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Dead River Gulch, Nevada
Joseph Shadow-talker awakened with a start. Cold dry scales slid across his right thigh. He stiffened, realizing a snake crawled beneath the blanket. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.
Swallowing hard, he kept his breathing calm. Not certain whether the snake was venomous or not, he took precaution because rattlesnakes were indigenous to the area.
The snake burrowed between him and his new lady-friend he had brought home from The Waterhole Bar and Grill the night before. He searched his mind to recall her name.
Misty, he remembered. Like the fog drifting through his head.
Joe drank from time to time, but seldom did he overindulge. Last night had been an exception. He and Misty had been plastered when he brought her home. They staggered down the hall, undressing one another, and collapsed on his bed. The details of what transpired between them remained a mystery. If they had made love, he was ashamed to say that he didn’t recall it.
He lay still, careful not to make any sudden movements. He scanned his bed from his neck down. The faint morning light shone through the Venetian blinds. Not much light filtered in, but enough to see a coiled image if one should be there.
He was relieved he didn’t see any snakes on top of the blanket. One under the blanket was more than he needed. Not knowing where it hid enhanced their danger. Several minutes passed without any further movement from the reptile. The snake must have found an inconspicuous hiding place near Misty. As long as she remained still, the snake wasn’t likely to bite. He decided to peel back the blanket and carefully slide out of bed.
Joe moved the blanket halfway down his chest when he noticed a second snake—a rattler—poised upon his chest. Coiled tightly, its head rose. Its forked tongue flicked. Cold, unforgiving eyes peered into his. The rattles buzzed with vehement disdain. Every muscle in his body tightened.
He didn’t fear rattlesnakes. In fact, he often caught them whenever he found them in his yard and gently moved them farther into the wilderness away from his ranch. Several times he had traveled to Texas and participated in the Rattler Roundup. On a dare, he had seated himself in a glass tub with twenty rattlers. Not a record-breaking feat by any means, but not something a timid person attempted, either. But this involuntary situation was different. The two snakes in his bed were no accident. They were placed here and were quite agitated. Any sudden movement on his part was certain to make the one on his chest strike.
While the snake kept its attention focused on him, he slid his hand toward Misty and hoped to wake her quietly without disturbing the other snake. His hand met her cold, stiff flesh. No warmth of life greeted his touch.
She was dead.
Sometime during the night she must have moved. She must have been too drunk and asleep to feel the snakebite. The poison flowed through her bloodstream and stopped her heart.
Anguish overcame his need to protect her. She had been the first woman he had dated in three years. He had chanced getting close to her, and now, just as quickly, she was gone. He always believed himself to be an isolated spirit, one to venture the path of life alone, and fate had carved it in granite for him to read.
His telephone rang on the bedside table. The rattler never reacted to the sound.
Its harsh eyes stared at him.
Unable to reach the phone without getting bit, he waited for the answering machine to pick up. After the beep, no one left a message. A long pause of silence waited on the other end. Right before the person hung up, he was certain he had heard soft laughter.
The phone call wasn’t someone trying to get in touch with him, but a calloused, ruthless person hoping to alarm Misty or Joe into jumping and provoking the rattlesnakes to bite. The caller wanted them dead. He had been halfway successful.
Since Misty was already dead, she couldn’t have reached for the phone. His failure to answer entertained the caller that perhaps Joe was dead, too.
Joe stared into the snake’s cold eyes. It lowered its head and ceased buzzing. Although the snake was alert, it was calming. His ability to remain still diminished his threat to the reptile.
Still holding the blanket at his sides, he tightened his hands into fists around the wool material. The snake didn’t detect the slight movement and settled into a more rested position.
Joe held his breath and bit his lower lip. With lightning speed, he looped the blanket up, over, and scooped it beneath the rattler, trapping it inside the blanket before it had a chance to strike. He shoved the captured snake off his chest to the foot of the bed, and then he spun his legs to the edge of the bed. Before his feet touched the floor, he flipped on the bedside lamp.
Along the far edge of the floor, a third rattlesnake was stretched out, crawling away. Joe shook his head. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to ensure he’d get bitten more than once if he panicked and ran. Clearly, the person responsible didn’t know Joe’s nature. He lived harmoniously with nature and her creatures.
Joe remained cautious because the house probably contained more than three snakes.
He peered over his shoulder and looked at Misty’s nude back. Blonde hair spilled over her shoulders. Her ivory skin had tinted pale blue.
Closing his eyes, he tried to remember what they had done after they left the bar. He had let her drive his old pickup home because she wasn’t as drunk as he was. No one had followed them along the gravel roads. He didn’t recall any car lights on the road behind them, and besides, the new moon prevented anyone from driving with their headlights off. The ditches along the narrow roads were too steep and gullied for someone to risk accidentally running off the road into a ravine.
Joe’s head pounded. He rubbed his temples to ease the tension, but a hangover wasn’t easy to dismiss.
Opening the nightstand drawer, he pulled out his Ruger 9mm. Rattlesnakes might not be the only danger lurking inside his house. He stood and stepped toward the center of the room. When he moved, a chorus of rattlesnakes buzzed beneath the bed. Their warning was just that. Stay away. He distanced himself from their hiding place and headed to the hallway.
From the open door he could see the living room. He pulled the bedroom door closed as he exited to contain the snakes while he investigated the rest of the house.
Newspapers were strewn across the living room. Books and magazines were ripped from the bookshelves. They wanted something and were more than willing to kill for it.
Joe knew exactly what they wanted. He just didn’t know who they were.
Easing to the kitchen, he didn’t encounter any more snakes. Apparently, the only snakes were those carefully positioned in his bedroom while someone else ransacked the rest of the house.
Joe took the phone from the kitchen wall cradle. All the drawers, cabinets, and pantry contents were dumped on the floor. He had to call the sheriff to report Misty’s death and the invasion of his home. But first, he’d contact his brothers to warn them of the possible threat to his family.