Guy Smith - Snakes

And now the snake was back on the bonnet again.

He looked at it, studied its colourful markings, those red, black and white rings. Through the thick glass of a cage in a reptile house you would find yourself marvelling at its colourings; through the windscreen of an overheated van which you had not been outside of for the last 24 hours your appreciation was somewhat diminished. You just wished the fucking thing did not exist, or else that it was dead. You wanted all snakes extinct.

He marvelled at its motionless posture; there was not so much as a blink from those cold penetrating eyes but you knew that it watched your every movement. Hypnotic in an awesome way. Go on, make a run for it, I'll give you a five-yard start. No way. Not yet.

'It's still around then.' He was amazed at the relaxed tone of Kirsten's voice. Worried, too, because this heat might cause you to react in a number of ways. Hallucinations, disorientation, anything that might put you at risk. You didn't even trust yourself.

'At least we can see it, we know where it is,' he replied.

'Try the starter again,' she said.

'It's just a waste of time. After this length of time the battery will be completely dead.'

'Well, we've nothing to lose. Go on, Keith, give it a go.'

'All right.' He fumbled for the key. 'But don't get raising any hopes because it won't . . .'

The starter-motor shuddered, turned, suddenly had life back in it. And fired!

"Keith, it's going to go? Kirsten yelled. She pulled herself upright, the fatigue, the exhaustion, suddenly falling from her. 'We can leave?

'Hold on, we're not out of the wood yet.' He pumped the throttle, got the revs and kept them, anticipated the engine fading any second. It didn't, it was running sweetly for one that had nearly 90,000 miles on the clock, the chassis vibrating, rattling the tools in the back. It was a dream, a cruel nightmare, one of those where you found yourself unable to run any further just as you took flight from some unmentionable horror or else you lost your way and never found it again. Maybe it was himself who was having hallucinations, not his companion,

'What are you waiting for?' She had her voice back, yelled at him. 'We can go.'

I'm waiting because I don't believe it. The snake moved, seemed to shift its entire body into a tighter coil, pressed itself up against the windscreen. As though it knew the van was about to move and was settling itself into a secure position so that it would not be dislodged when they bumped their way back down the track.

'Here we go!' he shouted back at her at the top of his voice. 'Full speed ahead for Stainforth.'

Keith crashed the lever into bottom gear, felt the van move forward, bumping over rough ground. There was room enough to swing it around in a circle and drive straight out, much easier than trying to reverse all the way back through the overhanging trees and undergrowth.

'Two minutes, probably less, and we'll be out on the road.'

This euphoria was an unforgettable experience. Suddenly everything had come right, they did not have any more worries. If the snake stayed on for the whole way then that was fine, the police or the army would soon deal with it.

They bumped their way over more stones and deep ruts, Keith now going into a left-hand circle, hard over on full lock, 180 degrees, and now they were facing in the opposite direction. Gathering speed so that he had to change up to second gear, the exit from this place of terror looming up in front of them. He would take it at speed, go like hell all the way.

And that was when the engine suddenly coughed, lost its momentum, hiccupped again. And petered out.

'Oh no? Kirsten cried, and buried her face in her hands as the van slowed, rolled to a halt.

They sat there, saying nothing because there was nothing to say, staring at the red ignition warning light on the dashboard, hating it, blaming it. Keith reached for the key, switched it off.

'What . . . happened?' Kirsten asked at length. 'We're out of petrol.' An admission of guilt was in his tone, a resignation to their plight. An apology. And the snake on the bonnet seemed to grin at them through the glass. 'I was nearly empty yesterday. I should have filled up but ... I didn't. I'm sorry, Kirsten.'

'Then the battery wasn't fiat after all.' 'I guess not. Probably a dicky lead or some dirt under the terminals.' What the fuck does it matter what it was? We're back to square one, in almost exactly the same place except that we're facing in the opposite direction.

'If the battery's working again now then ... then perhaps the horn will work. We can blow it, attract attention.'

The horn did work. A piping squeak rather than the expected klaxon blast. The sound came back at them off the quarry walls, hurtful to the ears, remonstrated with them for breaking the silence. Keith stopped after half a dozen goes; it was futile, no louder than their shouting some hours ago.

He did not look at Kirsten. I'm sorry, darling, I wish the engine had never started up, at least then we knew what we were up against. I gave you hope and immediately destroyed it.

'We're going to die, aren't we?' she said at length, her voice steady, not crying, staring out of the side window.

'I don't know.' He could not lie to her. 'Not if I can help it. Look, I'm going to try and make a break for it . . .'

'No! Not with that monstrosity perched out there waiting . . .'

'Not immediately,' he smiled. 'Probably in the morning when it gets light. There's a sickle in the back, the blade's like a razor. It would cut that snake in two at one stroke.'

'Unless it bit you first.' She clutched his arm, afraid that he might suddenly decide to make a run for freedom now.

'That's a chance I'll have to take. Better that than both of us dying in here. And, anyway, even if I do get bitten I probably won't die. It isn't a python, it can't crush me, I'll make it to the village, send help back to rescue you. You can bet your life that Doctor Brennan has at this moment got every available type of snakebite serum handy in his surgery.' Of course, there were certain snake poisons that had no known antidote. He didn't tell Kirsten that, just hoped that the creature on the bonnet was not one of those.

'I want to come with you,' she said.

'Don't be bloody silly, there's no point in us both getting bitten.'

'I suppose you're right,' she sighed. 'But if I'm asleep wake me up before you go.'

'I promise.' He leaned across, kissed her.

'Oh, and there's something else,' she murmured, 'not that I suppose it makes any difference now.'

'What's that?'

'I'm not pregnant.'

A sudden pang of anxiety had him asking, 'But you will marry me, won't you?'

'Of course I will,' she smiled, brushed her lips against his, 'I was always going to anyway. It was just that my folks made everything so difficult for me. I guess it took these last few hours to make me realise that I don't have to do everything they say. So some good has come out of it. Don't spoil it all, Keith, don't let that snake bite you.'

'I'll be OK.' He kissed her again. 'I'd say right now its number's up if it's foolish enough to get too close to me.'

He felt light-headed, euphoric, wanted to open die window, shout out loud that everything was fine, that Kirsten Davis was going to marry him no matter what her folks said.

There was only one thing marring his happiness: that snake coiled up on the bonnet of the van—primed to kill.

THE SNAKES were becoming restless down in their underground lair. They had slept throughout the heat of the day and now with the coming of night they were stirring. They were hungry, they were afraid. But that was not all.

The inborn hatred of different species for each other was beginning to manifest itself. Above all, most hated the huge African rock python that dominated them, ruled over them. Nature's pecking order, it existed in every form of life. I'm the biggest, the boss, so I can kick you. But you can kick the next smallest. And so on.