Free The Word of God by Christopher Cummings Page A

slowly moving snake. Peter was fascinated by the sinuous winding of its body. It seemed to flow along the ground like liquid evil. The thought made him shiver and he felt an intense urge to peer into the dark bush beside the track. So strong was this feeling that he briefly shone his torch in among the trees and bushes bordering the track, half fearing to see one of the Devil Worshipers.
    At length Capt Conkey lost patience. “Oh stupid snake! Get out of our way!” He used Peter’s staff to flick it into the long grass beside the track. It landed and lay motionless, then slid languidly out of sight. The party hurried past, their torches directed at the spot where it was last seen.
    The weary downward trudge resumed, each step seeming harder than the last. Peter knew he was tiring and that worried him.
    I am used to this sort of thing. So if I feel had it then Joy and Megan must be exhausted , he thought.
    The track wound on down. Once they lost it for a few minutes but Capt Conkey told them to wait and backtracked fifty paces to pick it up again. Peter’s rational mind told him they were making steady progress but he was now so tired that his eyes were starting to lose focus at times. He rubbed them and licked dry lips.
    â€œHow much further?” Megan bleated.
    Peter answered. “Not far now. We are on the last part of the ridge.”
    The last few hundred metres seemed to be the worst. There were several steep rocky sections which had to be carefully negotiated, their hot and strained muscles and ligaments complaining at every step. Changes in the vegetation, and the angle at which the sugar mill’s lights were visible through the trees provided Peter with clues to their progress.
    After another ten minutes slow progress Capt Conkey stopped at the bottom of another steep section to wait for the tail of the line to catch up. Peter lowered himself onto a rock with a sigh and wiped perspiration from his face. His shirt was soaked and he was shivering from the strain.
    As he sat there he saw the flicker of vehicle headlights through the trees below and to his left. Two vehicles came around the cane headland and stopped below them. The sound of slamming doors and voices floated up to them.
    â€œNot far now,” he commented.
    Capt Conkey agreed. “No. The tail has caught up so let’s get it over with,” he said.
    With a groan Peter hoisted himself to his feet and switched on his torch. As he did a powerful spotlight shone up the slope through the trees, then swept off along the mountainside.
    More police? he wondered.
    With slow, painful steps the group resumed their downward march.

Chapter 6
    GORDONVALE BY NIGHT
    A s the group stumbled off the rough track one after another several men, just visible in the blinding light, walked over to meet them. As they got closer Peter saw that they were dressed in suits. At a signal the spotlight was switched off and a lamp turned on in its place which allowed them to see who was there.
    The man with the rough voice spoke again: “I am Inspector Goldstein and I am in charge of this case. Who have we got here?”
    The group introduced themselves one by one, starting with Capt Conkey. While they did Peter took a closer look at the inspector. He was a lean man in his middle thirties with a moustache and a hard manner.
    I don’t think I’ll cross this bloke! was Peter’s main impression.
    In the light of the lamp Peter was able to see that two more uniformed policemen were also present. The other two men in suits were very obviously plain clothes policemen.
    Inspector Goldstein pointed to where several vehicles were parked beside the cane field. “All you cadets go and wait over there. You too please Captain. While you are there do not say anything to anyone about what you have seen or done. All you are to say is that you found an injured bushwalker and tried to help. Is that clear?”
    â€œYes sir,” they