DELIVERANCE: a gripping action thriller full of suspense Read Online Free
Author: Jackson Cole
prearranged signal for his contact.
Ten minutes later Charlie stands in a back alley whilst his contact – Tom – hands him a fishing rod carry case. But there is no fishing rod inside. Charlie takes the case and places it in his car alongside a fishing box and a net.
Clever Charlie.
Now the L96A1 rifle hidden in the fishing rod case looks right at home amongst the rest of the fishing gear that Charlie stole from the back of the truck on the way out of St. George. Next, Tom hands Charlie a box marked hooks , which contains the rifle’s ammunition. A single 7.62x51 millimetre 10 round magazine. Once the box is stowed alongside the rifle, Charlie returns to Tom.
‘I wasn’t here,’ he states simply.
‘Yes, Charlie.’
‘How’s your daughter, Claire? How is she settling into St. George?’
Tom’s face drains of colour.
‘How is her little girl too?’ Charlie adds. ‘Rosie, I think her name is.’
‘I don’t know, Charlie,’ Tom replies shakily. ‘I haven’t spoken to Claire in a while.’
‘You called her yesterday at 16:43 hours,’ Charlie snaps. ‘The call lasted seven minutes. You shouldn’t lie to me Tom. You know I hate that.’
‘Sorry, Charlie.’
‘Seeing as you can’t remember though, I’ll tell you. She is doing just fine. She looks good in fact, and Rosie is almost walking now.’
Tom’s eyes brim with tears.
‘I was never here, Tom.’
With that, Charlie hands Tom a photograph. Then he gets back into the car, and drives away.
Tom shivers as he looks down at the picture. It is a photograph of Claire and Rosie, clearly taken recently.
Charlie heads back to the hotel where he will sleep for four hours before continuing on his way.
Now he is nearer to Sarah, and armed.
Fifteen hours to go.
In Davenport, Sarah lies in the backyard following Bruce’s attack. She is naked from the waist down and covered in dirt.
Once Bruce finished indulging his depravity, he kicked her once in the ribs and then headed back into the house. Sarah can hear him snoring loudly on the sofa. She sits up and drags herself to her feet. Then, whilst glaring directly through the open back door at Bruce’s sleeping form, she strides towards the house on shaking legs. She pauses at the rusty barbecue nearby for a second and looks down. Then, with a slight nod, she picks up the skewer from the filthy grill, and then heads for the house once more. She stops momentarily as she reaches the door, frightened of the snoring figure twelve feet in front of her. But then the anger returns, and she continues onwards. She raises the skewer high above her head and tenses her muscles.
‘Think about it,’ Bruce says, without opening his eyes. ‘It’s not me that owns you. So if I die, there will be someone else to replace me.’
Crestfallen, Sarah allows the skewer to fall from her fingers a second before Bruce’s right hand snakes outwards, smashing into her thigh. The unexpected blow deadens her leg and sends her crashing towards the floor where her head connects with the fireplace.
She is immobile, but still breathing.
Alive.
For now at least.
***
High above Australia now, Marshall feels the plane begin to descend once more, and realizes that his thinking time has brought him all of the way to Alice Springs. This is the final leg of the journey; just under 500 km to go.
Once the landing is complete, Marshall is ushered into a small outbuilding. He is told to wait until the helicopter is ready for take-off, but he doesn’t mind. The inevitable memories of the Anderson torture are already looming in his mind. He dispels them by deciding to get changed. He removes his clothes, stripping completely naked. There is nobody else in the outbuilding, but even if there was, the army removes any timidity very quickly. Once naked, he opens the mini kit package to find the night patrol outfit is packed on top as it should be. He puts the trousers straight on without anything underneath them; it was
Ten minutes later Charlie stands in a back alley whilst his contact – Tom – hands him a fishing rod carry case. But there is no fishing rod inside. Charlie takes the case and places it in his car alongside a fishing box and a net.
Clever Charlie.
Now the L96A1 rifle hidden in the fishing rod case looks right at home amongst the rest of the fishing gear that Charlie stole from the back of the truck on the way out of St. George. Next, Tom hands Charlie a box marked hooks , which contains the rifle’s ammunition. A single 7.62x51 millimetre 10 round magazine. Once the box is stowed alongside the rifle, Charlie returns to Tom.
‘I wasn’t here,’ he states simply.
‘Yes, Charlie.’
‘How’s your daughter, Claire? How is she settling into St. George?’
Tom’s face drains of colour.
‘How is her little girl too?’ Charlie adds. ‘Rosie, I think her name is.’
‘I don’t know, Charlie,’ Tom replies shakily. ‘I haven’t spoken to Claire in a while.’
‘You called her yesterday at 16:43 hours,’ Charlie snaps. ‘The call lasted seven minutes. You shouldn’t lie to me Tom. You know I hate that.’
‘Sorry, Charlie.’
‘Seeing as you can’t remember though, I’ll tell you. She is doing just fine. She looks good in fact, and Rosie is almost walking now.’
Tom’s eyes brim with tears.
‘I was never here, Tom.’
With that, Charlie hands Tom a photograph. Then he gets back into the car, and drives away.
Tom shivers as he looks down at the picture. It is a photograph of Claire and Rosie, clearly taken recently.
Charlie heads back to the hotel where he will sleep for four hours before continuing on his way.
Now he is nearer to Sarah, and armed.
Fifteen hours to go.
In Davenport, Sarah lies in the backyard following Bruce’s attack. She is naked from the waist down and covered in dirt.
Once Bruce finished indulging his depravity, he kicked her once in the ribs and then headed back into the house. Sarah can hear him snoring loudly on the sofa. She sits up and drags herself to her feet. Then, whilst glaring directly through the open back door at Bruce’s sleeping form, she strides towards the house on shaking legs. She pauses at the rusty barbecue nearby for a second and looks down. Then, with a slight nod, she picks up the skewer from the filthy grill, and then heads for the house once more. She stops momentarily as she reaches the door, frightened of the snoring figure twelve feet in front of her. But then the anger returns, and she continues onwards. She raises the skewer high above her head and tenses her muscles.
‘Think about it,’ Bruce says, without opening his eyes. ‘It’s not me that owns you. So if I die, there will be someone else to replace me.’
Crestfallen, Sarah allows the skewer to fall from her fingers a second before Bruce’s right hand snakes outwards, smashing into her thigh. The unexpected blow deadens her leg and sends her crashing towards the floor where her head connects with the fireplace.
She is immobile, but still breathing.
Alive.
For now at least.
***
High above Australia now, Marshall feels the plane begin to descend once more, and realizes that his thinking time has brought him all of the way to Alice Springs. This is the final leg of the journey; just under 500 km to go.
Once the landing is complete, Marshall is ushered into a small outbuilding. He is told to wait until the helicopter is ready for take-off, but he doesn’t mind. The inevitable memories of the Anderson torture are already looming in his mind. He dispels them by deciding to get changed. He removes his clothes, stripping completely naked. There is nobody else in the outbuilding, but even if there was, the army removes any timidity very quickly. Once naked, he opens the mini kit package to find the night patrol outfit is packed on top as it should be. He puts the trousers straight on without anything underneath them; it was
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