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“My coworker has been acting really weird.
His name is Simon. We’ve been working together for about two years. Not too long, but long enough where I can tell when something’s wrong.
Our line of work forces us to be closer than I would ever want to be with another person, even my husband. We’ve waded through the sloppy wetlands of the Everglades, sunk into the mangrove swamps of Costa Rica, and got tangled up in the vivid green vines in the jungles of Brazil, all in the hope of seeing some cool animals.
I’ve been catching insects and reptiles since gas was a dollar and my mom drove a Saturn with a bench seat. Snakes were always my favorite. Well, they are my favorite. No matter where we end up, I can’t help but spend a third of my time alone, flipping over rocks and swiping up some snakes, each one different in their own, beautiful way.
Today was no different. I was back in the Congo having a ball following the clues scattered on the jungle floor. It was only after I looked up to find myself completely alone when I realized something was wrong. It wasn’t dark yet, but the sun was surely on its way down.
“Simon?” I yelled, cupping my hands around my mouth.
No response. I spotted his familiar footsteps in the dirt and followed them. Simon never lets me get far. Even when he thinks I’m looking at a boulder for a little too long, I hear his annoyed scoff. “Molly,” he says, one octave before a full-blown yell. “Keep up!”
As I searched, I kept my wits about me and my senses sharp. Experienced as I am, I’m no match for Mother Nature. Only a fool would cross her. I did think it was rude that our producer, Tim, didn’t think to wait, either.
Simon and I are always together on conservation trips, but our producers change all the time. We work with different universities and other scholar networks, even pharmaceutical companies. Tim is joining us to shoot for The National Wildlife Conservation. I tried not to take it personally as I followed their trail, using all of my willpower to not explore the dense, forest brush around me.
“Oh, thank God,” I said, the words falling from my mouth as soon as I spotted Simon’s shiny bald head a little ways out, between vines and overgrown leaves. “Simon?”
Still no answer. I continued until I caught up to my colleagues, who were seemingly mesmerized by a muddy stream. I walked up right behind Simon’s stiff body and gasped.
Snakeskin.
Not just any snakeskin. An endless coil of the flaky membrane sprawled across the stream and into the forest, the rest too far and too meshed into the jungle to see its entirety.
My stomach sank.
“This isn’t a stream. These are tracks.”
They snapped back to reality at the sound of my voice. They looked at me like I sprouted wings.
“Molly,” Simon said before standing upright. Tim looked like he just woke up, with tired, red eyes and the slouch of an old woman with osteoporosis. He made it seem like the camera weighed a ton.
Whatever slithered through the mud must’ve done so within the past few days. The rainwater filled it like a trough, inviting frogs and other small reptiles to congregate near the edges.
“These tracks, did a car roll through here? I’ve never seen snake tracks this size. We need to get out of here.”
I turned to Simon, who seemed to be back to normal. No longer half-lidded but spry and curious. Still, panic took hold of him the longer we hung around.
“Ready?” I asked them both. They nodded in agreement before I started to jog.
We scurried through what seemed like an endless barrier of leaves before reaching a clearing by the edge of the forest. I placed my hands on my hips and dug my fingers into my stomach, heaving, trying to catch my breath. Simon looked the same except his head darted from the left to the right, concerned.
“Tim?” he called out. “Oh, no.”
My blood ran cold. Why didn’t he follow us?
I sprinted into the forest before Simon could stop me. I heard him take after me, leaves and branches snapping beneath his boots. I didn’t care about the branches and plants scraping my face. Poison oak is a walk in the park compared to a search and rescue mission. No matter how experienced you are, Mother Nature has other plans for you. The thought flooded me with dread as I approached the tracks once again.
Anxiety turned to hope as two angels in the distance walked towards me. Our village hosts! They know this jungle inside and out!
“Help! I need help! Our producer is missing!”
I stopped and turned around, expecting Simon to be right behind me. Instead, I was completely alone. Shaken, I still had faith that Simon could handle himself better than Tim. Please let him be okay. I circled through prayers in my head, hoping Tim would turn up. A lawsuit was the best outcome of this nightmare scenario.
I still held out hope. Our hosts responded with urgency, picking up their pace to meet me near the tracks. My senses, keen and detail-oriented, weakened as the day turned to night. All I knew is that we needed to find our producer before whatever made those tracks got hungry.
Our hosts, Alicia, a thin, tan woman with glowing skin, and her sister, Carmine, equally beautiful and equipped with gear, finally caught up to me. A wooden spear hung at Carmine’s side. I prayed we did not have to use it.
“Did my friend come and get you?” I asked. They nodded before signaling to me and charging into the forest. I kept so close to Alicia I stepped on the back of her boots by accident, forcing us both to the ground. Alicia and her sister looked at me, tight-lipped and severe.
“We know where they are,” Alicia said. She looked away, gaze focused on something far in the jungle. “We need to move quickly.”
They ran like gazelles, every muscle proving its purpose. I struggled to keep up, admittedly much less in shape than our hosts. My mind flickered back to the size of that skin. There were a hundred questions that needed answering.
“Where are they?” I asked, my lungs blazing. “Where are we going?”
We were deeper in the jungle than I ever intended on being. As the dark of night took hold, all I could see were bugs. I became one with the hordes of flying insects, ignoring them as they bounced and buzzed off of every visible part of my body. They were the only thing I could hear. It was getting harder and harder to see Alicia and Carmine, clearly experts at navigating in the dark.
I pushed on, drenched in sweat and sporting 20-30 more wounds than I had this morning. Just as my shins were splitting in two, all of the insects stopped moving at once. Millions and millions of bugs, buzzing in place.
Then, like a hive mind, the bugs divided themselves and made a clearing for me. Fear coursed through every inch of my body. I couldn’t move.
Alicia and Carmine stood at the end of the clearing. They looked otherworldly beautiful, even in the soft dim of the flashlights we held. They didn’t even seem to have struggled after coming so far.
I thought of Simon and Tim and denied my fear. I walked forward. They held my gaze expectantly until they parted for me, implying I should continue ahead. Their eyes softened slightly.
Everything happened so fast I haven’t stopped to think. I worried that we’ve gone much too far, but my doubts faded. It’s been at least two hours since I’ve last seen my colleagues, one of which is my best friend, and in that time they could’ve strayed even farther.
But it seems like Alicia and Carmine are certain. There must be a cabin, a clearing, something. I continued on.
There he was.
There was Simon’s shiny bald head. Except it wasn’t shiny. It was covered in dirt and grime, and it wasn’t attached to his body. His wide, terrified eyes looked straight at me. His suffering was apparent; His screams were immortalized by rigor mortis.
The bile in my stomach lurched itself out of my throat, coating my chin in hot, green vomit. My spine was ripped clean out, my knees broken. I fell over, limp with grief and terror. I threw up a second time when I looked up to confirm Tim shared the same fate.
“Don’t be disgusting,” said a rogue voice.
It wasn’t long until I realized I was duped.
I begged for my life before I knew who I was begging to. A boom sounded off, slow and threatening, as if the Earth was splitting into pieces. It was a roar with an interesting vibrato. An animal call, the loudest I’ve ever heard. It reminded me of a purr.
A woman with the bottom half of a snake, decorated in blinding green and gold scales, slithered into view. In a moment, she disappeared. My eyes caught onto the fuzzy patches of reality. She was camouflaged. But this went beyond camouflage. She was making it very, very clear that I was prey.
She approached Simon and Tim. Her shimmering scales reflected the image of their heads. They were being used as decorations. They sat on the top of either side of a massive throne made of human remains.
My hosts were long gone. All that was behind me was a thick barrier of insects waiting for a reason to strike. Simon, a husband and father of two teenage boys. They’ll never see him again. Tim just turned 31. Their bodies will never be recovered.
The metallic scent of blood flooded my senses as she drew near. I couldn’t help but look into her eyes. They were ochre in color with one defiant black slit coursing down the middle. It would be a privilege to die to this creature. She spoke to me.
“Would you like to become beautiful?” she asked.