty of the rainforest quickly palled. Sir Miles grumbled that he was an ardent supporter of the ‘Save the Rainforest’ lobby groups, but now he wasn’t so sure. “You can have too much of a good thing,” he muttered.
Peter and Graham both laughed. They had been exploring the rainforest for years on weekend expeditions and felt quite at home. In fact Peter was feeling more and more confident at every stop.
Soon be in country we know, he thought.
The old road went up around the side of a mountain at a steady climb which kept them puffing and perspiring. At no stage did they get a glimpse out through the thick tangle of vegetation to get any sort of view. The mountain had a relatively flat top which prevented any spectacular views. 1400 hours had them near the crest and avoiding another python which had been sunning itself at an overgrown junction. 1500 hours found them descending the side of a feature that was marked as 1220 metres on the map.
Going down was a relief but it seemed to go on for ever. Graham strode on just in sight ahead. He had no fear of ambush as it was obvious no other human had been along the old road in months. Peter kept looking back to check on Joy.
She returned his looks with smiles and that helped him to find the energy to go on.
They came abruptly to another road junction. The road they were following joined it as a T-junction. The other road was also disused but less overgrown. Graham was waiting, crouched behind a tree at the junction.
Peter joined him and peered both ways. “Everything OK?” he asked.
Graham shook his head and pointed to the mud under the trees nearby. Peter moved to look and felt his heart skip a beat, then seem to stand still. Scratched in the mud by a stick was a pattern: some sort of Star of David design with horns and snakes around it.
“Devil Worshippers!” Peter breathed. He looked hurriedly round. The rainforest suddenly seemed darker, more threatening.
Joy wanted to know what Peter could see and let out a gasp of dismay when shown the design. Sir Miles looked grim and confirmed it was a Devil Worshipper symbol.
Joy was horrified. “Does it mean they are watching us and warning us not to go on?” she asked. She appeared very frightened and her eyes flitted back and forth as she too searched the surrounding shadows.
Sir Miles shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I think it is a sign to say they have been this way; to tell other Devil Worshippers.”
“More of them!” Joy cried in obvious fright.
Peter wanted to reassure her but decided the truth was needed. “There were more than six captured by the time we got to Danbulla; and some had different numbers, so they obviously came from other groups. I suppose our good friend the Black Monk has called in reinforcements.”
“Do you think he is here somewhere?” Joy asked.
Peter felt his stomach contract and turn over. He nodded. “Sure to be. If this is where the Scroll is then he must be expected to still be looking for it too.”
“But how would he know where to come?” Joy asked.
Peter shrugged. “I guess there are other people who are friends of Mr Connolly and who have an idea where he used to go camping.” He looked at Old Ned who nodded. Peter was appalled at the change in the old man. He now looked pasty faced and somehow shrivelled, as though the walk over the mountain, and the knowledge of Devil Worshippers, had drained him of his vitality.
Joy suddenly seized Peter’s arm, her eyes alight. “That means that Gwen might be here somewhere.”
“Yes it does,” Peter agreed. Inside he felt like lead, not wanting to think about what the Black Monk might have done to Gwen to make her talk.
It would have to be some revolting torture, he thought. Gwen wouldn’t talk otherwise.
“What do we do now?” Joy asked.
“Find Frank and the Scroll,” Peter replied. A burning determination to see this thing through seemed to seize him. He turned to Old Ned. “Which way?”
Ned shook his head and looked around. “Not sure. Which way is the New Dam?”
Graham pointed left. “That way. I know roughly where I am now. We came here on that signals exercise remember Pete?”
“Yes I do, except my patrol didn’t come this way. Come on, let’s get out of this bloody rainforest before it gets dark.”
The last comment had been made because the rainforest seemed very gloomy.
A check of his watch showed Peter it was nearly 1600.
Only two hours to dark, he thought.
Graham moved over
to the Devil Worshipper’s sign and studied the ground. He was careful to keep off the mud and warned the others to do likewise. “I can only see one set of tracks and they turn and go back,” he said.
That was something at least. At Peter’s nod Graham set off along the new track. It was much more open and even easier walking as it was mostly fairly level. There were a few muddy patches they had to avoid but the rest was a clear avenue under the overhanging trees. For a while the undergrowth became quite sparse, true rainforest.
The old road wound up and down and curved to the right and left with long straights of a hundred paces or so. Peter thought he recognized some sections from their previous expedition but wasn’t sure.
Graham will know, he comforted himself, knowing his friend had a quite phenomenal memory for such things.
Once again it became an endurance test. The road just seemed to go on and on. In his mind Peter knew it was only a kilometre or so to the open forest again but his body felt so worn and tired that it was an effort to keep going. He saw that Joy was grimly plodding in his footsteps and that increased his admiration even more.
She’s got guts! he thought.
Even the fear of the Black Monk lurking somewhere seemed to recede as the sheer physical exertion wore them down.
The track curved right and went up over a low ridge, then curved left again and went along a long, gloomy straight. Several rotting logs lay across the road, some with wait-a-while vines tangled around them. Twice thin young tendrils, so thin as to be almost invisible, snagged Peter’s face, causing it to sting and bleed. He was at least able to warn Joy and the others.
From time to time he caught glimpses of Graham flitting along in the shadows ahead of him. Time seemed to fly by.
It will be dark soon! I wonder if Steve and Megan have contacted the police yet?
Joy was still listening to the radio. She said: “At least we have escaped from those Mississippi Confederates.”
“Don’t be too sure,” Peter replied.
“I haven’t heard them since we came over the top of the mountain,” she said.
“Screening,” Peter replied. “The mountain is blocking the radio waves.”
“That is good news isn’t it? It means there are none on this side of the mountain,” Joy replied.
Peter opened his mouth to reply but at that moment Graham suddenly went into a crouch behind a tree at the next bend. Peter felt his heart skip and he walked forward to join him, dreading what he might be told.
Graham knelt behind a tree with the rifle in his shoulder. He turned his head to speak as Peter walked up to join him.
“I thought I saw the Black Monk ahead of us then,” he said.
Peter felt his stomach turn over. “Oh no!” he groaned.
Graham went on: “I’m not sure. It was just a fleeting glimpse. But it looked like a person in a black cloak.”
“Did he see you?” Peter asked.
“Don’t think so. Unless he is deliberately keeping ahead of us,” Graham said. Then he shrugged. “I may be wrong. It was just a flicker of black movement in the shadows.”
Peter bit his lip, knowing that the last part was for Joy’s benefit. If Graham says he saw the Black Monk then he saw him alright! he thought.
“What do you think we should do?” he asked.
“Push on fast. If he is trying to set us up for an ambush that will prevent him doing it properly. He won’t have time.”
“Ambush!” Old Ned gasped. His face went even paler.
Sir Miles looked even grimmer. “We could always turn around and go back. The Scroll is not so important that we need to risk our lives.”
Graham shook his head. “You can go back over that bloody mountain but I’m not going to. I’m going to find Gwen; and if that bastard in the black robes has hurt her then he is going to regret it.”
The statement was made with such fierce passion that even Peter was shocked.
I didn’t think old Graham cared that much about her!
Hiding his thoughts, he said: “I’m not going back either. We have to RV with Steve and Megan. We don’t want them to walk into a trap.”
Joy smiled unexpectedly. “I’m going on too. Besides, we are between the Devil and the deep blue sea again. If we go back over the mountain we will just run into those right wing gun nuts from Mississippi.”
Peter had to smile with her, desperate as the situation looked. “We can always just walk through the jungle and down the mountain if we want to get away,” he said. “We’ve done that before on the next mountain, not far from here. So let’s keep going.”
Chapter 30
THE DEVIL’S WORK
Graham stood up and strode on along the old road, rifle at the ready. He went so fast he was almost trotting.
Joy shook her head. “Oh! He must be careful!” she gasped.
“He knows what he is doing,” Peter replied. “He is right. If we go fast the Black Monk won’t have time to set any proper ambush, even if he knows we are following him. Come on, let’s go.”
Peter set off after Graham, followed by the others. He now put his secateurs away and took out the Beretta, just in case. It took a lot of willpower to walk fast like that, but he forced himself to do it. All the while his stomach churned with fear and he felt like throwing up.
The road went up over another low rise and curved left around the side of a gentle hill. They crossed the head of a small creek. In the mud there Peter clearly saw three sets of boot prints. One set was Graham’s. The others went both ways.
Smooth soles. Not army boots, he noted. His stomach turned over with apprehension. Someone was definitely ahead of them.
The road curved back to the right and all of a sudden there were glimpses of a grassy ridge out to the left through gaps in the foliage.
Thank God! At last! Open country, Peter thought.
The road went downhill for a hundred metres just inside the jungle then abruptly went out into open country through a ‘tunnel’ in the trees. Graham was waiting just inside the jungle. The others joined him and crouched under cover to look.
Graham checked his map and then nodded. “This looks like the place where Tina found those blokes trapping cockatoos with mist nets two years ago.”
Stephen joined them, blinking through glasses that were fogged up with condensation. He looked out and nodded. “It certainly fits her description,” he agreed. “At that road junction just over there,” he added, pointing to where another vehicle track came down over the grassy ridge ahead to join their road fifty paces ahead.
Peter had not been in the same patrol but knew the storey of how Tina Babcock had been chased by the men and had met up with the patrol with Graham and Stephen in it. He looked out and noted some white cockatoo feathers on the grass. “Looks like there are plenty of cockatoos here,” he commented.
Old Ned stared hard and then said: “This is ‘Cockatoo’.”
“You are sure?” Sir Miles asked.
Old Ned nodded. “Yep. It’s a few years since I was last here, but this is the place.”
“Is this where we were to meet Frank Connolly?” Sir Miles asked.
“Yep. When his house was broken into and he was threatened he brought a supply of food up here, then contacted me with instructions, then he went into hiding,” Old Ned replied.
Peter looked around. “So let’s find him and get down off this mountain,” he said impatiently. “If we move we can reach Herberton by dark. It is only about ten kilometres.”
“Not so fast young fella. I gotta make contact with him first,” Old Ned replied.
“Then let’s do it!” Peter said. He was feeling intense emotions, not least of which was curiosity to see the Scroll.
Old Ned shook his head. “I’ll have to go alone. If Frank sees a whole mob of us he might bolt and then we’ll never find him. You people wait here. I’ll go and see if he is in his hut.”
“Hut!” Joy said. “This is a World Heritage area isn’t it?”
Old Ned just gave her a pitying look. “Listen girlie, since they stopped the timber cutters and forestry people from working in these mountains they have been left unpoliced, so all the druggies, animal poachers and crooks have had a field day.”
“And the orchid gatherers too!” Graham said, tongue in cheek.
Old Ned snorted and scowled at him, then said: “Just you wait here.”
He walked out into the open country and turned left up the vehicle track which went up over the low grassy ridge ahead of them. It wasn’t a big ridge, only a hundred metres away and ten metres high, but it ran off to the right and left as far as they could see. The country was open forest again: waist high grass and ferns amid a vast stand of magnificent tall trees.
Peter had a long drink and quietly reminisced with Graham about their previous adventure back when they were corporals.
“What were you doing here?” Joy asked.
“The Navy Cadets were doing a signals exercise; to see how far they could send messages with equipment like torches and small radios. They used semaphore and signal lamps at night as well as VHF radios,” Peter explained.
“So what were you doing there?” Joy queried.
“The Air Cadets were doing a Recruit Bivouac to teach new cadets living in the field and basic fieldcraft and to give their older cadets something to do they challenged the Army Cadets to a fieldcraft exercise. We had to try to sneak in to the signal stations and they became the guards and patrols to stop us.”
Joy grinned. “And that was when Graham snuck in and kissed this Navy Cadet girl, Tina whatever?”
Graham blushed but grinned. Peter nodded. “So I’m told.”
“Did the Navy Cadets find out?” Joy asked.
Stephen nodded and smirked. “Yes they did. While Graham kept Tina busy we snuck in and taped a note to their signal lamp. When they found it she was questioned and she got into trouble because she had army camouflage cream smudged onto her face,” he explained.
“Oh, poor girl!” Joy said, shaking her had in sympathy but smiling.
Graham snorted. “Lucky girl you mean!” he said.
“Why?” Joy asked.
“Because she got to get kissed,” Graham answered.
The Word of God Page 36
