by Peter Parken
SERPENTINE
ADVANCED PRAISE FOR SERPENTINE
Wow! Another great read! I think I read this one in record time (one and a half days). I couldn’t put it down. Again, highlights the abuse of power that exists south of the border! As with many of your books, this would make for a great movie. Well done Pete and Alison. Already looking forward to the next one. ~ Jim
A real page turner with something for everyone, action, romance, suspense and detective work! I can’t wait to read another of Peter and Alison’s books! ~ Adelle Saul
Pete Parkin has done it again with his new mystery thriller ‘Serpentine’. I am smart now so I put my seat-belt on before starting one of his books and I don’t take it off until the last word on the last page has been read. ~ David Bradley
Peter Parkin and Alison Darby do it again! I was on the edge of my seat on more than one occasion. As usual, the characters are unforgettable and story lineunique and interesting. I highly recommend Serpentine! ~ Linda Seder
OTHER BOOKS
Headhunter
For executive Jeff Kavanaugh, the most horrifying day of his life begins with an eerie premonition. He doesn’t understand the signs, but something is ominously different. His world seems off. Out of place, out of order. Weird symbols are dancing in front of his eyes.
Jeff has a gift that he can’t control and he’s been conditioned for most of his young life to avoid it rather than embrace it. But the courage he is forced to summon that fateful day changes his life forever. Will Jeff finally see his gift as a true blessing… or, instead, as a curse?
Skeleton
One sudden and violent incident triggers an awakening. A mind that has been shrouded for years by Alzheimer’s disease becomes lucid for a few precious moments—just long enough to open the doors to a secret that has been buried for over thirty years.
Dennis Chambers, Chief of Detectives for the city of Washington, D. C., can’t forget the words that were uttered. He is obsessed with trying to unlock his mother’s mind at least one more time. For just a few more words. As he doggedly pursues the elusive and horrifying secret, deadly forces are at work determined to keep it buried forever.
MetroCafe
Mike Baxter, along with his three best friends and colleagues, are enjoying their annual golfing vacation in Florida with their wives when tragedy strikes, turning their all too comfortable world upside down. The four friends are now down to three and they quickly become embroiled in an apparent embezzlement scheme that their dead friend seems to have engineered. The company that bears Mike’s name is in the thick of it and the friends desperately attempt to buy time before being forced to disclose the deception.
Was it simple embezzlement? Or was it something far more sinister and horrifying?
Mule
Two strangers are brought together by a beautiful dog. A dog that possesses the clues to a horrifying secret that speaks from the grave. Their harrowing journey of danger and betrayal lurches them headlong into the tangled web of a diabolical plot, and the realization that with unbridled power even the noblest of intentions can corrupt the human conscience and soul.
Mule is a fast-paced, thought-provoking thriller, gripping from its very first pages right to its final, utterly stunning words.
Letters from a Killer
Pulitzer Prize winning journalist Bradley Crawford and his wife, Kristy, are vacationing on an island off the west coast of Canada. But their dreamy little escape quickly turns into a nightmare. When their ordeal is over, twenty letters from an infamous killer have changed hands, blazing a trail of cryptic clues that opens Pandora’s Box. Once that box is opened, it can’t be closed.
Brad’s quest to win his third Pulitzer Prize becomes an obsession, especially with a story that begins to take shape as the ‘scoop of the century.’ But there are others who are also interested in the outcome of his story. The dogged pursuit of a story by a journalist who just can’t quit leads to a cavalcade of events that will change lives forever.
sands press
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Copyright © Peter Parkin 2014
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Cover Concept by DigiWriting
Formatting by Kevin Davidson
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This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales, are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the authors’ imaginations and are not to be construed as real.
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1st Digital Edition March 2016
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* * *
sands press
Brockville, Ontario
SERPENTINE
PETER PARKIN
&
ALISON DARBY
* * *
sands press
Brockville, Ontario
“The world is a dangerous place to live, not because of the people who are evil, but because of the people who don’t do anything about it.” Albert Einstein
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
The Authors
Chapter 1
It reached majestically upward into the glorious Virginia sky. Undulating through the curves, serpent-like in its demeanor. Then the thing dove violently downward at a pitch that defied science, from a 400-foot height guaranteed to cause stomachs to rise to a point in the human body where they were never meant to be. It nosed upwards once again, cresting at a height only slightly less than the first. And down once more, almost straight down this time.
Then, mysteriously, it just disappeared.
From its dizzying height it was as if it had been swallowed up by some sinister force that never wanted it to see th
e light of day again.
It was swallowed up all right—by the earth itself. Into the tunnel it went, destined to careen along for almost a full two miles. Propelled at first merely by the powerful gravity from the death drop—but once that Kinetic energy was exhausted, the electromagnets kicked in, designed to slam human skulls back against their protective headrests for the entire 100 mph ride through the tunnel.
If there were actual humans sitting in this abomination not one head would be able to move forward to gaze around, due to the extreme G-forces at work. Eyeballs would have to do all the work. But there wasn’t much work for the eyes to do either because it was pitch black in the seemingly endless tunnel. They would frantically attempt to do their work anyway, trying desperately to find some essence of light, some reassurance that the nightmare would end.
The monster flew through the tunnel at a breakneck pace, slithering and sliding its way through the curves, curves that were designed to do nothing less than thrill, scare and confuse the living hell out of any human who had been brave enough to pay the thirty dollars price of admission for a near-death experience.
But at that moment there was no one onboard. The thing was on its final test run on this, its ‘opening day.’
This was the ‘Black Mamba.’ The newest, scariest, most horrifying rollercoaster in the world. Named after the world’s most dangerous snake, a snake that possessed enough venom at any one time—without re-charging—to kill twenty men in one measly hour. A snake that was one of the fastest in the world, able to slither at a speed of twenty kilometers per hour. Most people couldn’t outrun such a creature—a creature that also commonly grew to over eight feet in length.
So, when Nathan Morrell named his new creation, he couldn’t resist ‘Black Mamba. It suited his design perfectly.
In fact, he had named all of his rollercoasters after deadly snakes. There was the Cameroon Racer down in Johannesburg, the Copperhead in Honolulu, the Bushmaster in Dallas, the Constrictor way ‘down under’ in Sydney, and the Boomslang in Tokyo.
Nathan—or Nate, as most people called him—was fascinated by snakes. And obsessed with rollercoasters.
Or was he just fascinated with fear?
Many people had asked Nate that question over the years and he himself had actually wondered about it too. Was it the mechanics and sheer genius of rollercoasters that fascinated him? Or was it the frenzied effect that these contraptions had on people? The screams, rapid heartbeats, sweats and palpitations? And the contrast with the sheer relief they felt when they staggered out of their seats when the experience was over?
Or was it that he had the innate ability to design these things and create the terror?
It wasn’t that Nate loved scaring people—he just loved giving them what they wanted, and then some. He relished seeing the faces of riders when they disembarked, enjoyed hearing their sighs of relief. Just as much as he enjoyed hearing their screams when they toppled forward off that first big hill, seeing the ground rush up at them.
That was one of the things Nate had become known for. He was known as being “beyond the first hill.” He knew that the ‘big one’ was always the absolute thrill with most rollercoasters—and riders knew that, too. After that hill was over, it was generally anti-climactic for the rest of the ride.
But that wasn’t the case with a coaster designed by Nathan Morrell’s company, ‘Flying Machines Inc.’ Nate and his team had reached world prominence by pushing the envelope and creating coaster experiences that were above and beyond “the first hill.” Coasters from Flying Machines Inc. had twists and turns that made the first hill seem like a mere toboggan ride. Each of Nate’s coasters also refused to rely solely on gravity and Kinetic energy to power the beast. At different points along the ride—unexpected points—engineered electromagnetism took over and propelled the train forward just when it was starting to get exhausted. To the absolute glee and terror of the riders.
And Nate knew full well that ‘glee’ and ‘terror’ were one and the same when in a safe, controlled environment.
Safety was paramount—Nate’s coasters were off the charts in terms of the terror element, but they were also hailed as the safest in the world.
Even when it came to safety restraints, Nate balanced safety with the experience itself. Most new coasters used shoulder harnesses—they pulled down from above the rider’s head and snapped in place around the crotch area. Nate hated these restraints and so did most riders. They were uncomfortable and really restricted the natural movement of the rider. Some riders referred to them as “head bangers.” But, these restraints were absolutely essential for coasters that had inversions. If you were upside down for part of the ride, you absolutely had no choice but to use a shoulder harness.
Nate didn’t believe in inversions. None of his coasters had that feature. In fact, in his opinion, inversions had been overused in the last two decades—kind of boring. Nate was a traditionalist—rollercoasters were meant to be ridden with eyes forward and upright. Upside down was a farce.
So, he went against the grain. Instead, he concentrated on downhill thrills and speed elements. Electromagnetics made the extreme speeds possible, at any time in the ride, and when the riders least expected them. They always expected speed when rocketing down a steep hill, but they sure didn’t expect it riding through a lateral tunnel, or on other straightaways along the course.
Because Flying Machines coasters had no inversions, there was no need for cumbersome shoulder harnesses. All they needed were secure lap bars, which were padded and automatically adjustable to the size of each rider. The advantage of lap bars, which most coaster enthusiasts would swear by, was the enhanced feeling of danger. Not being enveloped by a cumbersome shoulder harness accentuated the feeling of being vulnerable and unprotected. And wasn’t that the point of a good coaster ride? To have that sudden feeling of being totally in danger of losing your life—but knowing deep down inside that you were actually as snug as a bug in a rug?
The lap bars were state of the art. They unlocked automatically once the train re-entered the station and came to a stop. They could also be operated manually, or by remote control at any point along the course if riders needed to be retrieved due to a malfunction. They consisted of a simple, but secure, ratchet mechanism. Tried and true, through decades of safe excitement.
The Black Mamba had the most avant-garde of Nate’s ideas—the long dark tunnel. It twisted and turned, shuddered and shook, and was magnetically propelled at a terrifying pace through absolute claustrophobic darkness. The only thing Nate didn’t like about the tunnel was that he wouldn’t be able to hear the screams of the riders as they raced through it. The ‘scream factor’ was an important measurement for a coaster designer. It was similar to a singer receiving a standing ovation at a concert. The applause was a rush to the singer. The screams were a rush for Nate.
In the fifteen years that Nate’s company had been in existence, it had risen to a position of prominence that was unrivalled by any other designer. Flying Machines Inc. was in such demand it couldn’t keep up. Nate had taken the amusement park world by storm with his daring innovativeness and almost obsessive attention to detail. That was Nate’s nature.
Nathan Morrell was a ‘savant.’
Not only was he the most prominent thrill designer in the world, he was also the most hated. He had enemies, he knew. Particularly his former employer, the one who had given him his start twenty-five years before—until Nate finally left in frustration and started his own company. Success in any business bred enemies—Nate knew this. It didn’t bother him. In fact, it was probably the ultimate compliment. But he was putting competitors out of business. That was the part he didn’t like—he wasn’t in the business of hurting people. But he was indeed in the business of being the best. And if that caused casualties, he couldn’t help that. It wasn’t nice, but that was the way of the world. The strongest survived.
The Black Mamba was the latest addition to the gargantuan amusement park
, ‘Adventureland,’ just on the outskirts of Alexandria, Virginia. Close enough to Washington, D.C.—only about six miles away—to attract all of the well-heeled political nerds who needed an adrenaline rush once in a while to break the awful monotony that was the Capitol region. It was a destination amusement park, complete with hotels, restaurants, and medical facilities. Some people didn’t come just for the day—it was too large to do in a day. And Nate knew that most would ride his Black Mamba several times during their visit. Virginia was indeed a good market, and an affluent market.
Nate watched as the empty train came to a gentle rolling stop in the station. The test had gone well. Just as it had for the last few days, when he and his engineers had ridden the terror themselves. It worked like a charm, and even he had screamed his way through it. If he could scream, anyone could scream.
He turned around at the feel of a heavy hand on his shoulder.
“Well, boss, are you ready?”
Nate smiled at his friend and colleague.
Tom Foster, Nate’s chief mechanical engineer, was always with him at ‘opening days.’
“This is always such a big moment, isn’t it, Tom? Exciting as hell!”
“It sure is. We’re looking good, aren’t we? This thing is the bomb of rollercoasters. The Press is here in droves—have you seen them all?”
Nate allowed his eyes to scan the midway. “Yeah, they’re all waiting patiently.” He glanced at his watch. “The first full capacity run is in ten minutes. I can see by the red jackets that they’re already lining up.”