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“Why did he want you to meet?”
“Because he knew her family is close to yours, and Jaime has always wanted to own Miami. In his eyes, they were an in. She could lead me to your family, or at the very least, introduce us.”
“But that didn’t work out, did it.” Not a question.
Yet before he can answer, there’s a rustling near the trees where I released the small snake earlier, and our heads turn in that direction. Nothing moves for a beat and it’s silent, too quiet before a head slithers out.
It’s large and so is the attached body, larger than any snake I’ve seen in the past. However, with all the invasive species that call these lands home, I’m not surprised that at some point we’d end up here.
Years ago, during one of the worst hurricanes the state has seen, there was total destruction in the city of Homestead. In 1992, Andrew, a category 5 storm, tore through South Florida leaving behind a loss of power, structures, fatalities, and lastly, the escape of many exotic animals that made their way to the swamps they now call home.
The breeding facility that bred pythons and other countless snakes created a problem.
One that now has made the need for a snake hunting season a reality in these parts.
Yet, this isn’t what I thought it to be at first glance. No.
More than likely from another problem we have in this state, a lesson human beings haven’t learned. We’re not meant to own exotic animals such as these. They are easy to handle when small, but a specimen this large…at the very least fifteen feet in length, will kill you easily.
A green anaconda stares at us but makes no further move. It’s coiled now and still, tongue flicking out to catch us in the air just outside the tree line. Everyone stills while watching the animal.
“Go on, Dalian. Tell me why it didn’t work out with Amberlyn?”
“We need to go. That snake—”
“Is not the biggest threat here. Finish.”
The animal shifts its head, and the pathetic cunt whimpers, “I’ll help you stop him.”
“I’m not hiring, but you have ten seconds to start, or I’ll feed you to it myself.” Still too afraid to talk, I force the metal to dig through a little more; the flesh now truly bleeds. The wound isn’t enough to kill, but he’s sitting on that razor's edge where another thin cut will bleed him out. “I can make this easy on you, or drag it out to the point you’ll claw at your flesh and tear it apart just to end it. Tell me, Dalian. Now.”
“She wouldn’t even dance with me.” He’s choking, breathing labored as panic sets in.
“Is that all?” My men take a few steps back as the large animal slithers closer but not enough to strike. This is a waiting game.
“Please.” Wheezing. Hands scraping at the ground, trying to find purchase and move back, but fail. “No mas. Por favor.”
“All she did was turn down a dance? That made her your target?”
“She couldn’t muster more than a hello, while I couldn’t pull my eyes away.”
“People always want what they can’t have. It’s a sin.”
“We need…” he coughs and blood splutters, falling to the ground by his knees “…please. It will kill. I don’t want to die.”
“But you will, knowing Amberlyn Ibarra is mine. That you were never enough.” Dropping the end of the wire from one hand, I pull it hard with the other and Dalian falls forward. His body is spasming, his breathing labored while I move out of the way, but not before leaving him with a final thought. “Henry Davila was your downfall. You told him where you’d be, and he told me after your last phone call.”
Then, as I back away, another predator makes its way slowly into the small clearing. The gator is clearly more than eight feet, reminding you of a prehistoric beast. His hiss is clear, a warning to those in his domain and the snake takes notice, raising its head. How they interact reminds me of Georgie and Kline in the lake behind my parents’ home; one testing the other.
For a few minutes, neither moves.
Both sizing the other up, but to my surprise, it’s the snake that backs off. And while it coils into itself by the trees it emerged from, the gator moves toward Dalian at a speed I’m impressed by.
His head looks our way, another warning to back off his meal and we do.
One foot at a time, until the animal feels comfortable and clamps his jaws on the barely-alive scum. Teeth digging in, it overpowers the man in one death roll, breaking bones and tearing flesh while the younger Uriel gives one final scream.
You see the moment his body stops—eyes vacant—and that’s when I turn to leave.
