Kurt looked into the enclosure. “He’s not much bigger than a goat. I wonder if it can get him down.”
“I don’t know,” Joe said. “He’s got a big head.”
Kurt turned. “He does have a big melon. Bet his neck gets tired holding it up.”
Ion went to speak and then froze. The snake had moved up behind him, its tongue had flicked out and grazed his thigh.
Kurt wondered if it would bite him first or just start coiling around him. Before it did either, Kurt decided to give Ion another shot at freedom.
“You want to tell me about Andras?” he asked, the joking nature of his voice long gone.
“I can’t,” Ion whispered.
“Once that snake wraps around you, there’s nothing I can do but leave and try to shut the door behind me,” Kurt said, “so you’d better talk quick before it’s too late.”
Ion was pressed against the plastic door. He seemed as if he was barely breathing. The snake slithered past his legs and began to curve back around.
“Can it sense him?” Kurt asked Joe.
“Oh yeah. That tongue senses heat.”
The snake began to coil up as if it would strike.
Ion sensed it; he was shaking but he didn’t speak. Then the snake lunged, knocking him down, and wrapping around him.
Kurt hadn’t actually expected it to happen.
Ion screamed and struggled. Both moves were a big mistake because they expended air, and as soon as his chest cavity shrank a smidgen, the constrictor tightened.
“Austin,” he managed, freeing one arm and grabbing at the snake’s neck. “Austin…”
Ion could speak no more, and obviously he could say nothing if he was dead. Kurt opened the door and sprang into action. He looped the stick collar over the snake’s head and tightened it. Moving to get leverage, he forced the snake’s head and neck up and away from Ion.
Kurt pushed with all his might. He found it hard to believe how strong the snake was. It fought him and twisted and flipped, even with Ion still in its coil.
“Joe,” Kurt shouted. “A little zookeeper help please?”
Joe was already there. He’d dropped down beside Ion and grabbed the snake’s midsection, pulling with all his might. He arched his back and managed to create a small amount of space in its tight coil.
Thin, wet, and desperate to live, Ion squirmed free, crawled out of the pen, and collapsed on the floor.
Joe followed right behind him, and Kurt released the snake and slammed the door shut. He immediately pla
ced the stick collar over Ion’s head again. The man didn’t even resist.
“Where can I find Andras?” Kurt asked.
Ion turned his eyes toward Kurt, his face drawn, his look that of a beaten man.
“I haven’t seen him in over a year,” Ion said.
“Bull,” Kurt said. “You were his go-to guy for work. We all know that.”
“He doesn’t need work anymore,” Ion said. “He has a permanent gig now. He hasn’t looked for action in two years.”
“And yet you saw him a year ago,” Kurt said, tightening the collar again. “Get your story straight.”
“I did see him a year ago,” Ion admitted. “But he wasn’t looking for a job. He was hiring.”