Alligator River: a Thriller by Jackson Banks

Author:Jackson Banks
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Serial Killer Novel, Thriller Novel, Thriller Books, Thriller Novels, Serial Killer Books, Crime Novel, Crime Thriller, Crime Thrillers, Books set in North Carolina, Thriller and Mystery, Suspense thriller, suspense book
Publisher: Jackson Banks
Published: 2022-11-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Tunstall was not dead, but he wished he was when he regained consciousness. His muscles ached and his head throbbed from the crash, and he desperately wished for some water and pain killers.

It was dark, and at first he thought he was back in his home, perhaps waking from a nightmare in the pitch black of night. He wasn’t in his bed. He could tell that from the feel of the hard surface he was laying on.

Where am I?

Tunstall struggled to figure that out as he cleared his mind, and the recollection of the previous night surfaced and boosted his adrenaline. He tried to move his arms, but found that he couldn’t. They were bound behind his back with what felt like handcuffs. He stretched out his legs, which were curled up as if he were in the fetal position, but found that he couldn’t fully extend them before his feet were met with hard resistance from some sort of wall. His legs moved together, bound with zip ties.

Tunstall’s eyes were open but he couldn’t see anything due to the blindfold wrapped tightly around his head. He flipped over onto his back with a great deal of effort and tried to sit up, but smacked his head on something hard. Tunstall rolled back onto his side to take the pressure off of his hands and wrists. He tried to call out, but couldn’t. There was a gag in his mouth.

It felt like he was in a coffin. His mind raced as he tried to guess how long he had been unconscious. Had it been minutes, or hours? His heart rate spiked and it became harder to breathe. Tunstall’s mind continued to clear, and he recalled being run off the road by the truck and vaguely recalled someone pulling him out of his car as it sank into the canal.

This was not a hospital room. That meant whomever removed him from his Charger was not someone who had his best interests in mind. Tunstall told himself to remain calm and attempted to take deep breaths through his nose to help slow his heart rate.

It took several minutes to overcome the panic and anxiety, but his rational mind finally took back control of his thoughts. Tunstall listened closely and could hear the muffled cries of gulls outside. He thought he heard the sound of outboard motors as well, and the displacement of water as they created wake. His suspicions were confirmed a few seconds later when he felt the unmistakable rise and fall of a wave underneath him. Tunstall was trapped in the storage hold of a boat.

He tried to scream through the gag, but what little noise he could manage to make couldn’t be heard. He began to thrash his body about and kick, hoping someone would hear and rescue him.

If Tunstall could see outside the boat, he would realize his efforts were futile. It was morning, and a few miles away McFadden was giving the press conference that Tunstall was supposed to be attending.

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