I don’t see the snake wrangler close by. “Get Tomás over here,” I shout, then scoot to the far end of the coffin and pry the final nail loose, edge over, plant my feet next to the coffin, and throw open the lid.
Inside the coffin I can see two, three — yes, all four of the cobras. One rears its head up at me as if to strike, but Xavier grabs a shovel from one of the men beside us and bats the snake violently away, then brings the blade down across its neck to stop it for good.
Emilio is still alive, his eyes are open and so is his mouth, but his lips are already turning bluish. His fingers twitch faintly.
Then I see it.
A baby cobra wriggles free from the end of the air tube, and as Charlene drops to one knee to open Emilio’s airway and to get him the antivenin, another baby cobra eases out from between his lips. She jerks back involuntarily, but I move in, grab the snake, and fling it aside.
“Help me get him out,” I shout to the men beside me.
We lift Emilio out of the coffin. Gasps rise from the crowd, and the men scramble backward toward safety.
“Where’s Tomás?” I call urgently to the men. “Get him over here. Now.”
The other snakes are already trying to find their way out of the coffin.
I can hear Xavier behind me taking care of the cobras before they get free — after all, if they still do have their venom we can’t let them get loose with all these people around.
Charlene leans in beside me. “Jev, I’ve got it.” She gives him the injection.
“You’re going to be fine,” I tell Emilio, but know it’s probably a lie even as I say it.
The air tube. He put his lips up to it, sucked in to get air into his lungs, and a cobra ended up in his mouth instead.
I stand and study the terrified faces of those in the crowd, but one man does not look terrified and is easing back toward the path that leads into the rainforest. As he moves, Tomás is still holding his bag, heavy with the additional cobras.
He sees me looking at him and spins abruptly and sprints toward the trailhead to a jungle path that leads to a waterfall about a quarter mile away.
“Help Emilio,” I call over my shoulder to Charlene, and then Xavier tosses his shovel aside and the two of us take off for the trail after Tomás.
Pursuit
Xavier is quick, but I’m a half-marathoner and I reach the trailhead first.
Despite the rain we’ve had, the path is surprisingly firm. Most of the water must have run off into the sloping ground and thick underbrush trailing down to both sides, and into the nearly impenetrable bamboo groves paralleling the trail. The right slope is steeper than the left, dropping off directly to the river.
I sprint through the darkening rainforest, but Tomás is still too far ahead on the winding path for me to see him.
For a little while I hear Xavier pounding behind me, but as I put more distance between us the sound soon fades. Apart from my own footfalls and breathing, and the unidentifiable jungle noises around me, I hear nothing.
The path is uneven. Narrow. I have to be careful to keep my footing.
I’d been hoping to see Tomás by now, but the trail zigzags in a series of tight turns on the way to the falls, and I still haven’t caught sight of him.
It’s possible he found a place to slip off into the jungle somewhere.
Yes, that’s possible, but the tight clumps of bamboo trees leave very little room for someone to get off the trail, and I’ve been keeping a close eye on the jungle as I run and I haven’t seen anything.
Though only halfway to the waterfall, I can hear it in the distance, thundering through the jungle.
Charlene and I hiked up here yesterday. The trail ends at a small scenic overlook. I’m not sure if there’s anywhere beyond that to hide, but Tomás has been in the area a week already, and if there is another trail, he could have scouted it out earlier. Otherwise, I’m not sure why he would have fled on this path.
I round a curve in the trail and finally catch sight of him. I’m gaining ground, and there’s only sixty or seventy feet between us.
As I sprint toward him, I can see that up ahead, the trail cuts sharply to the left to follow the escarpment of the cliff that plummets more than a hundred feet down into the valley.
Tomás disappears around the bend.
Easing up slightly so I can make the turn, I grab a tree with one hand to help me whip around the corner.
And as I fly forward, I almost step directly into the coiling mass of cobras Tomás left on the path in front of me.
I scramble to stop in time and barely manage to keep from trampling on the snakes.
Beyond them, Tomás disappears around the next turn.
Scanning the sides of the trail, I try to see if there’s enough room to edge past the snakes, but the jungle is too thick.
Quickly, I snatch a sturdy stick from the underbrush. It’s about four feet long, not ideal, but it’ll have to do. There’s no way to know if these snakes still have venom, but I don’t have much choice. I move toward the cobras, prod the stick toward one of them, and manage to sweep it aside.
I tell myself that if I don’t make any sudden movements, the snakes might just let me pass. However, as I move the stick toward the next one, it rears back and raises its hood, ready to strike.
I freeze, but before I can leap backward or knock the snake aside, it strikes at me with impossible quickness and latches onto my right forearm.
Dropping the stick, I grab the cobra’s head with my free hand to pry it off, but it sinks its fangs in even deeper. I have to work at it, and finally I’m able to rip it loose, taking a meaty clump of flesh with it.
I sling the cobra into the jungle.
Maybe that snake had its venom glands removed and maybe it didn’t. I feel a flash of pain, but at least it’s not the same stinging, debilitating feeling that swept over me when I was bitten by the Egyptian cobra two years ago.
However, almost immediately my heart starts racing and I begin to feel like I did when I was struggling with claustrophobia and was sealed in a trunk and dropped into a shark tank.
Panic.
A rising, inexplicable, reeling sense of dread.
Calm. Breathe. Stay calm.
Xavier arrives at my side. The sound of the nearby falls makes it difficult to hear him, but by his gestures it’s clear he’s telling me to step back, to sit down.
He unbuckles his belt and snaps it out to wrap my arm in a rudimentary tourniquet, but I’m not about to have a seat; I’m going to catch the guy who left these snakes on the path, the guy who passed at least two cobras through the air tube Emilio was using.
My heart is jackhammering in my chest, and I can tell it’s not just from the run and not just from adrenaline. It’s something else. It’s venom, it has to be the—
Get going, Jevin!
Stick in hand again, I shove one snake aside, giving me just enough room to get by. As soon as I’m past the cobras, I toss the stick back to Xavier and bolt forward again.
Blood flows freely from my arm. I ignore it and after maybe fifty yards I round the last turn and see Tomás.
He has reached the small clearing where a swath of forest was slashed away by the villagers to provide an overview of the waterfall, which drops ten stories into the gorge. He looks my direction, backs up two steps, and I have a feeling I know what he’s about to do.
Trying to buy time until Xavier can get here, I hold up my hands to show Tomás that I’m not a threat. Slowly, I step forward.
Tomás glances toward me, then peers at the plummeting falls. I pause, then ease closer. He takes one more look at me and then spins and runs directly toward the edge of the cliff.