Chapter 3

SOMETHING AWOKE ME. One moment I was sound asleep, the next wide awake, triggered into consciousness by something that no doubt registered on my subliminal mind. So far, I had no idea what it was. But with the caution instinctive in all of us when we are alert to potential danger I lay perfectly still, hardly breathing, listening for the slightest sound.

I was on my back and the vast dome of the sky was above, darkly cloud-flecked, beautiful. It no longer was night; the silver grayness of dawn was evident. On the peaks of the cliffs was a bright orange cast that could come only from the rising sun.

By turning my eyes far to the left I could see Geri, still soundly asleep. She too lay on her back, possibly six feet away.

The blanket had slipped down from her shoulders. Even in relaxation her breasts were protrusive. Two conical mounds, they moved in cadence to her breathing. Her face looked less tense now; lying there, she could have been twenty-five or even younger.

My eyes moved downward-and I saw the snake!

It was a diamond-back and it lay there coiled, head erect and slightly above its body, ready to strike.

My first impulse was to execute a quick roll out of its path. But I killed the impulse even as it was born. That would leave Geri at its mercy. If she moved a hand, or rolled over on her side, it would strike.

It was warning us. That tad was quivering, making that slight but recognizable sound which once heard is never forgotten.

How quickly can a rattler strike? Faster than you can move out of its path. I knew that; I had seen it happen before.

I moved a hand slightly and immediately the wicked, diamond-shaped head turned, the beady eyes watching me like a hawk.

There was only one thing to do. The problem was right there in front of me. It could be solved in only one way, and even that was dangerous.

I had to be the decoy. I had to attract and hold its attention whde Geri moved out of its path, an inch at a time. But first, arouse her!

I pulled in a lungful of air, slowly moved my head a fraction of an inch at a time, so I could see her face.

"Geri!" I said softly.

If only she awakened naturally, didn't make any erratic body movement! If only I could arouse her, keep her calm and then tell her of the danger, minimizing it as much as possible. If only she didn't panic!

"Geri!" I said again. "Do you hear me, Geri? Whatever you do, don't move. Don't move a single muscle!"

I saw her eyelids flutter open, close. She moved her hand, and I went cold. What if she sat upright in one violent movement, as people sometimes do when they are aroused from deep slumber?

"Geri, don't move!" I repeated.

Her eyelids fully opened now. She was looking at the sky above, half-awake, perhaps realizing that it was dawn, time to get back on the trail before the heat of the day clamped down.

"What is it?" she asked.

Thank heavens, she was fully awake at last!

"Don't move a muscle, Geri-"

I saw her eyes searching the perimeter of her vision. Lying there on her back, she couldn't see the snake until she moved her head.

"Now don't be frightened!" I said as calmly as I could. "Listen to every word I say. Got it, Geri?"

"I'm listening, Steve-"

I noticed a quiver in her voice. She realized that something was wrong, didn't know what the danger was.

"Keep very calm," I beseeched. "If you don't keep calm, absolutely relaxed with no movement of your body, hand, foot, or even a sudden turn of your head, we're in trouble.

"What are you trying to say?"

The quaver was more noticeable in her voice now. Awakened from a deep sleep, the first word she heard was an admonition to keep absolutely quiet. I realized what it must be doing to her, building up tension so fast that soon she would have no control over her reflexes. She would turn, see the snake and panic. I had to keep her from doing that.

"We have a problem," I said. "It's a physical problem for our safety, yours and mine. But if you do as I tell you we'll lick it, neither one of us will get hurt."

I saw her eyes flicker. Perhaps she thought it was something above us, something like a sword of Damocles.

"My God, Steve, tell me!" she said. Her voice was tight, jerky. "All right, I'll tell you. Now hold on!"

I moved my finger slightly, saw the beady head of the snake swing back to me. Any little movement will attract a snake. It considers movement as danger. Anything that moves is a potential enemy; it will strike at anything that moves. So I had to keep it looking my way, in case she made any sudden movement.

"Geri, there's a rattlesnake coiled and ready to strike, between us.

Something like a moan started in her throat. Whatever it was, I realized that she had no physical control over it. The sound was simple, unadulterated terror.

"It won't strike you," I continued, "if you lie perfectly still."

She didn't say anything. But I noticed the rapid rise and fall of her breasts, a barometer of her excitement and emotion.

"Now here's the plan of escape for you," I said. "Wait until I give the signal, then slowly inch your body away. I said inch it away, and that's exactly what I mean. A guarded motion, so slow it will not attract the snake's attention. Use your hips, your elbows. Slow, Geri! Slow as a snail!"

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to keep the snake's eyes on me while you make the move."

"I-I can't, Steve. I'm cold to the bone!"

I waited, sweating it out.

"Geri, if you don't do as I say, you'd get the snakes fangs. It's closer to you than it is to me."

I saw her eyes turn to the left. She was trying to see the snake without moving her head. That was impossible.

"Move your head toward the left slowly, Geri!"

I flicked my finger again, and the beady, arrow-shaped death-point swung in my direction. I was sweating now, real drops of oozing sweat.

I saw Geri's head move just a bit, then a bit more.

Suddenly she saw the coiled snake.

For what happened then, I'll never blame her. The terror was greater than her resolve to keep calm. I saw her eyes dilate, her chest expand. I knew the scream was coming.

It wasn't the scream that had me worried, it was the tightening of her muscles. She was going to make a desperate attempt to get out of the snake's path. And that would be fatal.

I looked at the snake, saw its head swing toward her.

Zero-hour! A split-second, and then death. The rattler was so positioned that if it struck, it would bury its fangs in her face or in her throat. And that meant almost certain death.

"Geri!" I said, "Don't move!"

But it was too late. Terror had taken over. I saw her hands clench, and she pulled up her legs. The snake's head swung toward her.

One second. Not two, or five. One second!

I sliced at that wicked head with my hand, holding it stiff in a judo-stance which I hoped would catch the snake back of the head and break its neck. That the odds were great didn't at the moment figure in the picture. It was the only thing I could do, a long shot-maybe a million to one.

I knew I lost the moment I started the action.

Lay on your back sometime, try to bring up your arm and slice outward, away from your body. See how long it takes. Two seconds, possibly.

The rattler's head was pointed at Geri when I started the swing. It head zoomed back to give it leverage for the strike. It had seen her spasmodic movement.

But the sudden movement of my own arm, the vicious slice toward it, caused the snake to whip its head toward me so quickly that the eye couldn't even follow the action. I saw it all in the quick hazy flash of a terror-filled split-second, death coming at me and no way to stop it. Like being caught in the middle of a street, with a truck bearing down on you.

My hand caught the snake possibly a foot from its upraised head. The momentum of the slice was hard enough so its body lifted, shot through the air, bounced off the side of the ledge.

Even so its fangs caught me in the forearm.

There was no pain other than a slight sting, something like that of a bee. But hollow venom-filled needle went in, and that's all it takes!

Geri was screaming at the top of her voice, still rolling away from me. She didn't realize I had been bitten.

I sat up, grabbed her, and shook her hard. She was still screaming and I sliced my fingers across her face, to shock her into reality.

It stopped the scream. She sat there, shaking all over. Then she flung herself into my arms, and I felt her breasts hard against my rib cage.

"You flung it off the ledge!"

"Yeah!"

I pushed her back, dug frantically for my pocket knife.

"Get a handkerchief around my arm, above the elbow," I said, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

Only then did she realize the snake had bitten me. "Steve! Oh, Steve!"

I'll say this for her: she didn't go into hysteria. She calmed down in a hurry, grabbed my arm. Then she saw the punctures.

"Steve, you'll die!"

"I hope not."

I had the knife out now, got the sharp point into the punctures and sliced deep. I crisscrossed the spot, and the blood spurted.

"Wind that tourniquet tighter!" I said.

Her fingers were trembling. Her lips were trembling, too. But somehow she got the handkerchief around my arm. I found a small greasewood stick, showed her how to tighten the handkerchief, pulled up my arm to suck the wound.

But it was about an inch from the elbow. I'm quite a contortionist, but I couldn't make it.

"I'll do it!" she said.

I grabbed her arm.

"Geri, let's face facts. If you have a hollow tooth, a cut gum, even a badly chapped lip, the venom can get into your blood stream."

"My teeth are perfect," she assured me.

She bent her head and sucked blood out of the wound, spitting it out until the ledge was discolored with it.

I was feeling it now: nothing alarming, but the first hot flush of the poison was quickening my heart action.

"That should do it!" I said at last. I loosened the tourniquet, then tightened it again.

"What now?" she asked. The fear in her voice was very real, it was crowding her rationality.

I pulled her into an embrace with my good arm. Her shirt had come unbuttoned, she was showing me a set of the most provocative breasts any woman could be endowed with. But at the moment, Cleopatra herself couldn't have tempted me.

"There a compass in the pack," I said. "Get it, take one of the canteens and half the food. I think you can climb to the rim over there, if you're careful."

I pointed to what looked like a break in the wall.

"And leave you here?"

"Yes, it's the only way. Now listen good. I'll go into a fever, then a chill, maybe a coma. But if I don't move to tax my heart action, I'll live. I've seen it happen before. But I won't be worth a damn for two days at the most-three, maybe. If we both stay here well run out of supplies, and water. If you strike South you'll run across an Indian somewhere on the mesa. Get help, and come back."

I felt it now, but good! I tried to hang on, not let her know. But I think she saw it, too. She bent over me and kissed me hard, violently. It was a salty kiss, so I knew she was crying.

"Oh Steve, it was my fault!"

"Quit torturing yourself! Start climbing before it gets too hot." She was gone. She was sobbing, but I could hear her moving away. My eyesight was blurry all of a sudden. I had the blanket, and it was getting cold as hellShe had such glorious breasts and they were right there, in my face, the aureoles large and dark. Still I was so cold, and they were cold I awakened, went back to sleep.

The second time I awakened, it was night. A coyote howled somewhere up on the rim-or was that Geri's cry?

I was so weak that I couldn't lift my hand, and so sleepy The next time I awoke it seemed to be late afternoon. The heat was intense, even in the shade of the wall. That seemed strange. I'd been bitten by the snake early in the morning. There had been darkness. Now daylight again-and more darkness coming.

Holy cow, was it possible that I slept through an entire day and night? First the coma, the chill. There had been fever, too. I could faintly remember the fever. Then the fever died down, and the chill took over again.

I raised my hand now, rather amazed that I could do this little feat. I was still weak, but not as weak as before. My fingers came up to my face, felt my beard. It was a real buzz-saw beard-two days' growth.

But I wasn't going to die! Nope, the worst was over.

Then a disturbing thought suddenly claimed my attention: Geri hadn't come back! She'd had ample time to find some Indian hogan and bring help. I knew these Indians; there would be no argument, they would follow to help. Simple people, with kindness as a virtue.

What had happened to Geri? She might have been lulled, trying to gain the rim. She was in a highly nervous state. Anything could have happened to her in that frame of mind, I assured myself. She might even have tangled with another rattler. No, that was simply too preposterous!

But the feeling persisted that she wasn't coming back. Could it be that terror had taken over, that she had headed for safety with civilization her only thought? No, I couldn't accept this at all.

She helped kidnap a baby, years ago. She had been married to a man who had dragged her down deep, because of his own weakness of character. But the fact that she had come back to this very spot, proved to me there was compassion and kindness in her heart.

When the snake had bitten me the terror on her face, the anguish, was far from acting. She had even endangered her own life, vacuuming blood from the wound. No, she hadn't willfully run out on me. There was something else. But what?

I was still too weak to follow, far too weak. I was thirsty, found the canteen, took a swallow of the tepid water. I realized, too, that I was hungry.

My arm was stiff and swollen. I looked at the wound. The blood had congealed now, and I couldn't help but grin. I had really sliced that knife across those tiny punctures! Perhaps that alone, plus Geri's efficient work, had saved my life.

For one thing, I had new respect for a rattlesnake. How much of the venom had I gotten! A drop, five drops? Medically speaking, how many CCs? I didn't know, but I realized one thing: that venom was potent. If I had lost my head and tried to climb to the rim after being bitten, my laboring heart would have hammered itself to death.

"Say a prayer, fellow!" the little green man advised me, pecking very lightly on my ear. "You were lucky, old man. You were so lucky!"

Time passed. I slept again. When I woke up, it was dusk. I felt much better now, so darned hungry I started scrounging for the pack, to see what foodstuff it contained.

I got to my feet, wobbly at first, but upright, walking. At last I made it down to the spot where I had dug for water. There was about a foot of seepage in the sand-pit, enough to fill a canteen-and more. I drank, and never did water taste so good.

I built a fire, put the coffee pot on. Waiting for it to boil, I got most of the whiskers off my face.

We had packed some dehydrated milk and eggs. In the service, this kind of stuff didn't appeal to me at all. But at the moment it was the best darned food I ever tasted.

I sat back after the meal and smoked a cigarette, staring into the dying fire. I couldn't get Geri Lopez out of my mind.

In the coma, long delirious half-sleep that gripped me while the venom was at work, I was dreaming of her. She tempted me with her provocative body. Her sensuous mouth was luring me on, teasing me with kisses. I saw her back in the canyon when she slipped out of the bra, giving me a great big tease as she did so. I had modestly turned my back while she stripped down, and she had laughed at me.

Was she hard and callous, or was this merely a front? She had indulged in a heinous crime. "But," some little voice said, "she's paid for it-a hundred times. No, ten thousand times. She's a woman, Steve, a woman so thrilling that her very touch is fire. And you haven't even laid a hand on her!"

"Perhaps she wants you to touch her, Steve," the voice went on. "She needs you, and you need her-"

Now it might be too late. I gazed up at the rim. Directly opposite the shelf, there was a break in the wall. It wasn't exactly a trail, but it might have been used by the Indians as a sort of a broken-ladder trail to the top, and the mesa beyond.

Geri had started up from this spot. That's all I knew. Had she fallen, or gotten lost, or fallen victim to some other hazard? Perhaps she had, perhaps her screams had reached me and my ears hadn't heard. Or if they heard, my brain hadn't responded.

I had a feeling that I would find her somewhere up there, broken and dead. It was a fearful thought, somehow it kept nagging me.

At last I could bear it no longer. I was still weak, but somehow I started out.

I had to find her, dead or alive.