Chapter Fifty-one – With the Tide

WILD DOG RIVER BY GREG BARRON

Back in the safety of the riverside scrub, Liang chewed a strip of dried meat, a tiny portion of salted, dried plum, and swallowed a mouthful of water from the dregs of a waterskin. Somewhat refreshed, he described what he had seen to his men. They were exhausted but alert, aware that their fates might be determined by what their leader had to say.

‘Haoyu came here,’ Liang began, ‘as we feared, and it has not taken him long to wreak havoc on our fellow voyagers.’ In low tones he described the heads on bloody poles. ‘Qian Yao was a good man, and he will be missed – as will his lieutenants. They deserved better than to be butchered at the hands of that demon and his followers.’

Chung Shi raised from his haunches, holding his jian blade low. ‘Do we attack now?’ he asked. ‘Surely we must.’

‘Not yet,’ said Liang. He had absorbed many details while observing the Kingfisher on her mooring. Apart from Haoyu and his armed force on the bank, there were more men on the ship, some waiting near the ship’s cannons. The tide had turned around dawn, and was still ebbing strongly. He was juggling ideas in his head, trying to decide on the best course of action. This situation was already a disaster for which he would be held responsible, but the scale could still be minimised.

‘Why not attack now?’ It was Tsang, the mutineer of the previous night speaking. ‘They are mast-monkeys and cabin boys. In a fight they will be no match for us. In a short time from now you could be drinking jasmine tea in the main cabin, watching me whittle a point on a stake for Haoyu’s ugly head.’

Liang frowned, ‘I am as anxious as you, yet we must move carefully. If we attack now, we would first have to defeat Haoyu and his sympathisers on land, then try to seize the sampan and row out. There are cannons on the Kingfisher and men to serve them. That is too risky, and I doubt that we would win through.’

‘What then? We cannot let the murderous Haoyu sail away!’

‘This is only a short delay, but we will not risk a frontal assault. I don’t believe that Haoyu will leave without the gold. It seems that he is now preparing to meet the Rì Chū Guild party. I know Haoyu and how he thinks – how he uses his tongue as a weapon. He will convince the Guild leaders that their causes align – he wants their trained fighters. I’m guessing that he’ll offer them half the gold – which of course they don’t yet possess.’ Liang smiled grimly. ‘The gold is our strength, and only we know where it is hidden.’ He turned to the youngest member of the party – so thin now that he was skin and bone, his face smeared with grime from the privations they had faced. ‘Gam,’ he said, ‘I have much to ask of you.’

‘Anything you ask, Elder Brother.’

‘You will be our eyes – and play an important part in what is soon to come.’ He turned to the others. ‘The rest of you; refresh yourselves, clean your guns and sharpen your blades. Your lust for blood will be sated by the time the sun stands high today.’

Liang led Gam down along the riverbank, keeping strictly to cover all the way, creeping forward until they could again see the clearing beside the moored boat. Liang’s lips curled in hatred as he watched Haoyu, dressed in finery stolen from the dead captain’s wardrobe, the powerful dragon medal hanging around his neck, gathering his men, moving around the area and kicking sleeping bodies out of their slumber.

‘Get up,’ Haoyu called, ‘unless you wish to have your bellies pricked while you sleep.’

In a short time, he had the men all dressed and in ragged ranks, holding weapons and looking impressive. At an order from Haoyu, the ship’s crew fired one of the cannons into the air. It exploded with an ear-numbing blast of sound; a puff of smoke. It was followed by the warble and wail of a thousand birds taking flight.

Liang whispered to Gam, ‘That was a summons – a signal – to make the Guild party come here. I’ll tell you what is going to happen. Haoyu is planning to parley with them as they arrive. He will remain here on land to meet them and offer a deal. He is dressing up his deck swabbers to look like a more impressive force than they are.’ He paused, placed one hand on Gam’s shoulder and looked seriously into his eyes. ‘I want you to stay here and watch. As soon as the Guild party arrives and begins to treat with Haoyu, run up the bank and find us. We will be a short march upstream, making our preparations. ‘Do you understand?’

‘Yes, Elder Brother, I understand.’

***

I heard the chopper in the air now, starting its search pattern. The pilot, I reasoned, would mark out the boundaries of his intended grid first, and the river was an obvious demarcation. It seemed likely that we were in for another visit, and standing out on the rocks of the river bar, we were about as exposed as we could be.

‘This is way too open,’ I called to Kat. ‘We have to get off here now.’ She’d washed her face and hands in the shallow water, and her skin was shining, hair glossy black.

‘Just wait one second,’ she called, then, ‘Hey Tommy. If you had a treasure to hide here, where would you put it?’

The chopper was coming closer. I could feel and hear it. With the rifle slung on my back, I started rock-hopping back towards the northern bank, the chuckle of the water merging with the thwack of the rotors.

Tommy shrugged, pointed to the pool below the rapids. ‘To hide something good, maybe sink it down there – pretty deep water.’ He shifted his body to face upstream. ‘Or in the roots under them old trees.’

The chatter of the tail rotor came now – that damned song building in my head again. We were still exposed as I reached Kat.

‘Move!’ I shouted, grabbing her arm and heading for the bank. Now she ran with me, and Tommy beside us. The three of us hopped up from the bar, upstream a few paces, then dived under a hefty old paperbark tree, lying face-down under boughs a yard across until the chopper had moved on overhead. We sat up.

‘What do we try next?’ asked Kat.  

‘I’m not going diving in that pool down there,’ I said, ‘not even for gold.’

There was a rumble of thunder from clouds building out to the west, audible even over the sound of the chopper. Tommy wandered off to where the current licked against the bank. Kat rose also, and after a moment of watching them, leaning on my elbow, I followed, continuing to stare as Tommy moved to the riverbank then slid down, walking lightly along a downed branch over a channel of deep water, and back into shallow water running lightly over rocks.

‘Hey,’ he shouted.

Kat and I both moved close to the edge.

He pointed down at the water flowing over the exposed rock backbone of the bar, and there, in shin-deep water, was an unmistakable glint of yellow.

‘This the treasure you mean?’ he asked.

‘Jesus,’ I said, then shimmied down the bank, using the same route as Tommy to cross the little channel. By then he was holding a small ingot of gold in his hand. It was shaped like the wooden rods we used to learn maths with at school, but about four times the thickness.

Tommy passed the object into my hand. It was heavy for its size, maybe three or four pounds. It was rough cast, but on one side there was what had to be a Chinese character moulded into the precious metal.

‘It’s gold, isn’t it?’ Kat asked.

‘Sure is,’ I said, astounded at how easily we had found evidence of the hoard. ‘Thousands of bucks worth. You were so clever to think of this, when Nolan and his whole crew couldn’t work it out.’

Kat started walking through the shallow water, head down, looking for more. Tommy and I did the same, over the next few minutes, minus a short break when we heard the chopper close by and headed for cover again. I turned over larger rocks, and pulled up some hefty chunks of driftwood, keeping a wary eye on the deeper water, not straying too close. I was still not comfortable being near to it.

‘The rest of the gold must be here somewhere,’ I said, ‘but it would be quite a job to dig all this up and try to find it – it’s probably scattered all over the place, if the current has got to it – and gold is heavy, it would sink to the bottom of the gravel – that one ingot seemed to have been caught by the underlying rock of the bar.’

Tommy agreed, ‘The channels change every wet season.’

Kat stopped her searching for a moment, standing there in the water looking at me. ‘I know you’ve got this idea of finding the gold and doing some swap with Nolan for our freedom, maybe a boat, but if that’s the case you might as well have stayed in Cooktown. Don’t you want to clear your name?’

‘Of course I do.’

‘You can only do that with outside help.’

‘Fat chance of that.’

‘What about the army?’

‘This is a police matter.’

Kat made a face. ‘A bunch of people, including crooked police, running around with guns threatening to overthrow the country? I might be naïve, but it sounds like something the army might be interested in. Have you still got contacts?’

I thought of Lieutenant Scott Hadley from Mackay. He’d testified for me in court, and we liked and trusted each other. He’d listen. If I could contact him. ‘I guess so, but how?’

Kat lowered her eyes. ‘I don’t know.’

‘There’s an HF radio set on the Vanguard, if the battery’s holding up.’

‘That’s an idea.’

I pushed the gold ingot into the pocket of my jeans – where it sat heavily but comfortable enough – then gestured at the clouds banking up on the horizon. ‘There’s heavy rain on the way. If we wait half an hour, it’s going to start pissing down. That chopper will either be grounded, or have zero visibility. That’s when we make our move.’

***

Upstream from the Kingfisher, where tall trees grew close to the water, Liang was tense, sweating as they cut and rolled sections of deadfall timber towards the water – old tree trunks and heavy branches – leaving them at the edge, ready. They picked out healthy specimens, dry and sound, that would float well.

 In an hour of hard labour, they had nine floating sections ready and waiting. From the distance Liang heard noises that may have been the sound of voices, or birds or animals. He could not tell, yet it spurred him on just the same.

Gam arrived at last, at a run, sweat running in droplets down his face, picking out Liang and hurrying to him gratefully. ‘The Guild – and Haoyu. They are in a parley – at first they were hostile to each other, but I think you are right. They will join forces.’

Liang was not surprised by this development. ‘Gam, this time I must ask you to fight with us. We have no choice – we need every man.’

Gam gave an awkward smile. ‘With all the strength in my arms,’ he said.

***

The rain took longer to start than I had expected, and we waited in the undergrowth while the humidity grew to murderous levels and thunder shook the ground. The clouds were black and pregnant with moisture, drifting in with bulging bellies of rain below. The sound of the chopper was constant, near and far, mostly in the distance.

Finally, the thunder seemed to subside, and in the silence that followed the first fat drops of rain began to fall. Within a minute it was a deluge – heavy tropical rain that cast a curtain over the world.

‘Let’s go,’ I said to Kat, then turned to Tommy. ‘We’re probably going to get ourselves into trouble again. You don’t have to come.’

Tommy shrugged ‘You people need lookin’ after now.’

I was pleased, but I guess that’s what allies are like. They don’t quit on you.

The three of us walked along the riverbank in the rain, the surface of the water pockmarked from the impact of a million raindrops all striking at once. I carried the rifle in one hand. Kat still had her bag of food and other bits and pieces from the boat.

‘Proper rain, this one,’ said Tommy at one point, then gestured at the river and made a rising motion with his hand. I was grateful for his presence. Even in the deluge he led us unerringly through the undergrowth, in and around the trees. There was no longer any sign nor sound of the chopper, and even motorbikes would be slowing to a crawl in this.

We passed two more rock bars, long sections of galloping river, and finally we came to where the Vanguard lay to one side, under the trees, looking decrepit and unloved. Sergeant Green and the crew had been there. I could see lines running from side cleats to tree trunks, but it appeared to have been abandoned. I’d worried that there might be a guard, but there was not one.

We walked around the other side. The water was a little higher than it had been when we grounded the hull.

‘Do you think the radio will work?’ Kat asked.

‘I hope so.’

I climbed over the side, noticing that the Vanguard was already being claimed by the bush – full of branches and fruit that had dropped from the overhanging trees, smelling of bat shit and old diesel. Kat came behind me, and inside the cockpit I handed her the rifle, then pushed open the cabin door and headed towards the dash. She followed, but Tommy held back, hovering just outside in the rain.

Striding into the cabin, I reached up to the twin radio sets. One was VHF – too short in range to be much help here, and the other HF. I flicked switches. Nothing came on.

I was fiddling when I heard two sounds. One was the sound of running feet – it was Tommy, heading hell for leather across the deck, over the gunnel and into the water. The second was the sound of the slide being drawn back on an automatic handgun. I turned to look, and in the gloom of that rain-darkened main cabin, I saw two men on the seats of a dinette table. One was Brian Grayling, and the other was the man who had killed two men at the Hope Islands. In his right hand was a Browning pistol, and it was steady as a rock, held pointed to my chest.

Brian Grayling said, ‘Don’t do anything rash, Pete. Don’t move a muscle.’

***

The tide was still ebbing, but for how much longer Liang did not know. The nine men pushed their makeshift watercraft out into the current and clambered on, each according to his preference and the features of the log itself. Some straddled the floating timbers like horses, others lay on their stomachs.

Using hands as paddles, the strange flotilla began to speed their way downstream. The men did not speak, concentrating on maintaining their balance, and keeping all firearms and ammunition out of the water.

Liang led the way. He never stopped watching the current, seeking out the whorls of grey-brown water as it eddied downstream; avoiding snags, and keeping an eye out for the gnarled river monsters that lifted their blunt ugly heads and either submerged, or remained malevolently on the surface.

It took a surprisingly short time for the Kingfisher to come into view. Liang could see men on board, but they were crowded at the starboard rail, eyes focussed on the party of Rì Chū Guild fighters – and Haoyu and his seamen-dressed-as-warriors – who were still parleying a long stone’s throw from the bank. Liang noted the grazing horses of the enemy, and he felt a pang of remorse – and renewed determination when he remembered the sacrifice of the two men he had left to defend a hill – men who had surely now been killed by these people.

Liang pointed to the ship with one hand and began trying to paddle himself across, watching the others follow suit. The current was strong here, and moving sideways took an effort, given the need to move silently, with no splashing.

The ship loomed up now, almost close enough to touch with his fingertips. Liang felt a surge of hope in his heart. The men on deck were still unsuspecting of the attack. He and his men would cut them down like dogs, and he was looking forward to the fight.

Just as Liang reached up and gripped the deck timbers, there was a terrible scream from behind him. Turning, his vision filled with the sight of bloody spray erupting from the river surface. The back and shoulders of one of the river monsters appeared in the midst of this conflagration, launched halfway out of the water, jaws clasped bulldog-like around his victim – one of Liang’s men. Another tremendous splash, then both man and beast disappeared below the surface, leaving only the floating log the man had been on, strangely unscathed.

Now Liang looked into the terrified eyes of the rest of his men. Tsang broke first, emitting a shriek and paddling for the shore. Reaching shelving mud he stumbled on, wailing, running for the safety of hard ground, alerting even those on the shore who had not yet understood the crocodile’s attack and its meaning.

The Kingfisher’s deck was now alive with running men. Liang recovered, gripped a timber hard, and heaved himself up. As the defenders converged on him, he glanced out across to the shore where the Guild fighters and Haoyu’s men were now both hurrying back to join the fight. The first wave of them crowded into the Sampan and rowed like demons towards the Kingfisher. Liang turned his attention back to protecting his men as they gained the deck. Chung Shih arrived, then Gam behind him.

Nothing matters now but to take the ship, Liang told himself. With the boat they can win through. Without it they cannot.

***

Keeping his voice low and level, Brian Grayling said to Kat, ‘Put the rifle down on the deck, darling. Nice and slow.’

Kat did as she was told. I felt like an idiot, not having seen the two men there in the gloom as I rushed in. Tiredness, stress, fear. There were many things I could blame, but none of them loomed as large in my mind as old-fashioned carelessness.

‘Sit down,’ barked Grayling. ‘Both of you.’

Facing the main windscreen were two helm chairs, both of cracked and faded leather, on tall pedestals. I swivelled the nearest and sat. Kat did the same. God she was cool, I decided, as she shot me a glance. Most people I know would have been bawling with fear by now. Not Kat.

‘I told you Pete was smart enough to come here, didn’t I?’ said Grayling to the man with the gun.

The killer didn’t reply, just focussed on me, a sneer on his lips, his beard glossy and black, his singlet old and stained, almost dry, so they had been here for a while. ‘Nice to see you again – didn’t have much time to chat last time …’

I had seen this moment in my dreams, so many times that I studied those black eyes, and the stained teeth. He was taunting me. Probably relished the idea of finishing off the job he had started all those months ago.

‘You’ve got a choice, Pete,’ said Grayling. ‘You can either seize an opportunity or you can keep going down a path that ends in a deep hole out on the plain somewhere.’

‘What opportunity is that, exactly?’

Grayling sighed, ‘Let’s talk about your father.’

‘He’s got nothing to do with this – or with you.’

‘Oh, but he does. He was one of us – one of the originals.’

I’d always been pretty fair at hiding the strength of a poker hand behind a straight face, but now it felt like my guts fell through my mouth and hit the floor. I pictured my dad, with his kind face, inclined to jowls in his later years, but with a mind as sharp as a pin.

‘Bullshit,’ I said at last. ‘My father was too smart …’

‘He was smart alright. The roots of this movement go back twenty years or more. Nolan started it – we served together in World War Two – in the Q-Store – I was younger of course. Just a private – up in New Guinea. I helped him and he helped me, and we talked a lot. I met your old man after the war. Great bloke, and after a while he started to see things like I did.

‘I sent you up here, to do a story, to give you the opportunity to learn about us, and come around to our way of thinking. You were a veteran, after all – cynical and irreverent about everything. I was pretty sure that you had all the right ingredients, and that you might fill your old man’s boots. Unfortunately, the timing was bad, Nolan was preoccupied with looking for the gold, and the police investigation into old Karberry’s killing made him paranoid about outsiders. Then you got hold of that damned medal that the kid had found, and we had to get it back. I had nothing to do with the killings, but I had to go along.’

‘You’re full of shit,’ I hissed. ‘I know that you were mates with Dad, but I don’t believe anything else you say.’

‘It’s not too late, Pete. Join us. Don’t you see what’s happening in this country? You were shafted in Vietnam by a government controlled by billionaires. They want to herd us into pens, sedate the life out of us. Take all the wealth for themselves. A day is gonna come when there are cameras everywhere, on streets and intersections – every time you walk into a shop, or share a jug with a few mates at the pub. They want to track us, train us, exploit us.’

‘That might even be true,’ I said, ‘but you’ve got your methods wrong. You don’t change things by murdering people, framing people, and building private armies.’

‘You need to choose, Pete, we don’t have time to stuff around. Come with me and we’ll turn you into the new man you need to be. We can make the charges against you disappear – prepare you for a miraculous return, and you can even have your old job back at the Post.’ His eyes moved to Kat. ‘We’ll get your lady friend here back to her job in Cooktown, make up a story about her getting lost in the bush.’

I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, preparing to let myself fall. ‘If I say no, what happens?’

‘We’ll take you back to camp, and let Nolan decide. He’s the boss. Pretty sure that means a bullet in the back and a deep hole. You know way too much, and the world thinks you got eaten by a croc back in Townsville.’ He paused. ‘We sold a shitload of newspapers that day, I can tell you.’

‘So I either join in, or you’ll murder me, right?’

Grayling shrugged. ‘Both of you. Sorry.’

I turned to look at Kat, giving her a look that said something like, back to Plan A.

I reached into my jeans pocket and dragged out the small ingot of gold, holding it tightly in my closed fist. ‘What if I don’t want to join your fucking cause …’ I opened my hand, the gold ingot lying exposed on my palm, the Chinese character uppermost. ‘… but I can tell you where the rest of the gold is?’

Brian Grayling’s eyes were wide as planets, and for a moment the only sound was that of rain pouring down on the steel cabin top.

©2024 Greg Barron

Continued next Saturday.

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