Their eyes glow, they start hissing, and—even worse—they begin thrashing in all directions. The ones hanging from the top part of the bridge start swaying and coiling, while the ones on the bottom slither toward me, their eyes burning a strange, acid green.
I freeze as what looks like a rattlesnake comes super close to sliding against my cheek. But the second I stop, a milk snake slithers straight over my dirty Vans.
I don’t normally have anything against snakes—in fact, I’ve always kind of liked them. I’ve done several science fair projects about them, and I was even the first one to volunteer to touch the boa constrictor at our field trip to the zoo. And since the milk snake isn’t venomous and doesn’t seem to want to bite me, anyway, I wait for it to pass.
But then more and more snakes come toward me—garter snakes, pythons, and what I’m pretty sure is a giant king cobra that has no business being on the loose in western Massachusetts. One or two snakes is no big deal, but having twenty or thirty of them pile on me is something else entirely. Especially when there are no zookeepers around to make sure they stay in line.
A coral snake comes really close to wrapping around my arm, and my heart rate kicks up another notch, because no. Just no. Venomous snakes arenotokay.
Not to mention, the closer they get to me, the brighter their eyes glow.
These aren’t normal snakes. I don’t know what they are and I don’t know what they want, but as what I’m pretty sure is a black mamba starts working its way over to me, I decide enough is enough.
I kick out at the ones close to me, shaking them off my feet and ankles. But that just seems to make the entire pit of snakes angry. Suddenly, they go from trying to wrap around me to lunging at me, mouths open and fangs bared.
Instinct screams at me to drop Paris’s suitcase and make a mad dash for the end of what’s beginning to feel a lot more like a tunnel than a bridge. But everything that matters to him is in this suitcase—a whole year’s worth of clothes and games and books and uniforms. There’s no way I can just leave it here on this nightmare bridge.
So I hold on to it, half carrying, half dragging it as I gallop awkwardly toward safety. But for every snake I avoid,another one manages to wrap itself around my wrist, my arm, myneck. I claw them off, one after another, until a red and black California mountain kingsnake finally manages to bite me.
Its fangs sink into my arm, and I scream as I shake it off. It hisses at me in return, but then the strangest thing happens. In the space between one breath and the next, they all go from vicious attack snakes back to a simple lattice on the bridge.
What the heck?!
I do stop now, dropping Paris’s suitcase as tears burn my eyes. Mountain snakes may not be venomous, but that doesn’t stop their bites from hurting a lot.
But when I look at my arm, there’s almost no blood at all. And the bite looks like it’s already healing.
I don’t know how that’s possible, and before I can figure it out, Paris yells, “Penelope! Look out!”
I glance around wildly, expecting a giant black mamba to start attacking out of thin air. But there’s nothing…until all of a sudden, a bright red truck comes barreling straight toward me. I freeze for one long second that feels like an eternity—like infinity—before I come to my senses and try to jump out of the way.
But that second costs me, and I’m mid-leap when the truck slams straight into me.
4.A Rolling Suitcase Gathers No Flowers
SHOCK ROCKETS THROUGH ME, FOLLOWEDimmediately by the fear that I’m never going to see Anaximander’s. All my careful planning, my entire summer of preparation…it’s all gone. Just like that.
Tears spring to my eyes as I think about my mom and dad, about Paris. About how I hope they don’t blame themselves for this—although Paris could have warned me a few seconds faster. Then again, that’s brothers for you…
I take a deep breath, try to take stock of the situation—and realize, shockingly, that I’m okay.
I’m still on the bridge.
My feet are back on the pavement.
My brother’s suitcase is lying on its side, but other than that, it’s perfectly fine.
And somehow, so am I.
It makes absolutely no sense, but somehow, despite all the evidence and laws of physics to the contrary, the truck didn’t actually hit me. In fact, it didn’t even graze me.
I glance down at myself to make sure I’m not missing something, but there’s not a scratch on me—even the snakebite from just a few moments ago has disappeared.
This is weird. Really, really,reallyweird.
But I’m okay. I’m really okay, and I’m not about to question my good fortune. At least not right now.
Instead, I grab the suitcase before another car can come along and finish the job. Or before the snakes decide to wake back up and go for an encore.
