Dave clapped Neil on the shoulder. “Say,” he said, changing the subject, “I am glad you came down to the beach. I’ve been dying for a cigarette all morning, and you have my lighter.” He held out his hand.
Neil dug into his back pocket and fished out Dave’s lighter. Dave took a cigarette from a crumpled package and put it between his lips. He clicked the lighter and the top snapped up, but no flame appeared.
“Darn,” he said.
He pressed down again, the top rising to expose the wick, a faint spark snapping momentarily into life.
“I really should throw this away,” Dave said, “but I’ve had it since the Army.”
“Sentimentalist,” Neil joked.
“Yeah,” Dave said, “just sentiment. I agree.” He pressed down with his thumb again, and this time a weak flame sprang up. Quickly he cupped his hand around the flame and lighted the cigarette, dropping the top over the wick immediately to conserve fuel.
“Here you are, my boy,” he said. “Keep it well.” He gave the lighter back to Neil.
“Maybe you’d better hang onto it,” Neil suggested.
“Nope. I’ve got about eight cigarettes left. If I had the lighter, I’d smoke them all in a few hours. This way, I can only afford that luxury when you’re around.”
“Okay.” Neil pocketed the lighter again.
“Say,” Dave exclaimed, “about time for chow, isn’t it? Come on, I’ll walk you back to the city.”
They started back through the forest, Dave leading the way.
“I know this woods like the back of my hand now,” Dave said. “I can even find my way back at night.”
They walked in silence most of the way, while the monkeys swung in the trees overhead, gossiping noisily.
When they reached the edge of the forest, the city in plain view, Neil stopped and faced Dave. His face was serious, and his blue eyes looked into Dave’s searchingly.
“Dave. Will we really have to spend the rest of our lives here?”
Dave squinted at Neil, concern on his features. He rubbed a hand over his broken nose as he said, “I don’t know, Neil.” Softer, then, “I don’t really know.”
They walked into the city, and Dave left Neil as he went to wash up. Neil saw Erik standing beside a tall tree, talking to Talu, or at least trying to talk to him.
Talu was shaking his white-thatched head vigorously when Neil approached.
“What’s the trouble?” Neil asked in Swedish.
Erik grinned and ran a big hand through his fiery beard.
“Nothing, Neil. I was just asking our friend if he would feel safer if my men and I gave him our weapons again.”
“And?” Neil asked.
“You saw,” Erik said. “He refuses. He thinks we need our weapons for protection in the woods.”
“What’s there to fear?” Neil asked Talu, switching tongues.
“Many animals,” Talu said. “Jaguars…”
He stopped, his eyes glued in fascination to the branch of the tree overhead. His words seemed to catch in his throat, and they gave way to a slight intake of breath, an almost soundless cry.
Neil’s eyes darted rapidly to the hanging branch.
Curled there, the powerful muscles of its body wrapped tightly around the branch, slithering downward, jaws opened wide, flat, ugly eyes dull, fangs pointed and bared, was an enormous green snake.
Neil gasped as the snake reared back and halted in its downward glide.
With a quick sideward motion, Neil threw Talu to the ground, tumbling on top of the priest.
“Erik!” he screamed. “Be careful! A snake!”
The flat, ugly head drew back like the taut string of a bow.
Then, without warning, its jaws stretched wide to reveal a yawning red chasm, its fangs gleaming whitely, it struck!
Chapter 10
Treachery Afoot
Neil rolled over again, his arms wrapped about the Maya priest. Together, like two wrestlers, their bodies spiraled in the dust. The great head struck with vicious speed, striking the dust, sending a billowing cloud into the air. Then with the same alarming speed, the snake drew back its head, its enormous coils corkscrewing backward along the branch of the tree, from which the beady eyes surveyed the two figures sprawled in the dust.
A forked tongue darted out rapidly; jaws opened wide, fangs dripping, and then clamped shut again. Still the flat eyes were motionless, pinning Neil and Talu to the ground.
The head reared back, gauging the distance for the strike, poised murderously between branch and earth.
“Don’t move!” Erik commanded.
Neil lay still, his breath coming in rushed gasps. Beside him, Talu covered his eyes with a skinny hand and waited. The snake, apparently unaware of Erik, hung from the branch, its flat head cocked back.
Slowly, barely moving, inch by inch, Erik’s fingers crept to the ax hanging at his side.
The snake’s eyes flicked sideways for a moment, and then darted back to their prey.
Like a character in a slow-motion movie, Erik slid the ax from his belt, slowly… slowly…
Neil watched the painful process, wondering when that head would come flashing down, those fangs sink in a death grip. The ax was free. Neil drew in a deep breath.
Without warning, as suddenly as the flick of a bull whip, the head lashed out. With devastating speed, jaws widespread and fangs darting pin points of light, it flashed toward the figures lying in the dust.
The ax slashed through the air, swishing wildly in a metallic, murderous arc. It’s too late, Neil thought. The snake is too fast. Muscular, writhing body. Gaping throat. Pointed fangs. Green, red, brilliant white, blurred together in the speed of the snake’s strike. And under it all, like the subdued theme in a symphony, was the swish of Erik’s ax.
Like two great forces trying to avoid an ultimate meeting, the snake’s head and the ax sped toward their respective marks.
It seemed so long. It seemed ages, eternities. Neil saw everything clearly and distinctly. The eyes were close now, moving so slowly, closer, closer. And yet he knew those eyes and those gaping jaws were moving more swiftly than he could possibly imagine.
There was a dull sound and the ax connected with the flashing head. This was followed immediately by a slight squishing noise as the ax sank into flesh.
And then there was no more head threatening-only a great writhing, twisting body that hung from the branch, thrashing wildly, blood spurting from the severed end of the body.
On the ground the jaws of the severed head snapped open and shut in a convulsive last burst of energy. The muscles of the body shook in convulsion, tightened on the tree, seemed to squeeze the branch in a powerful grip, and then loosened completely.
The body dropped to the earth, writhing once in the dust and then it lay still, a pool of blood soaking into the ground beneath it.
Neil let out his breath.
Erik, his face covered with sweat, his eyes tired, dropped the ax to the ground and helped Neil and Talu to their feet. His arm tightened around Neil’s shoulder.
“My friend,” he whispered. “I thought I would lose you.”
Talu was still trembling, his thin body shaking like a hollow tube in the wind.
He reached out and touched Erik’s arm.
“Thank you,” he said. He looked down at the still body of the snake. “You are mightier than the serpent, stranger.” His body shook in a new spasm.
Neil tried to grin, but his teeth were still chattering.
“Let’s eat,” he suggested, but he didn’t feel hungry.
It was four days later when Erik approached Talu about the food.
“How much food will you need?” Talu asked.