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“Shh! Stop!” She looked around.
No one.
And she’d flipped on the light in the garage, illuminating the area. No one was hiding anywhere nearby.
“You’re being silly,” she said, and hoisting the bag with her right arm, unhooked the bungee cord and flipped open the lid with her other.
A sharp hiss came from within, and as she was about to drop the bag into the can, she saw, coiled on the bottom, a huge snake with a triangular head, reptilian eyes staring up, jaws open to expose the white inside its mouth.
No!
Quick as lightning, the cottonmouth struck!
Shooting upward!
Mouth open!
Fangs exposed!
Kristi leaped back. “What the—!?”
The lid fell back onto the tub as the snake’s head hit it.
She dropped the garbage sack.
Shit, shit, shit!
Thump!The can hopped as the snake struck the side.
Then again.
Thump! Thump!
Each time Kristi jumped backward, certain the snake would pop out. Heart thudding, she slid on spilled yogurt, caught herself, and kept her eyes fastened to the tub.Trap it! Trap it inside!
With Dave barking his fool head off, her fingers shaking, she reattached the bungee cord that held the lid in place, then backed away. The tub teetered wildly with the writhing and striking of the snake within while her own heart was knocking fast and hard.
“What’s going on?” A male voice came out of nowhere.
She whipped around and faced the same man who’d found Dave in the park and brought him home: Cruz Montoya. Dressed in leather jacket and jeans, his black hair mussed, he stood only inches from her.
“What’re you doing here? How’d you get in here?”
He glanced at the still-moving can. “Maybe I’m here to save the day.”
“Oh, for the love of God, no! No. This is no time for jokes!”
He was staring at the tub. “What’s in there?”
“You don’t know?”
“How would I?”
“I don’t know, maybe you put it in there.” The can rattled ominously.
“Putwhatin there? Whatever it is, it’s mad as hell.”
“It’s a damned water moccasin!” she said.
