Camm did not move, but folded her arms over her chest, her face tight. “What in the world are you guys doing here? The last we heard, you had everything under control. Is this what you mean by control?”
He sighed inwardly. The implication was that Swift Creek was manipulating the situation, maybe had even caused the spider incident.
He responded, “Like the FBI, we’re still investigating.”
“Investigating what?” Cal demanded.
Rick looked around, searching for the right words, and then pointed at the retreating spiders. “Things like that, and like the disappearing kids. We are trying to keep all these things from happening, but we don’t understand it, let alone know how to stop it.”
Camm looked mulish. “You could have warned us.”
“We did warn you. We warned you to stay away.” He saw his response hit home. She couldn’t deny she had been warned. It was obvious she didn’t know how to reply.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, there is stuff going on here related to what you two experienced last year in the mansion, except now it appears to be spreading. Some sort of crossover is happening randomly in many different places, but the phenomena do seem to be limited to Searles Valley. These events used to be contained within the mansion, but now they can happen any place in the valley. Sometimes things that cross over become agitated.” He paused. “I believe that is what you just experienced with the spiders.”
Agent Allen frowned at him. “You sound like Mr. What’s-his-name, your boss, back at the mansion. Cross over from where? Where did those giant spiders come from? What is happening to the people who disappear? Do they also cross over?”
By this time, Martha and Lenny had walked over to join them. Rick knew these new kids had no idea what was occurring in the valley, and he was sure they weren’t supposed to be hearing these questions, let alone the answers. But they also weren’t supposed to have seen what they had just seen. He decided to buy himself some time to think.
“Can we get out of the sun, at least? It’s hotter than blazes out here.” He saw the two from Trona roll their eyes at each other. “Okay,” he grumbled. “This is not hot to you, but it is to me.” He led the way over to the shade of the trees, close to where the Camaro was parked.
Rick stood with his back to the trees, facing the other five. Expelling a large breath of air, he studied his shoes for a moment. He knew he didn’t have to explain anything. He could, if he wanted, just haul them all out of Trona without another word.
But they had just seen something that needed explaining. Any answer would be better than letting them speculate wildly among themselves. Besides, he was becoming a little enamored with Linda Allen. He didn’t want to look bad in her eyes.
Normally, he wasn’t too hot on the FBI, but Linda was attractive, savvy, and physically fit, which was important to him. He also liked her spunky personality. She had stood up to him at the mansion, and he respected that. In her own way, she seemed partial toward him. He could see something happening between the two of them. He didn’t want to antagonize her now.
He kicked the sand with his black Sketchers and looked up at his audience. What he saw alarmed him—they were all looking directly over his head with horrified expressions on their faces. Automatically going into combat mode, he whirled around, dropping down onto one knee as he removed his service revolver and pointed it directly above him in one smooth motion.
Glancing up, he hesitated only a fraction of a second. “What the . . .”
They were the last two words he ever spoke.
X
The gargantuan snake swayed above them, its round obsidian eyes fixated on Mr. Roberts. The others stood paralyzed behind him. With lightning speed, the head struck downward, its gaping mouth enveloping Mr. Roberts’s head and right shoulder as it closed over him, lifting him high up in the air. His legs kicked wildly.
Almost simultaneously with the strike, Agent Allen began firing shots point blank into the side of the snake’s head. The snake dropped Mr. Roberts and swung hurriedly back into the cover of the trees, where it had been hiding before the attack. Agent Allen followed, emptying her gun into the retreating snake. Cal and Lenny ran after her, keeping the snake at a safe distance. Agent Allen yelled, “Stay back! Stay back!”
“Don’t shoot it! Don’t shoot it!” Camm shouted.
Agent Allen wasn’t listening. She was busy reloading her gun.
Camm was familiar with the results of shooting these creatures that had crossed over. It made them angry, without doing significant harm. At least that was the case with the green rat.
Agent Allen, Cal, and Lenny disappeared into the trees. Camm knelt next to Mr. Roberts’s supine figure, and gently picked up his hand. He lay looking up into the sky. Martha came to kneel on his other side, her trembling hand pressed against her mouth. Tears dripped down her cheeks. Lifting her gaze from the injured man, she whispered, “What do we do?”
Mr. Roberts had two large puncture wounds, spaced more than a foot apart. The snake’s bite ran diagonally from the upper wound in his chest to the lower wound in his abdomen.
Camm couldn’t tell if his heart had been punctured, but he was bleeding profusely from both wounds. Along with the leaking blood, steamy green venom with a sulfuric smell drained from both puncture holes. The amount of venom injected into his system must have been enormous. Something about the venom seemed familiar.
Images of thick green fluid encased in crystal bullets rose in her mind. She saw again the green venom dripping from the rat’s wounds, wounds inflicted by her own hand. Camm’s stomach clenched with old feelings of panic. She trembled, not just from memories, but from the horror of what Mr. Roberts was going through. She gripped his hand tighter.
Mr. Roberts was gasping for breath, his pupils fixed and dilated. It was impossible to tell if he was conscious or not. He was sweating profusely and had turned a white marble color, except for his veins, which protruded dark blue under his skin. Little tremors ran through him, though his body was rigid and stiff.
Camm gazed down at him helplessly, not knowing what to do. She could try stopping the bleeding by pushing against the wounds, or maybe, she should suck out the venom like she had seen on TV. The huge size of the puncture holes made the TV procedure impossible. Besides, the stinking, green venom sizzled in the man’s blood like acid. She did not want that venom in her mouth, and she had no gloves to protect her hands if she pressed on the wounds. She felt absolutely useless, forced to watch Mr. Roberts suffer with no way to help.
Martha was looking at her with tear-soaked eyes, a look of confusion on her face. She apparently had no idea what to do either. After about thirty seconds, the trembling stopped. Mr. Roberts gasped twice, his eyes rolled back under his eyelids, and his swollen blue tongue lolled out of his mouth.
Camm’s eyes stung with unshed tears. Slowly, she placed Mr. Robert’s limp hand gently by his side. Looking over at Martha, she said, “I think he’s dead.”
Martha started to cry again. “But we didn’t even do anything to try to help him.”
Camm helped Martha up and they clung to each other for comfort. Camm shook her head, trying to convince herself. “What could we have done? It happened so quickly. How could anyone survive a bite like that? The venom is still bubbling like acid in his wounds.”
They stood together, silently staring down at the dead man, soaked in blood and venom.
Martha was the first to speak. “Camm, what is going on here? What are we getting into? This whole thing is a horrible nightmare, and you know things you haven’t bothered to share with me. I think I should have been warned about this place before you brought me here.” As Martha spoke, she looked earnestly into Camm’s eyes, searching for the truth.
Camm was wordless, finally realizing the terrible mistake she had made in bringing Martha and Lenny to Trona. What was I thinking? What did I hope to do?
She suddenly felt very vulnerable.
Before she could resp
ond to Martha, Camm saw the other three heading back, running all-out toward them. Lenny was yelling something she couldn’t understand, but she didn’t stop to worry about it. The snake was following right behind them.
It was immense. Longer than a semi-truck and bigger around than a car tire, this creature would have no problem swallowing a person whole. The stone-like head, evil but expressionless, was raised five or six feet off the ground. The undulating body propelled it forward at an alarming speed. There was no doubt it intended to do more harm.
“To the car! Go to the car!” Agent Allen pointed as she yelled at the girls. Camm and Martha scrambled into Agent Allen’s Mustang as fast as they could, Martha in the backseat. Just as Agent Allen slammed her car door shut, the snake struck her side of the vehicle.
The force of the strike heaved the car up onto two wheels and pushed it sideways several feet. Martha screamed one short, loud blast, and then placed her hands over her mouth. Her eyes almost bulged out of her head, but she seemed to understand this was not the time to lose control and screaming did not help.
The car fell back on all four tires with a heavy thud. Camm felt the impact from her tailbone clear up her spine. She started to whisper, under her breath, “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.”
Agent Allen was digging in her pockets, trying to extract her keys. It seemed to take forever, each second dragging on and on.
Camm looked past Agent Allen to where the snake was bringing its long, cylindrical body into a striking coil. The coiling process brought the head higher and higher above them. The image was mesmerizing. Its smooth scales were covered by symmetrical diamond designs that shone with a delicate spring green color. It would have been beautiful had it not been a giant snake preparing to eat them.
Agent Allen finally discovered her keys still in the ignition, where she had left them. Then, in her haste to grab them, she knocked the keys to the floor. Snatching them up, she struggled to push the key back into the ignition.
Camm continued to whisper, “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.”
Camm felt Martha’s light hand on her shoulder. “Camm, that’s not helping,” she said quietly. Camm nodded her head and closed her mouth. It was not that she was trying to hurry Agent Allen as much as she was voicing her anxiety.
The key finally slid into the key hole and the engine started up. The snake had now completely coiled itself and was rearing back, the head swaying from side to side, in preparation for another powerful strike.
Agent Allen slammed the car into gear and stomped on the gas. The back wheels spun furiously in the sand and gravel, but the car only inched forward, slowly fishtailing from side to side. Dust billowed up from the rear tires as they dug themselves deeper into the ground.
Camm took a breath. She knew how to drive on desert sand. Turning to Agent Allen, she said with more calmness than she felt, “Let up a little on the gas. You’ll just get us stuck in the sand if the tires keep spinning.”
Agent Allen nodded and released the gas pedal from the floorboards.
The snake stopped moving its head from side to side and pulled back further for its strike. At the same time, the tires quit spinning and finally caught hold. As the Mustang began moving, the rear tires popped up out of the holes they had dug, and the car jumped forward.
At that instant, the snake struck with blinding speed, hitting the moving target on its rear quarter-panel. The force of the strike spun the car two hundred and seventy degrees. Both Camm and Martha yelped. The speed of the strike was amazing. The head seemed to disappear from the snake’s body and reappear, fangs and all, striking the car.
Agent Allen drove straight forward, a determined look fixed on her face. Her jaw was set so firmly that Camm could see the muscles bulging at the side of her head. A large, blue vein pulsed at her temple. The car lurched into the sagebrush with the snake in hot pursuit.
The snake was on their right side and only slightly behind, which prevented a turn to the right—that would have taken them back to the paved road and out to the Trona Road highway. Instead, Agent Allen was now forced to drive straight ahead into the open desert.
Still, Camm felt some relief. Even driving through the desert, the car should move faster than the snake. No one had thought to put on a seatbelt, and they all bounced around inside the car, slamming against the sides and roof as they slowly put a little distance between themselves and the pursuing snake. Camm finally got her seat belt on and saw Agent Allen doing the same, one-handed. There was no time to check on Martha.
Agent Allen desperately worked to steer the car around the larger bushes while going as fast as she dared across the desert terrain. The desert floor looked flat, but was filled with holes, gaps, rocks, and all sorts of obstacles not intended for automobile travel.
Agent Allen tried to serpentine her way through the brush, hopefully making it harder for the snake to follow. But it soon became clear, they couldn’t out serpentine a serpent.
One large desert holly bush was impossible to avoid. As they crashed straight through, Camm felt the front right tire smash into a boulder hidden on the other side of the bush. The boulder did not give, so the tire did. The impact against the boulder was bone jarring. Camm’s head crashed into the roof, making her bite her tongue. Feeling dizzy and seeing red stars, she pulled her seat belt tighter.
From the way the car was now handling, there was no doubt the right front tire was flat and the rim probably bent. It had been difficult enough driving through the desert brush on four good tires. Now, riding on a damaged wheel and rim, it was impossible to get up any real speed and keep the car under control at the same time.
Camm looked behind. Her stomach tightened. The snake was gaining again.
“Camm!” Martha hollered. “What happened to Cal and Lenny?”
Everything had happened so fast. This was the first chance Camm had had to wonder about the boys. Frantically twisting this way and that, she tried to see out of every window at the same time, hoping to catch sight of Cal’s Camaro. As she turned to her left to look out the back window, her knee hit the stick shift, knocking the car out of gear. Slipping into neutral, the car slowed precipitously. The soft sand was sucking them to a stop, as if holding them in anticipation of the snake. The desert seemed to be working against them.
Agent Allen growled in a warning voice, “Camm!”
The snake approached the back window with amazing speed. Agent Allen thrust in the clutch and jammed the car back into gear. Carefully working the clutch, she got the car rolling again just as the snake struck.
Staring out the back, Camm was entranced by its dead black eyes, gaping mouth, and long-dagger fangs. The car jumped forward and pulled to the right, moving out of the snake’s range just as its maw reached them. It raised its venomous head and continued its mad pursuit.
At that moment, Cal’s Camaro came bouncing through the sagebrush behind the snake. Camm felt relieved, then worried. Cal was putting himself in danger. What could he do? She knew Cal would never abandon her. There was no one in the world she depended on or trusted more than Cal. But, once Cal reached the snake, what help could he possibly offer?
Camm turned to face forward just as the Mustang bounded over a berm, and then sailed unimpeded down into a deep, dry wash that none of them had seen coming. They were all thrown upward as the car dropped down the almost vertical walls into the ravine. As the car hit the sandy bottom, the front bumper dug into the ground in front of them, sending sand flying over the hood and across the windshield. For a moment, Agent Allen drove blindly. Without thinking, she instinctively slammed on the brakes, locking up the tires.
As the little car tried to brake, it slid to the left. Sand grabbed the wheels and the car’s momentum caused it to roll. This time all three occupants screamed. Camm couldn’t tell how many times the car rolled, but it seemed as if the outside world was spinning around and around.
As the car rolled, Camm was spun, jerked, banged, and bruised. Trying to hold herself s
teady, she pushed against the roof, while her seat belt kept her in place. Agent Allen clung desperately to the steering wheel, her seat belt stretched across her lap. Sand and dirt washed over them as they rolled across the deep ravine, making them look like a horizontal whirlwind.
When the car came to rest, it lay on its right side, Camm’s side. Camm was acutely aware she had no idea where the snake was, only that it now had time to catch up with them. Agent Allen must have been thinking the same thing because she immediately released her seat belt and promptly dropped on top of Camm, pinning her to the door. As Camm fought to release her own seat belt, they both struggled to get free of each other and see where they were.
Extricating themselves from the tangle of arms and legs, they stood crammed together in the front of the car, staring out the now vertical windshield. Martha was rolled up in an impossible position in the back. Wearing no seatbelt, she appeared to be unconscious. Glass fragments were scattered everywhere.
Through the windshield, Camm finally saw the snake. It seemed to be looking at her as it swayed back and forth. Its head rose higher as it coiled for a strike. Camm realized a direct hit on the windshield could pop out the glass, leaving them defenseless from the monster reptile.
Jammed together with Agent Allen, stuck between the passenger seat and roof of the car, neither of them had room to maneuver. There was no apparent way to escape the car, let alone the snake. The Mustang, which had been their means of escape, now became a small cage.
Agent Allen began to reload her gun, preparing for another assault on the snake.
Camm glanced at her and shook her head. “I don’t think the gun will do much good. We let loose a whole arsenal on that rat, and it hardly phased it.”
For the first time, she saw desperation in Agent Allen’s face. “What do we do?”
Camm felt a strange calmness come over her. She shrugged and smiled. “I don’t know, but we’re not alone. Let’s hope the cavalry gets here in time.”
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