Seize The Night. By: Dean R. Koontz

“Close the vents, crank this buggy up to warp speed, ” Bobby said, “and

take us for a ride on the rattlesnake road.” Roosevelt said, “My mama

always says, Patience pays.”

“The snakes aren’t here because we are, ” I said. “They don’t care about

us. They aren’t blocking us. We just happened to come through here at

the wrong time. They’ll move on, probably sooner than later.”

Bobby patted my shoulder. “Roosevelt’s mom is a lot more succinct than

you are, dude.” Every snake that rose into sentry position from the

churning host immediately focused its attention on us. Depending on the

angle at which the headlamps caught them, their eyes brightened and

flared red or silver, less often green, like small jewels.

I assumed that the light drew their interest. Desert rattlers, like most

snakes, are nearly as deaf as dirt. Their vision is good, especially at

night, when their slit-shaped pupils dilate to expose more of their

sensitive retinas. Their sense of smell may not be as powerful as that

of a dog, since they’re seldom called upon to track down escaped

prisoners or to sniff out dope in smugglers’ luggage, however, in

addition to a good nose, a snake has a second organ of smelljacobson’s

organ, consisting of two pouches lined with sensory tissue located in the

roof of the mouth. That’s why a serpent’s forked tongue flicks

ceaselessly, It licks microscopic particles of odor from the air,

conveying these clusters of molecules to the pouches in its mouth, to

savor and analyze them.

Now these rattlers were busily licking the air for our scents to

determine if suitably delicious prey might be found behind the

headlights.

I’ve learned a great deal about desert rattlesnakes, with which I share

the earlier and warmerpart of the night. In spite of their evil

appearance, they possess a compelling beauty.

Weird became weirder when one of the weaving sentries abruptly reared

back and struck at another that had risen beside it. The bitten rattler

bit back, the two coiled around each other and then dropped to the

pavement. The flexuous swarm closed over them, and for a minute, turmoil

swept through the braided multitude, which writhe not languorously, as

before, but in a frenzy, as supple and quick as lashing whips, twisting

and coiling excitedly, as though the urge to bite their own had spread

beyond the angry pair we’d seen strike each other, briefly sparking

civil war within the colony.

As the slithery horde grew calmer again, Sasha said, “Do snakes usually

bite one another? ”

“Probably not, ” I said.

“Wouldn’t think they’d be vulnerable to their own venom, ” said

Roosevelt, returning the ice pack to his left eye.

“Well, ” Bobby said, “if we’re ever condemned to live through high

school again, maybe we can make a science project out of that question.

” Again, one of the rearing rattlers, weaving above the rest and licking

the air for prey, struck at another of the sentries, and then a third

grew agitated enough to strike the first. The trio raveled down into the

swarm, and another siege of spastic thrashing whipped through the

undulant masses.

“It’s the birds again, ” I said. “The coyotes.”

“The folks at the Stanwyks’, ” Roosevelt added.

“Psychological implosion, ” Sasha said.

“I don’t suppose a snake has much of a psyche to be logical about, ”

Bobby said, “but yeah, it sure looks like part of the same phenomenon.”

“They’re moving, ” Roosevelt noted.

Indeed, the squirming legions were, so to speak, on the march.

They began to move across the two-lane blacktop, across the narrow dirt

shoulder, vanishing into the tall grass and wildflowers to the right of

the highway.

The complete procession, however, consisted of more than the eighty or

one hundred specimens that we had been watching. As scores of snakes

disappeared into the grass beyond the right-hand shoulder, scores of

others appeared out of the field to the left of Haddenbeck Road, as if

they were pouring out of a perpetual-motion, snake-making machine

Perhaps three or four hundred rattlers, increasingly quarrelsome and

agitated, crossed into the southern wilds before the blacktop was clear

at last. When they were gone, when not a single wriggling form remained

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