CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Tony

 

“Hold on, Mr. Sarto,” one of the men said. “Be very still until we can get this door open.”

Be very still? Was he kidding? I hadn’t moved a centimeter in what seemed like forever. Sweat stung my eyes, forcing me to periodically squeeze them shut. Each time I did, I was afraid the snake would strike. I didn’t know if it was the confined space, the snake who wouldn’t calm the fuck down, or the intense fear of it striking, but I felt like I was about to pass out.

The snake had lowered itself a little bit, no longer standing on almost half its length, but it remained hooded and occasionally hissing.

A guy with a blowtorch worked on getting the passenger side door off while Jeo, several security guards, and the police stood back watching—at least, that’s what I could tell from my peripheral vision. Breath coming in soft, quick pants, I struggled to remain frozen in place while my pulse raced and my heart pounded. I thought I might vomit, but I knew if I did, the snake would get me, so I held it in as best I could and prayed for the guy with the blowtorch to hurry.

Hung peered into the driver’s side window. “Just a few more minutes, buddy. Hang in there.”

The car was still warm inside, but not as warm. Somebody had to have had the heat on high before I got in, probably for the comfort of the snake. Wouldn’t want it to hibernate or something when it had a duty to perform.

I suddenly realized that at some point during this hellish experience the sun had gone down, and I hadn’t even realized it.

“Get me out of here, Jeo,” I said, close to my breaking point.

“Hey. T. It’s okay. They’re almost done, I promise.”

I heard the torch shut off and a voice muffled by the closed passenger window. “I think we can get it off now.”

They started tugging at the door, and with every motion of the car, no matter how slight, I thought my heart would stop. The snake reared up fully again, and I stiffened in terror.

“Motherfuckers, don’t move the fucking car! Holy Jesus!” Hung yelled.

One of the cops shouted to me, “Mr. Sarto, we’re going to open the door on the count of three, and when we do, my partner is going to yank you out of there as quickly as he can. Be ready and don’t struggle.”

I held my breath, every muscle in my body screaming from the long period of holding still. “One…two…” The door came off and cold air whooshed into the car, drying my sweat. “Three!”

“Get out get out get out…” Hung chanted as the cop grabbed hold of me and yanked me out the door at the exact time the snake struck. It all happened within a matter of seconds and then I was out of the car and being dragged along the sidewalk as Sheila moved in with a long pole to trap the cobra. She put it into a plastic container and shut the lid.

I lay on my back, staring up at the night sky, tears running into my ears. Battery operated lights had been set up around the area and quite a few more people had gathered than I’d thought. I was shaking like a leaf in gale force winds and felt unbearably vulnerable.

Hung knelt on the pavement beside me. “T. You okay? They’ve got the snake.”

“Excuse me, sir. We need to check him over.” A paramedic nudged Hung out of the way and started cutting at my clothes. “Hi, Tony, I’m Joe. Were you bitten?” he asked. His partner settled on my other side and dug around in a large satchel.

“I-I don’t know. I don’t think so.” I felt sick.

“There’s blood on his hand,” the other paramedic said, and I suddenly became aware of a stinging sensation near my thumb. I held it up and looked at it. My heart jumped. He was right: I was bleeding a little.

“He might have scraped it on something when you dragged him out,” Hung said from behind him.

“The snake struck. We have to treat it as a potential bite for his safety,” Joe said.

“How did this happen?” one of the cops asked as Joe checked my vitals.

“Karl Bruder kept snakes. He got someone who works for him to put this one in the car and lock me in.”

Joe and his partner strapped me onto the gurney.

“How do you feel, Tony?” Joe asked.

“Shaky. A little out of it.”

They locking the stretcher in a raised position before rolling me toward the back of an open ambulance. Hung jogged along beside me.

“I also feel kind of dizzy,” I said. “And sick to my stomach.”

“We’re getting you to the hospital,” Joe said, and then lowered his voice to talk to his partner once they’d gotten me situated in the ambulance with Hung crammed into a corner. I heard the word “antivenin” before Joe climbed up and the doors shut.

“What’s the hold up?” Joe shouted to his partner a moment later when we still sat, engine idling.

“A lady from the FBI gave me the number of a doctor who has the antivenin. It’ll save us from having to see if the zoo has any.”

The ambulance began to move.

A fine sheen of sweat glistened on Hung’s forehead. He kept his hand on my shoulder and every so often patted me and said, “Everything’s gonna be okay, T.”

I was just glad to be out of that fucking car.