issue67slitheringoff

                                                      ZYGOTE IN MY COFFEE.COM

***BIO*** Taylor Collier: I am a native of Lubbock, Texas, and my fiction has appeared in Bewildering Stories and is forthcoming in New College Review, Giggle Water Review, Turnpike Gates, and Main Street Rag.

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Slithering Off

by Taylor Collier

It was the first time Kate had even seen a snake, let alone a rattlesnake that she'd have to get up close and personal with. Her boyfriend, Marc, had talked her into going camping two weeks earlier, but had she known he would crawl into his sleeping bag with a rattlesnake already in it, coiled up and cozy, she never would've agreed.

Kate listened to the fire pop and stared at the stars she'd never seen before with her head leaned against Marc's shoulder. He moved his arm gently around her shoulders and brought his head down and kissed her. Since their engagement three months ago, they'd started having sex more often. She pushed back and said, "Are you ready for bed?"

He smiled and stood up, taking off his coat. "I thought you'd never ask," he said.

"I shouldn't have to," she said in a soft, sly voice. She peeled her coat off and went and unzipped the tent. She threw her jacket down on the sleeping bags—didn't want to get it dirty; she still had two more days of camping left. Marc walked over and threw his jacket in the tent on top of hers, then drooped his head to kiss her again.

Struggling to take off her boots, she didn't expect his kiss and almost fell, one of her boots off and the other one half on.

"Let's go," he said, already undoing his belt.

She reached inside the tent and pulled out her small duffle bag. "Go ahead and get inside," she said. "I've got a little surprise for you." He kicked off his boots and dropped his pants into a pile
before pulling back a tent flap and ducking his head to get inside.

She opened her duffle bag and rummaged through to find the silk pajamas she brought. She was moving her underwear and socks around to get to the pajamas underneath when she heard Marc scream, "Oh my God! It bit me! It bit me!"

She looked up and saw him fumbling to get out of the tent. His head was stuck inside, and he was pushing it against the top of the tent, trying to stand up straight and run. The rattlesnake's jaws were clasped around his thigh, the rest of the snake dangled down into its coil, and, for a second, she was convinced he was pulling a stunt.

But then she heard the rattle and froze. The rattle's satanic cackle drowned out the sound of his screams. She had never even been out in the country before. She had no idea what to do. Marc pulled the tent so hard that the two back tent pegs shot out of the ground, and he fell with the tent around him, the snake's fangs still sunk deep in his leg.

Kate was crying, her face already red and puffed up. She sidestepped around the collapsed tent and screamed, "What am I supposed to do?" between heavy sobs.

"Kill it!" he screamed. "Get it off me!"

But Marc had fallen on top of the snake. She couldn't even see it anymore, just a big pile of tent material with Marc and the snake underneath. He worked his head through the tent flap and stuck his arms out, trying to crawl out. Once he got his arms untangled from the tent, he shoved his right arm back inside, grabbed the snake by its head, and tried to pry it from his thigh.

She paced around the outside of the tent, still in her socks. She pulled her hair back, out of her eyes, and tried to calm down. "I need you to tell me what to do," she said with a fake calm.

He tried to pry the snake's head from his thigh while crawling out of the tent at the same time. He looked up at her and said, "Bring me the shovel."

"What shovel?" she asked, trying to remember if they had even brought one.

Marc squeezed out of the tangled tent, dragging the snake out with him. Once out of the tent, he was finally able to jerk the snake's mouth off of his leg. "Where's the shovel?" he said, holding the snake away from him. "Hurry! Where is it?"

She ran to the car and scrambled to open the trunk, the only place she thought a shovel might be. "Dammit, Kate," he screamed. "It's on the outside of my pack." He tried to stand up, but his right leg buckled under him. He stumbled and fell but managed to keep hold of the snake's head. The snake wriggled and jerked in his grip, its body slapping against the loose dirt on the ground. Kate left the car and ran to the tree where their backpacks were propped. She didn't see a shovel, just a folded piece of metal with a wooden handle, so she picked up the whole backpack and carried it over to him. She tried to set the backpack down next to him, but she slipped and it fell on the arm he held the snake's head with. The snaked writhed out of Marc's grasp. "Shit," he said, pushing himself away. Its body grazed against the side of her foot as it slithered off into the bushes.

"Thanks a lot," he said, trying to stand. He pushed himself up with his good leg, and Kate grabbed one of the lawn chairs and stuck it under him so he could sit down.

"I'm sorry," she said, still crying. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do. You have to tell me."
"I have to get to an emergency room," he said.

"Where is it?" she asked. She could only see him and the rocks and branches and trees and stars, no signs pointing to a hospital. She thought he looked funny sitting in the chair with nothing but a white t-shirt on.

"I don't know," he screamed. He had his hand cupped over the bite.

He leaned over in the lawn chair and vomited. Looking up at her from his chair, he said, "We're in the middle of the fucking boonies. How am I supposed to know where a hospital is?"

Her cheeks swelled and tears drained from her closed eyes. She opened her eyes and started to pace around their campsite. "What am I supposed to do, Marc?" she said.

"We have to get to the car," he said, his breaths short. "Then you have to drive and find help."

She cocked her head back and glared at the stars before wiping off her face.

"This," she said, eyes burning at him. "Is exactly why I didn't want to go camping." She brought her right foot back and kicked at the ground, but she didn't see rock jutting out until she'd broken her foot against it. She fell backwards, grabbing her foot and pulling it closer to her. She didn't try to stop herself from falling, just plopped on the dirt.

Marc climbed out of his chair and limped to the car. He pulled the keys out of the lock on the trunk and leaned against the car for support. After he got to the front door, he opened it and crawled in.

Kate was still on the ground clutching her foot and crying, so he back the car up and turned around to get the passenger door as close to her as he could.

He reached over the seats and opened the passenger door. He'd gotten a little closer than he thought, and the corner of the door jabbed her ribs when he opened it. "Get in," he said.

Kate swiveled around on the dirt. She grabbed the door and used it to pull herself off the ground before getting inside the car.

Once she was inside, he slammed on the accelerator. Her door swung shut before she could close it. "Do you know where you're going?" she asked. He didn't respond. "I think I broke my foot," she said.
"Forget your foot," he said. His lip quivered. "A rattlesnake fucking bit me."

She sat back against the seat and pretended to look out the passenger window. They listened to the tires crunch the rocks on the dirt road.

Marc was afraid of a tire blowing if he drove too fast on the dirt road, but he kept his speed around thirty miles an hour. Once he found the highway they'd come in on, he stopped the car at the edge of the dirt road, right before the pavement. He turned on the blinker, and she heard the melodic clicking sounds over the fading gravel crunch.

"None of this would've happened if you hadn't wanted to take me out here," she said, still looking out the window.

"So all this is my fault?" he said. She didn't say anything.

He rolled the car out onto the highway. The tires hugged road, and Marc went faster, pushing the car up to sixty five miles an hour.

Kate pulled her CD case from the glove compartment and flipped through it to find a something to listen to. She punched the eject button on the CD player and pulled out the old CD before sliding in the one she'd chosen. She turned the music up as loud as it would go and curled up in her seat. Marc hit the eject button and pulled the CD out.

"What?" she complained. "You never let me pick the music."

"And I'm not starting now," he said. He rolled down his window and flung her CD out like a Frisbee.

"Let me out of the car," she said, grabbing for the handle. He reached to lock the doors, but she had already opened hers, so he tried to slow the car down, but she pushed herself out of the moving car; she skidded headfirst down the pavement on the shoulder of the road. Marc sped away. He had to find an emergency room.

Sept. 2006