Читать книгу Shadow Hunt - Don Pendleton - Страница 2

His hands and feet were tied together and he was strung up between two willow trees that were slowly bending with his weight. Blood dripped from the cut on his scalp into the water below, carrying his scent to the alligators that infested the area.

He scanned the water for the telltale ripples of an approaching gator and spotted not one, but several, slowly closing in on him. For the moment, Bolan was safe, though it was only a matter of time before the branches gave way.

One alligator was getting more curious, and as it swam around below Bolan, a trickle of blood hit the water. Large jaws snapped out and slashed through the murky swamp.

The tree limbs creaked as Bolan tried to inch his body away from the reptile, and the Executioner knew that his chances of survival were diminishing with every second. Using all his strength, he pulled on the limb that seemed most likely to break. The tree groaned in objection, but finally relented. As the gator surfaced again, Bolan reached up and grabbed the sagging branch. It lowered inch by inch as he struggled to free his arm. The gator swam beneath him, his tail flicking Bolan’s boot as a subtle reminder that his time was just about up.

Bolan strained harder at the branch, while watching the gators on final approach. One of them circled and dived below the surface, and Bolan wondered if the creature was going to come leaping out of the water to snatch him in its jaws, like he was a worm on a hook.

The Executioner’s premonition proved accurate.