Johnny shook his head.
“I don’t read books. I’ll be okay.”
“I’ll lock you in and pull the shutters. You don’t have to worry. No one ever comes here, but let’s play it safe.”
Johnny’s fingers touched his gun.
“I’ll be fine… and thanks for everything.”
With a bowl of cold rattlesnake stew by his side, a supply of cigarettes and a flask of ice water, Johnny settled down on his hard little bed. Freeman swung the heavy slatted wooden shutter’s closed.
“It’ll be hot later,” he said, “but better too hot than sorry.” He seemed to sense the danger Johnny was in. “Sorry to leave you, but I’ve got to find a cranebrake rattler. The hospital is yelling for its serum. Could take me all day.”
“I’m fine,” Johnny said. “Maybe I could use a book… anything but the Bible.”
Freeman went into the living-room and, after a while, came back with a copy of
Johnny hadn’t read a book since he had left school. When he found this book was the story of the Mafia organization he became absorbed in it. Time fled away. So absorbed was he that he forgot to eat the cold stew and it wasn’t until he found the light was fading as it came through the slatted shutters and he had difficulty in seeing the print that he realized he was hungry, that his ankle no longer ached and it was 17.20 by his watch.
“If books are as good as this one,” he thought, “I’ve been missing something.”
He was finishing the cold stew and about to light a cigarette when he heard the lock turn in the cabin door. Hurriedly, he dropped his cigarette and reached for his gun.
“It’s me,” Freeman called and came into the small bedroom. “I think there’s trouble. There are three men heading this way. They didn’t see me. They’re all carrying guns.”
Johnny struggled upright.
“They’ll be here in ten minutes or less. Come on, Johnny, I can hide you where they won’t think of looking.” Freeman hoisted Johnny up on his left foot. “You hop. Don’t put any weight on your bad foot.”
Johnny grabbed his gun and holster, then supported by Freeman, he hopped through the living-room and out into the sunshine. Freeman steered him to the big lean-to behind the cabin.
“This is my snake house,” Freeman said. “You don’t have to be scared. They’re all in cages and can’t touch you.”
He manoeuvred Johnny into the semi-darkness and Johnny could hear the dry rattling sound a rattlesnake makes when alarmed. Freeman propped him up against the wall, then moving to a big eight-foot-high cage, he dragged it forward. Johnny saw the cage was alive with writhing rattlesnakes. Freeman caught hold of him and got him behind the cage and propped him against the wall.
“You’ll be okay,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’ll fix the bed. They won’t know you’re here,” then he moved the cage back on Johnny, wedging him against the wall and out of sight.
Johnny could smell the snakes. Their movements chilled him. Leaning hard on his sound foot, keeping his injured foot slightly off the ground, he set himself to wait.
Berilli, flanked on either side by Freddy and Jack suddenly came on the clearing and Freeman’s cabin.
For hours now they had combed the jungle and they were sick and tired of the search. They had become careless. Berilli had realized after three or four hours that Johnny could be lying, hidden, in any of the big thickets and by keeping still, they could have walked past him.
He realized this operation had been too hastily mounted. What they needed in this goddamn place was a dog to flush Johnny out. But now he was stuck with the operation and he was scared to go back to Massino and report no success.
He, Freddy and Jack had walked through the jungle for six gruelling hours. The only thing they had seen that moved was a snake. Then just when Berilli was about to call off the operation and admit defeat, they came on the clearing and the log cabin.
The three instinctively dodged back behind thicket.
“He could be here,” Berilli said.
They started across the clearing at the cabin, then they saw a tall, thin man, wearing shabby khaki drill come out of the cabin. He walked over to the well and began drawing water.
“Jack… you talk to him,” Berilli said.
“Not me, pal,” Jack said. “You chat him up… I’ll cover you.”
“So will I,” Freddy said and grinned. “You’re the boss, Lu.”
So Berilli moved out of the clearing, his heart thumping, wondering if Johnny was holed up in the cabin, taking aim at him through the slatted shutters.
Freeman looked up as Berilli approached him.
“Hi, stranger.” His voice was soft and calm. “Have you lost your way? I haven’t seen anyone this way for months.”
Berilli eyed him, keeping his gull behind him, out of sight.
“You live here?” he demanded.
“That’s right.” Freeman was perfectly at ease. “Jay Freeman: I’m the snake man.”
Berilli stiffened.
“Snakes? What do you mean?”
Patiently, Freeman explained.
“I collect serum for hospitals.” He paused, looking directly into Berilli’s suspicious eyes. “Who are you?”
“Have you seen a short, thick-set man with black hair, around forty years of age? We’re looking for him.”
“As I said, you’re the first human I’ve seen in months.”
Berilli looked uneasily at the cabin.
“You’d better not lie to me. If he’s in there, you’re in trouble and I mean trouble.”
“What’s all this about?” Freeman asked mildly. “Are you the police?”
Ignoring the question, Berilli signalled to the other two who came out from behind the thicket.
“We’ll take a look at your cabin,” he said to Freeman as Jack and Freddy joined him. “Go ahead, bright boy, and stop flapping with your mouth.”
Freeman walked into the cabin. Using him as a shield, Berilli entered behind him, his gun in hand, his heart pounding, while Jack and Freddy waited outside. After a quick search, pushing Freeman always ahead of him, Berilli came out of the cabin and into the sunshine. He shook his head at the other two.
“What is that?” he demanded, seeing the lean-to.
“My snake house,” Freeman said. “Have a look. I’ve just caught a cranebrake rattler. Have you ever seen one?”
Crouched behind the snake cage, Johnny heard every word and he thumbed back the safety on his gun. He could hear a soft whistling sound and he knew who was out there: Freddy, a Mafia killer and more dangerous than any of the snakes, writhing and rattling around him.
“Go ahead,” Berilli said and prodded Freeman with his gun.
Again sheltering behind Freeman, Berilli peered into the lean-to, saw the cages, smelt the snake smell and backed away.
He crossed over to Freddy and Jack.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said. “We could search this goddamn jungle for months and still not find him.”
“That’s the brightest thing you’ve said so far,” Jack said.
Freeman watched the three men move off into the jungle, then he fetched a bucket of water from the well and returned to his cabin. He waited some ten minutes, then leaving the cabin, he moved into the jungle as quietly and as swiftly as one of his snakes. Without being seen or heard, he caught up with the three men and watched them meet up with six other men, watched them talk, then saw them get into two cars and drive away.
Then he returned to his cabin to release Johnny from his hidingplace and assure him the hunt was over.
SIX
