Nights crawled by slowly.
He could not say for certain how many days had gone by; that was not the immediate concern in his mind.
Where was everyone – Mom? Dad? Timothy and Rachel? Where in God’s name was everybody?
The pain was still there.
Please, God, let it end.
Alan Prince was weak. Not had any food for days apart from the liquid nutrients being fed directly into him through intravenous lines. His intestines were all coiled up and shrunken. His throat felt sore and itchy.
It was torture whichever position he tried to turn.
Like hell on earth.
The pain consumed you yet refused to take you out for good.
How much longer? How long could he endure this nightmare?