Crash

Aside from crocodiles, eight of the ten most deadly snakes in the world call Australia home. It's the only country that I know of that have snake removal people as a home service. Service your furnace, service your fridge, service your killer snakes, yeah! Nothing like opening your shower door and finding a deadly snake curled up and waiting for company. On the beaches getting eaten by sharks or salt water crocs is a constant risk and many beaches have shark nets to keep them safe.

And to add to the danger list there's the ravenous Drop Bear, the reputed carnivorous cousin of the cuddly Koala Bear. Drop Bears inhabit trees and will drop on the head of unsuspecting tourists and other unsuspecting prey. Tourists are advised to put forks in their hair or dab that horrible vegemite concoction in their armpits or behind their ears. Australians like to tease the unwary tourists so if you see one walking around a tree looking up in trepidation, you'll understand.

Even the Australian Museum, the oldest museum in Australia based in Sydney gets in on the act with this fake description:

"The entry classifies the Drop Bear as Thylarctos plummetus and describes them as "a large, arboreal, predatory marsupial related to the koala", the size of a leopard, having coarse orange fur with dark mottling, with powerful forearms for climbing and attacking prey, and a bite made using broad powerful premolars rather than canines. Specifically it states that they weigh 120 kilograms (260 lb) and have a length of 130 centimetres (51 in)"

Add in poisonous Spiders, Jellyfish, Stonefish, Emus and other creatures there's an incredibly LONG list of dangerous Australian creatures. Even the famous Kangaroo or Ostriches can gut a human with it's talons or crush a chest with it's kicks. In fact, the list of things that won't kill or hurt you in Australia is probably shorter.

Australia has a greeting that has become world famous. Most tourists think that they're going to get fed when Australians offer to throw something on the Barbie if they come visit.

Not so!

They're saying that if anything deadly wanders by, they'll try to burn it before it kills you. The Barbie is the first point in their home defence systems, part of a national strategy to keep themselves alive.

But I digress.

Brad showed me how to loop a rope over a tree branch hanging over the water and fill the container staying well away from the pond. I should also watch behind me as the croc would likely try to hide in the grasses and take me from behind. The croc had forever, I just had to make one mistake.

It was a sobering conversation and I was grateful to have him around.

Back at the campsite we boiled some water and cleaned Jared up best we could. Neither of us had any idea of how to deal with his wounds. We tried to straighten his arms out, but looking at the head wound, I was sure his skull was badly fractured. His eyes were still dilated and his breathing ragged. I didn't think it sounded like it was as strong as it had been. Was he deteriorating? I didn't know.

I got an ice cube out of the cooler. Carefully rolling Jared on his side I dripped a few cold drops of water into his ear. His eye reaction was immediate. That gave me some relief knowing that he wasn't brain dead. That could change with the obviously fractured skull if there was hemorrhaging inside, but for now there was something still working in there. Concussed yes, certainly fractured, but not completely gone.

We huddled around the fire and talked as the evening desert chill set in. There was no doubt we were in deep trouble. No vehicle, no one expecting us back for a week or so and no way of communicating. We had a badly, maybe critically injured person and little in the way of skills to deal with him.

We did have a good supply of food, water and the necessary camping gear. Nothing had been damaged. We also had a pistol to help protect against wildlife. Dingoes, a kind of feral dog were known to hunt in packs and could be dangerous to us if they decided to attack.

The best plan we could come up with was using sticks to dig an S.O.S. in the desert soil and maybe use some rocks to pin down some extra blue tarps we had. The hope was a plane flying over might spot the signal and send help. There was little else we could do. There was no phone signal and we certainly weren't walking a hundred miles in the desert with my injured husband.

We did briefly consider Brad trying to walk out alone, but there was no way he could carry enough water for days in the desert and we weren't aware of any other water sources between here and there. He might make it, but it would be at tremendous personal risk and it wouldn't gain us much time. Other than that it was just wait. The camp would send someone when we didn't show back up in a week. When I thought about it I realized it was Saturday and we wouldn't be expected back till the following Monday. That meant nine days, maybe even more, if the camp didn't react immediately.

But my gut told me Jared wouldn't survive that long.

Brad and I huddled in our sleeping bags that night. I wasn't in the mood for anything and he seemed to understand. He held me tightly as I sobbed for a long time over Jared and promised he'd get me out alive. Deep down we both understood Jared wasn't going to make it.

The next morning Jared's breathing was definitely weaker and there was an underlying wheeze to it. I wondered if pneumonia was setting in.

After eating we set up our SOS signal. Brad had another idea and pulled the tires off the Jeep and stacked them. The rubber would burn with a thick black smoke that could be seen for miles. If a plane flew anywhere near they would investigate the smoke. Dessert wildfires can be destructive and they would come to check it out.

Finished with our efforts the day wore on and by nightfall Jared's breathing was so weak I wondered if he'd make it to morning. There were occasionally small intervals now between his breaths and I knew that wasn't good. I'd seen that in my biology lessons. It was called Cheyne-Stokes breathing pattern and was an indication he was approaching the last hours of life.

I was gutted, forlorn and depressed. When we went to bed that night I clung to Brad and pulled him over me guiding him into my moistness. I felt this compulsive need to feel alive in the middle of this disaster. I craved his life giving fluids like it would counteract the Grim Reaper creeping up on us. I could feel the pulse of his evilness circling the camp perimeter just out of sight in the darkness, razor sharp scythe poised to take another soul.

As we moved together I stared up into the crystal clear starry dessert sky realizing what a small part we played in the scheme of the infinite universe and how helpless we really were. Without all the veneer of civilization we had grown away from the skills of handling real life.

I reached out and flailed my hand around until I found Jared's hand and clung to it like he could share in the three of us being together. He seemed to relish it in life, perhaps it could comfort him in his final moments.

Finished and feeling the warmth of Brad's life giving fluids in my belly I intended to stay awake and hold Jared's head in my lap sharing his final moments should he pass away in the night. Sadly, it was all for naught, I fell asleep.

It was a quiet dry rustle that roused me the next morning. I was shocked that I'd fallen asleep and yet glad that Jared was still breathing, albeit even weaker than the night before.

I was lying on my side facing him and about to get up when a slight movement focused my eyes lower on his body. Coiled between his legs was a large snake.

Jared had been restless during the night and his sleeping bag had slid to the side. His cock was exposed, maybe two thirds tumescent with the glans hanging down. The snake was focused in on that erection.

Snakes have heat sensors as well as odour receptors and eyesight. In the cold dessert air that partial hard-on, engorged with hot blood, must have stood out to it's heat receptors like a blazing neon sign on a Broadway Theatre.

I studied the snake carefully. Initially I thought it was a coastal Taipan the third deadliest snake in the world. But I realized there were small differences. It was an Inland Taipan, the deadliest snake on earth. Possessing one of the fastest strike times, it often strikes so fast it bites multiple times before you even know you've been bit. It always envenoms when it strikes. It hunts warm blooded mammals exclusively and it's poison is adapted for that.

It was a little strange, we were well away from any area known to have Inland Taipans although isolated populations of them had been found in other places in eastern central Australia. The biologist part of me celebrated, I'd just found something nobody would have expected out here in the west.

The other part of me was scared shitless. Many mammals are born hairless and are basically small round tubes of meat with tiny legs. Looking at Jared's cock it too looked like a small round tube of meat, only missing the legs. Maybe that was holding the snake back. Animals tend to be cautious when something strange shows up. There's no doctor down the street to fix them so they'll be careful before committing themselves.

But if the snake struck, the Inland Taipan injects venom strong enough to kill a hundred men and strikes an average of eight times, counting on killing the prey so fast it didn't have time to fight.

I carefully drifted my hand intending to grab the machete on the other side of the still sleeping Brad. My hand barely moved when with a hiss the snake instantly re-oriented itself to face me. They grow up to eight feet long and this one was large enough to span the distance between us if it struck.

I froze.

Time stood still while the snake examined me, it's tongue flickering in the air, it's cold heartless eyes staring at me. I almost peed the sleeping bag I was so scared. It was all I could do to keep my body from shivering in fear knowing that one twitch and I'd be dead. Finally deciding I didn't represent danger or food the snake turned again toward Jared and went back to examining his semi-tumescent cock.

Minutes, seeming like hours dragged by, until with a blur, the snake suddenly struck.

I'll never know the why of what happened next. Perhaps it was the sensation of the scales moving over his skin. Perhaps it was just random, but with the head of the snake plunging toward his cock Jared chose that moment to move slightly, the head of his cock bobbing in response.

The snake, descending on it's prey at almost hypersonic speeds with a wide open mouth, drove his cock right down it's throat before it could pull back.

Snakes can swallow prey many times their size. But first they have to unlock their jaw bones to stretch around their meal. It isn't an instant process and with the size of Jared's cock driving down it's throat, I heard the delicate crackle of bones breaking in the joints of it's jaws.

It took a few seconds and then I saw the sudden bulge as Jared's cock went fully erect. and I heard more snapping of bones in the snake's head through the cold crisp air. Some part of his damaged brain was still responding to stimulation. The snake was writhing around struggling to pull back and I realized it was stuck, although still sinking it's fangs in. Shrieking I reached over a sleeping Brad and grabbed the machete and with one blow lopped the rest of the snake's body off. Both parts flailed and struggled while Brad woke up and taking in the scene screamed, and scrambled away in a backwards crab walk.

It would have been hilarious under different circumstances.

In a flash I had Jared's head in my lap rocking him and telling him how much I loved him. I found myself staring at the remaining head of the snake watching those cold reptile eyes cloud over and turn milky in death. It jaws, still spasmodically trying to bite, slowly trembled to a stop. It deserved to die for taking my husband from me.

I stroked Jared's cheeks feeling his heart start to race and his muscles spasm. He lasted fifteen minutes before the massive dose of venom finished him. At the end his body was bowed in a arch and blood was flowing freely from all his orifices as his organs shut down. There was a final phlegmy cough and a death rattle echoed through the air and his breathing stopped. Later the coroner report explained he had been bitten six times, enough venom to kill six hundred men. But it also said Jared wouldn't have survived the head wound either without medical care and nine days would have been eight days too long.

I refused to let Jared go cradling him in my arms for hours, watching as death turned his face a grisly grey and his eyes glazed over till I couldn't stand it and closed them. I was grief stricken, bawling my face off, while Brad respected his distance. He was gone! My husband, my friend, my companion, the man I'd spent hundreds of days and nights with just erased from the world. I'd never be able to talk to him again, touch him, tell him I loved him or listen to his infectious laughter. Those hands would never touch me in love again and his lips would never seek mine out. Life had turned a dismal shade of sadness.

Finally I had to let go so we could bury him. In the hot dessert sun he wouldn't last long and it would attract predators like the Dingoes. Brad dug a hole with the spade and I collected large rocks to cover his grave. In the days that followed I spent hours sitting beside that grave talking to Jared and telling him how sorry I was for everything.

I wanted to remove the remnants of the snake, but Brad pointed out the real story was a little out there and it would be best if we buried him with the evidence intact. That turned out to be prescient advice.

It was the Tues of the following week before the camp plane flew over us, waggled it's wings and headed back. A few hours later two large trucks arrived with supplies and first aid.

Back at camp the police were called and promptly dispatched to recover Jared's body. Brad and I were fine. A little sun burned, but otherwise ok.

Distraught by the events I kept to myself. The company had been wonderful telling me to take as long as I liked before heading back to Perth or Canada. Jared's funeral was held a couple of weekends later in Perth and the company provided the plane for those who wanted to attend.

I heard nothing from the police until a month later. The knock on the door at my house in the camp surprised me and I opened it to two police officers, "can we talk with you a minute Maam?"

I showed them to the kitchen table and got us all coffee.

One officer asked me politely to go over the circumstances of Jared's injury and death again.

I was busy explaining the part about waking up to the snake when the other officer leaned forward, " you sicced that snake on him didn't you?" in a snarly voice.

I stared at him in shock and the pent up emotions roiling in me snapped at the ridiculous accusation. My thrown coffee cup caught him on his eyebrow opening a large gash while a shrieking harridan flew over the table at him talons extended raking his face and eyes and taking him to the floor. He was screaming like a girl while I tore him up. The pulsing rage in me wanted to kill him.

The other officer picked me up and pushed me away, stepping on the other officers arm as he struggled to un-holster his gun, "don't even think about pulling that gun you idiot. Why don't you go out in the wilderness and try to corral one of those snakes if you think they can be sicced on someone. You'll be dead before you blink. Do you have any idea how fast those mother fucking snakes are? Fucking city boy."

The dripping contempt in his voice for his partner was obvious.

Shaking his head in disgust he turned to me, "I'm sorry Maam. He's an idiot. The coroner's first verdict was clear that your husband was killed by the snake bite, but in any case he wouldn't have survived the injury from the accident. My colleague here is new and a little too eager."

Wait a minute, first verdict?

His face got a lot harder suddenly and the good cop disappeared. His next words had the blood draining from my face, "but you did sic that snake on your husband didn't you. You're a biologist and know those snakes hunt by sense of smell and rubbing that dead rat all over his cock was bound to bring a snake. It's their natural prey. Unfortunately for you a few unexplained rat hairs were left behind in his pubes and we went back and searched around till we found the rat's body. DNA showed it was the same rat hair as the hair left on Jared's cock. We also found those hairs on your clothing."

He frowned for a moment, "what I don't understand is why you just didn't wait for him to die from his head wound? As a biologist you've had enough training to recognize death. The coroner said you described his symptoms perfectly and had a good understanding about his deteriorating condition and knew he was heading for his last moments. You and your boyfriend would have been free and clear if you'd just done nothing. But I guess it will all come out."

He took a moment to look satisfied, then hauled his cuffs out, "any explanations about all this you'd like to share with us Maam?"

I sat there with my mouth hanging open staring at those cuffs stunned, trying to process what he was saying.

He nodded his head, "I can see by your reaction to that information and your violent reaction to my colleague's accusation that this is all news to you. Perhaps it's even more news that we also found the same rat hairs on Brad's clothing." He pulled out a walkie-talkie, "bring him in."

Two other cops marched Brad in, hands cuffed behind his back.

"Brad?" I whispered, seeking out the innocence in his eyes. My heart pleading for his innocence!

"I thought it was the only way we could be together without him Chloe, you kept saying he MIGHT die," he confessed, head hanging down, eyes refusing to meet mine.

"I had no idea he was really dying, or I never would have done it."

The End