“Move or I’ll do it myself!”
“Don’t!”
Something shifted beneath the leaves.
Titan’s growl deepened.
The little girl suddenly went still.
So did I.
Then I heard it.
Dry.
Heavy.
Rhythmic.
Rattle.
Rattle.
Rattle.
My eyes dropped toward the leaves beside the child’s blonde hair.
Something thick began sliding slowly into view. 👇
A triangular head pushed through the leaves.
The branch above Titan stopped in midair.
So did my breathing.
The snake was thick, dark-banded, and coiled so tightly beside the girl’s head that I could see the muscles shift beneath its scales. The rattle lifted and shook again.
Rattle. Rattle. Rattle.
The little girl’s mother made a strangled sound.
“Nobody move,” I said.
Titan’s weight stayed across the child’s shoulders. What had looked like an attack seconds earlier was suddenly the only thing keeping her from sitting up directly into striking distance.
The man with the branch lowered it by inches.
“Is that a rattlesnake?”
“Back away. Slowly.”
My baton was still in my hand. I set it on the ground. Any sudden movement near the snake could send it forward.
“Sweetheart,” I said to the girl, “I need you to stay completely still. Can you do that for me?”
Her face was streaked with dirt and tears. She looked at Titan’s chest above her, then at me.
“He’s heavy.”
