“Stop,” Mark said, “Wait.”
Riki slowed, and Mark looked her in the eyes. He was no more than a few inches from her face. The urge to kiss her came over him, and he chuckled. Even here, on the brink of death, surrounded by blood and gore, the male urge toward the female was still the strongest thing he felt.
He took a step back. “We’ll never make it. Not through this jungle. We have to get one of those trucks.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. They don’t have keys in them.”
“I saw keys. A lot of them. In the administration tent. I think the drivers brought the keys there and left them for the next shift.”
“You stay here. I’ll run back.”
“No way. You’ll never make it alone. We both go.”
Mark didn’t have the strength to fight her.
From the edge of the tree line, they could see the entirety of the site. It appeared like some prisoner of war camp. Men were huddled in small groups, slowly taken out by shadows. Far enough away that he could see exactly what was happening, he knew it was no random encounter. The animals weren’t coming into contact with humans because people had disrupted their natural environment or even because they were hungry. It was an attack. An orchestrated, planned attack.
“How can they do something like this?” Riki gasped.
“Craig thought they might’ve evolved intelligence. Part of intelligence is working in groups, having social bonds. These aren’t snakes anymore. These are something new.”
The administration tent was perhaps three hundred feet away from the tree line. Even if he could sprint all the way there, it would take too long. Any number of the serpents would see him, and they’d be on him in a flash.
Mark scanned the other tents. About a hundred feet away, maybe less, was the supply tent. They kept rifles in the supply tent.
“We can’t both make it to the administrative tent,” Mark said. “We got one shot. I’m going to divert their attention. When they converge on me, you make a run for the keys. Don’t look back, and don’t worry about me. You just get those keys and get to the truck. I’ll meet you there, but don’t wait for me. You get there first, you take off.”
“No, there has to be another way.”
“There’s not. And you’re faster than me. It has to be you. The supply tent’s right there. If I can hold ’em off and surprise ’em, I might be able to sneak away under the back. “It’s the only way, Riki.”
She nodded slowly, her gaze on the grass. Melancholy darkened her face, and Mark felt the same way, as if this would be the last time they saw each other, but he refused to show it. He had to portray to her that he was confident about this. That he wasn’t just sacrificing himself for her.
“Ready?”
She swallowed. “I guess.”
Mark slipped out of the bushes and dashed with everything he had toward the supply tent. The wind was in his face, the hot, wet jungle air swallowing him up as if he’d run inside a steaming cavern. His legs wobbled several times, his knees jerking slightly from nearly giving out, but he didn’t stop. He pushed harder. Ignoring the searing pain, clearly from a damaged nerve somewhere in his lower back. Ignoring the pounding in his head that told him he was possibly bleeding internally. Ignoring the icy fear that gripped his guts as if being smashed in a vice.
Fifty feet away now.
Acid rose in his throat. His legs were on fire. A short ache slashed through both sides of his ribs, and he didn’t know what it was. He imagined bits of fragmented bones loose inside his body. Cutting at everything soft, releasing cupfuls of blood into his body cavity.
Thirty feet away.
He ran a little farther, his legs slowing in response to the pain in his lungs. Then he shouted, “You fucking slimy bastards, come get me! I’m right here. Hey, hey, I’m right here!”
Nothing happened at first. Then, slowly, some of the snakes leisurely turned, curious as to what was pounding against the ground. Snakes didn’t have ears, but he had heard they sensed things through their jaws. So he kept screaming, coupling it with jumping up and down to vibrate the ground as much as he could.
Unhurriedly, the snakes turned to him and slid toward the supply tent.
Several were coming in from the north, one from the south, and the rest from the east. All were homing in on him as if they had sonar. Converging to a single point.
The supply tent was ten feet away. Mark felt like he was going to pass out. A nearly comical memory hit him just then. Running the mile in fifth grade. He wasn’t the fittest child, and the mile had nearly killed him. Anyone who ran over nine minutes was required to try again, and Mark certainly would not be one of those people. So he sprinted as fast as he could, vomited his school lunch, and then had to lie on the grass nearly fifteen minutes to recover.
He had that same sick feeling now. Only this time, he forced himself to keep going.
Jumping through the flaps of the tent, Mark saw a wooden table with papers and clipboards on it. Probably used by the supply clerk to log what people were taking. He leapt over the desk, stumbled to the back of the tent, and grabbed the first rifle he saw. Something that looked like it belonged in a modern war.
The rifle was already loaded. He wondered if they left them that way when he noticed the blood spatter on the barrel. Someone else had already had his idea but hadn’t survived to tell him about it.
Mark lifted the rifle just as the first serpent poked his head into the flaps of the tent. He lifted the weapon, aimed quickly, and squeezed the trigger. He fired three rounds. The head was so big he hit on all three, the pop of the rifle fire momentarily deafening him. One round entered the serpent’s mouth, and it shrieked like a dying cat and pulled out of the tent.
Mark scoured the back of the tent for any way out. There was none. He’d have to cut his way out. He quickly went through several supply bins until he wrapped his hand around a large hunting knife. Just as he was about to cut a flap of tent away, he saw trembling in the canvas up near the wooden beams. The supply tent was like the administration tent, something set up to be here a long time.
The wooden beams creaked as though bearing the weight of something heavy. Mark’s gaze turned upward, and he froze. The thing was climbing higher on the roof, searching for a way in. Another noise overtook it from the opposite side of the roof. They were coming in from the top.
Mark slashed a huge gap in the tent just as the wooden beams crumbled like matchsticks under the weight of the enormous animals. The entire thing collapsed, and something heavy fell on him. It felt like a metal beam falling from a skyscraper, nearly crushing him. If it had just fallen a little higher onto his chest instead of his stomach, he’d be dead.
Then the mass slipped off him.
Mark rolled over and crawled on his stomach. He could see nothing in front of him. He heard a series of loud hisses and shrieks. Wrapped in darkness, he thought that was what hell must sound like.
He continued crawling until he was nearly out from under the canvas. The edge was up about six inches, and he could see outside. Two of the gargantuan serpents lay just next to the collapsed tent. They were surveying the carnage, their tongues darting in and out of their mouths so fast he could barely see them.
One lifted its head and arched low then high. The other looped around it, coiling over the neck. The other one shrieked and nipped at it; it uncoiled and faced the creature. Both let out sounds Mark had never heard and would never forget. Something akin to human screams, but not quite.
The snakes twisted around, slithering over the canvas. Mark continued to crawl, holding the rifle, his only anchor in the chaos. He got free of the canvas and continued to creep off to the side, glancing once over his shoulder. About half a dozen snakes gathered over the collapsed tent, writhing in a curled heap of black flesh and scales.
Mark was on his feet and running to the trucks. From the corner of tents, the trucks were lined up about a hundred feet away. Behind him, one of the snakes shriek
ed as it shot after him, sliding over the ground as though hovering above it. Mark wasn’t going to make it.
He twisted around to fire, but several more of the serpents lunged after him. He couldn’t hit them all, but maybe he could take one down with him. Just as he raised the rifle, a truck came roaring around the corner. It hit one of the serpents, and the animal swiveled on the ground, coiling up as a defense and capturing one of the other animals behind it.
Riki drove right past Mark, who jumped onto the truck, his arms over the edge of the bed as he tossed the rifle in. In one final burst of strength, he hauled his legs up and rolled into the bed, collapsing onto his back. Behind him, the serpents had grouped together. They were shooting after the truck like missiles, coming in from every angle. One nearly got into the bed. Mark lifted his rifle and fired several times, hitting the serpent in the body until it pulled back.
The truck rumbled through the camp and to the road leading up to the city. Behind him, the serpents slowed then stopped. They had speed but not endurance. They didn’t have the stomach for a long fight. He crumpled backward, his eyes to the stars as the truck raced up the dirt path, kicking up clouds in the dark.
41
The closer they got to the city, the worse Mark felt, as though all the adrenaline was leaving his body and pain took over the vacancy. The bouncing of the truck wasn’t helping. He pounded on the back window and motioned for Riki to pull over. Once she had, he crawled out of the bed of the truck and staggered over to the passenger door. He got in and shut the door with a groan. He had never been more aware of his body than he was right now.
“You okay?” she said.
“No, definitely not. If you don’t mind, I’d like to stop at the hospital.”
She leaned over suddenly and kissed him. It wasn’t erotic in any way, nothing sexual, just a small token of her affection. He wished he’d had the strength to kiss back.
She pulled away and drove again. Mark watched the passing jungle before them, dark and foreboding. He wondered what ancient people thought about it, whether it was a place haunted by demons or a source of a beauty and wonder. He didn’t know much about the original inhabitants of Fiji, but Kalou Island boasted one of the oldest civilizations in the world. They lived in unison with the jungle, taking only as much as they needed. They must’ve known about the snakes. How could they not? And again, he wondered if they were feared or worshipped. Perhaps both.
Mark closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, hoping he would be able to open his eyes again.
A calm, floating sensation overtook Mark. He saw himself as a young child of about seven or eight. He was playing at a house, but it didn’t appear like any house he remembered from his childhood. Perhaps somewhere buried so deep inside his mind that it was akin to forgetting it altogether. As he played, he hummed something, though he couldn’t tell what the tune was.
Mark’s eyes fluttered open. The lights of the city were near. Relief as he’d never felt before washed over him. He lazily rolled his head to the side and watched Riki. Her face was stern, determined. She didn’t seem to want any distractions or conversations. She had one goal and focused completely on it. He could see her that way in every facet of her life. A pit bull’s determination once she’d decided on something. That must be why she came all the way out here, why she made up elaborate lies and risked her life and reputation exposing lies she deemed greater than her own. Mark decided that despite her lies and manipulations, at her center, she was a good person.
“The hospital’s not far,” she said. “If I remember right.”
They entered the city limits, and Mark felt like he could weep if he allowed himself, but he didn’t. It would add nothing and wouldn’t even be cathartic. Nothing would be, other than lying somewhere quiet for as long as humanly possible.
“Do you notice something off?” Riki stared out her driver’s side window and the windshield.
Mark surveyed the buildings and cafés as they passed. Everything looked to be in order, until he noticed there were no people. Not a single one.
The windows of one of his favorite restaurants, a Nepalese place with posters of Mt. Everest on the walls, had been shattered. Food still sat on the tables, and a television was playing on the wall, but no one was inside. The streets were empty as well. Though very late at night, there should’ve been groups of drunken tourists trying to soak up as much of the city as they could before having to leave.
“Stop the truck and turn the engine off.”
“Why? The hospital’s—”
“Now, Riki.” The agitation in his voice surprised even him. “Please.”
She did as he asked. She parked on the side of the road and turned the engine off. They sat in silence a moment before she said, “What?”
“Look.”
As though invisible shadows dotted everything within the city, the buildings began to shift, as did parts of the surface streets. Riki’s mouth opened, about to say something, but she changed her mind. Mark watched one particular portion of the street farther out, beyond some of the streetlights, that appeared to move. It advanced closer to the light, and he caught just a glimpse of the serpent as it slithered across the street and into another building.
Riki swallowed and leaned back in the seat. “How is that even possible?”
“Craig was wrong. We didn’t disturb them. They’ve declared war on us.”
Now that they knew what to look for, they saw snakes everywhere. In doorways, crawling down from rooftops, in dark alleys, and wrapped tightly around themselves on the floors of shops. They had taken over the city.
“All those people…” she mumbled.
“There’s too many of them to kill all of them. They must’ve fled.”
“Where?”
Mark thought a moment. “The ocean. They probably took as many boats as they could and fled to one of the other islands.” He looked at her. “We need to do the same. There’s nothing here now.”
“How many of them do you think survived?”
“I don’t know. We can think about that later. We have to get off this island.” He peered out the windows again. “The truck’s too loud. We have to move quietly. Or we can gun it down to the docks and see if we can make it.”
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I’ll be getting out of this truck for anything.”
He looked out the passenger side window into a café. It appeared clear, nothing inside. “This place has a backdoor that goes right to the hotel. We can lock ourselves up in a room there on one of the higher floors. Figure out what to do next.”
She shook her head. “I think we should just stay here.”
“I don’t know that much about snakes, but I’m guessing eventually they’ll figure out we’re here with those damn tongues of theirs. I’d rather be in a hotel with small hallways and only one window in the room.”
They were quiet for a long time, watching the city before them writhing in the darkness.
“Okay,” she said.
“Come out on my side.” Mark, as slowly as possible, pulled the interior door handle. When the door loosened, he pushed it open inch by inch until there was enough room for him to get out. He slid off the seat and touched down lightly with his shoes. He held the door with one hand and with the other beckoned for Riki to follow. She hesitated at first then followed him out.
Once they were both outside, he pointed to their shoes. He slipped his off first, and she did the same. They walked as silently as possible into the café.
The interior was airy and lit well, belying the horror that must’ve happened here. Old drinks and plates of food littered the tables. Whatever had happened here occurred at least a day ago.
They sneaked around to the kitchen, and it appeared empty. The chrome countertops glistened in the light. The light. The electricity—if the snakes had attacked the plant as well, they wouldn’t have it for much longer. The last place in the world Mark wanted to be was in the middle of a darkened city with t
hose things.
They hurried past the kitchen, and Mark froze in his tracks. Riki was about to say something, but he held his finger to his lips. Slowly, his gaze drifted to the other side of the kitchen. A thick, black snake curled up tightly near the oven. Not as large as the other ones, perhaps ten or fifteen feet total and the width of a basketball. A baby.
A protrusion that looked like had swallowed a sack of bricks swelled the middle of the body. But through the thin translucent skin, Mark made out a hand and five digits pressing against the flesh of the snake, a motionless posture of the dead. The snake had eaten recently. But as Mark had seen, they would regurgitate their food in order to eat again. He didn’t understand why or care right now. All he cared about was getting past it without that thing moving.
“One step at a time, slowly. Don’t run,” he whispered.
They headed for the door. The tiled kitchen floor was cool through Mark’s socks, and he felt every crack and imperfection, as though the entire world became one large sensory experience of which he couldn’t ignore any part. He was acutely aware of the beads of sweat rolling down his back. Of the pain in his hips, back, and legs. The throbbing in his head that hadn’t gone away. Even his teeth had started to ache.
And as his gaze locked with the monster in front of him, all of that went away.
The snake’s eyes were the size of tennis balls, and they took him in passively. They displayed no emotion at all. Not even apathy. Just two black holes in the snake’s head that exhibited nothing. No personality, no soul, just an empty darkness that revealed nothing to the outside world.
Mark and Riki had reached the door when the snake’s tongue flicked out for the first time. Immediately afterward, as though it had opened its eyes for the first time, the snake began to uncoil.
“Run!”
They slammed through the doors and into the pantry. Riki inadvertently crashed into a shelf of pots, pans, and dishes, several tumbling to the floor. The noise, forgotten immediately as a minor inconvenience under normal circumstances, was deafening.
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