Sarah ran from the terrace, leaving Val behind, to where she heard shouts and yelling coming from inside the house.
Once through the French windows, she had to push past a crowd of reporters and “the curious” who had somehow got into the house and were now all crammed inside, drawn by the screams.
She had a thought: Jack’s in here somewhere. Something’s happened?
Pranks turned dangerous?
“Excuse me,” she said, roughly pushing into the crowd. People seemed glued to their spots, wanting to be there to see, but also — apparently — not wanting to get too close.
When she got to the front she saw Alyssia and Karina hugging each other, as if recoiling. And Basil, his arms outstretched, pointing, hands waving in the air as if they simply couldn’t stay still due to fright.
And then, a few feet away, Jack.
“It’s in there!” Basil said loudly. “Just inside.”
Loud enough that his impromptu audience could hear every word clearly.
Sarah had no choice. She turned to a woman next to her. No reporter, but a matronly type, handbag clutched, drawn by curiosity and now standing — uninvited of course — in the Hill House hallway.
“What’s in there?” Sarah asked.
And then the woman turned as if that was the most idiotic question ever, lips pursed, eyes wide.
The woman could barely get the word out.
“The snake!”
And, for a second, Sarah had to wonder: Some little garden snake wanders in from the garden, and creates all this …
Tumult?
But then she saw Jack turn, look at her. His face grim.
Maybe … not a little garden snake.
Though the crowd seemed locked in their positions, Sarah slowly walked beside Jack.
Basil meanwhile kept up his keening, horrified noises, now with his arms tight around both his daughter and wife, but also gazing out at the crowd.
“The biggest snake I’ve ever seen!”
Sarah said her next words slowly.
“Jack — what do we do?”
“Already called Alan. Guess you must have some kind of wild animal control here. But think — I better take a look.”
Instinctively her hand went to Jack’s arm.
“D-don’t you think we should just wait?” She looked around at the crowd. “Maybe get all these people out of here?”
“Maybe. But—”
Basil released his sheltering hug of Alyssia and Karina and took a step towards Jack.
“What if there are more snakes, maybe all around the house!”
This brought the appropriate reaction from the crowd. Gasps, even a few moans.
Sarah even saw a few people at the back of the group, melt to the doorway, and then disappear.
Enough for them.
Jack turned to Sarah.
“I better take a look.”
Sarah had to ask. “You’ve done this before?”
He smiled at that. “Not exactly. Similar, yes. But, well, not precisely this scenario.”
And he took a step towards the open double doorway leading into the great entrance hall.
*
Jack had hoped to enter the room alone, but he should have guessed that Sarah would follow.
He stepped slowly, carefully.
In truth, he didn’t know much about interacting with wild animals, except he guessed it was good to be slow, steady.
You don’t want to startle anything.
And then, behind Sarah, a few more brave news people, cameras running, and also a few people from the village.
All they needed were pitchforks, and the movie scene would be complete.
“Jack — be careful,” Sarah said, just steps away.
A nod.
And he looked around the room. Small, sputtering fire in the fireplace. The room quiet. The grandfather clock ticking, making the most noise in the room.
Even the crowd of reporters and residents had grown deathly quiet.
Jack kept looking.
The snake could be anywhere. Behind the massive sofa, curled up behind a chair, maybe hidden by drapes.
Snakes were good at hiding, weren’t they?
Basil had entered. Having raised the alarm, he now came close as well, shoulder to shoulder with Sarah.
Something about that … interesting, Jack thought.
But as Jack kept scanning the room, he saw no snake. No movement. And, with a look at Basil, had to wonder.
Was he at an age where maybe … you imagine things?
Jack said the words gently.
“Basil … where exactly did you see the snake?”
And, as Basil scanned the room, he, too, seemed confused, his head craning left, then right.
“B-by the book case … then it started moving. Right towards me …”
The brave lot who came in with Jack made a noise at that.
“Well,” Jack said, “I don’t—”
At which point the bald-headed guy who previously wanted a piece of Gordon McCloud when they tussled at the gate, now barged forward, pointed up to the ceiling, and bellowed: “There it is! I see it!”
*
Sarah stood at Jack’s shoulder as they both looked up to where the bald man had pointed.
And even before she saw it, her skin sprouted icy goosebumps.
A snake.
This snake — grey, shiny skin coiled around the glass tear drops of the great ceiling light — had to be …
Six feet … seven feet …
Eight feet long.
The words escaped of their own accord.
“God, Jack.”
For a moment, no one in the room moved. But it took only seconds for most of “the curious” and the reporters to back away, putting a good deal of space between them and the snake.
Sarah took a step backwards too.
But Jack didn’t. Instead, she saw him scanning the room, craning left and right.
The snake, meanwhile, seemed to have noticed it had an audience, and its triangular head reared up, touching the ceiling, tongue flicking, eyes on the crowd.
Then, it started to descend from its coiled perch around the light.
It lowered its arrow-shaped head as if taking aim, its body extending, and Sarah could see it rippling as it slowly uncoiled from the rattling chandelier
She reached out; grabbed Jack’s arm. “Jack — back up!”
He turned around.
“Got to get these people out of here.”
While some had left the room, a few stayed, clustered together, as if mesmerised by the sight; frozen with fear.
Or just so curious that they couldn’t move away.
“We don’t know what that snake can do, how fast it can move, or if—”
But he never got to finish the sentence as finally the uncoiling snake had extended itself so far, that now it slid free of the chandelier, the light rocking back and forth, glass tear drops rattling ominously.
And the snake — taller, longer than Jack — fell from above, down to the floor …