Young Writers Society

Chapter 3: “Jane Doe”

~ Crotalus atrox ~

When dawn eventually came, she wore the garb of some unfortunate soul who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Her coppery hair was finally presentable, too. For the first time in forever she walked the world unbound. Every step she took brought her farther from that place and its people and closer towards the past she so desperately wanted to uncover.

Of course, she’d have to be careful — after all, the hunt was still on. She could find pictures of herself on every newspaper and television and heard word of her escape on the radio and in people’s discussions wherever she went. Thank god the poor woman she jumped had a hoodie. It was the only way she had to hide her face.

Her mind wandered back to her escape. All of it was a bit baffling. The way she fought and shot made her wonder if she had combat training. She quivered with excitement at the memory. The thrill of the kill…Oh, didn’t she love it? The taste of blood on her lips? The delightful bang of the gun? The adrenaline, the battle, the victory. The primal purity of the combat and the death: it was fighting to survive, there were only two ways it could end, and in those last moments you saw nothing but the purest form of the one who found themselves meeting the Grim Reaper for the first and last time.

“This is why I chose you,” the voice rang in her ears. Smooth, feminine, seductive, but, most of all, very familiar.

The woman chuckled, murmuring softly to herself in reply. “I missed you during that little escapade.”

“I was there. Lights don’t just go out on their own, you know.”

“No, no I suppose they don’t.” Another quiet laugh. “Schizophrenia…they can’t attribute it all to being insane now.”

“You aren’t even sure I’m real. How can you be? Maybe all of this is just one of your fevered dreams. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened.”

She considered this for a few moments. “No, but…That blood on my lips wasn’t just in my head. The shadows weren’t, either.”

“Maybe there is still hope for you yet.”

“Hope for me doing what? Not coming back off the deep end, certainly.”

“No, no, that’s what I like about you, sweetheart. You’re too far gone to come back. You’ll know what I mean soon enough.”

“Hm.” It seemed the voice wasn’t in a wholly informative mood at the moment. She ran a finger over the cold steel of the gun tucked into the back of her pants, just to check its presence. The movement was more habitual than anything else. Sure enough, it was there, offering her the only security she had.

One bullet. One name. One target. One more life to take before her job was done.

Kevin Kennewick. The one doctor she hadn’t been able to end. The one that had headed the whole thing.

The one who knew her.

She didn’t know from where or why or how, but she did know that she hated him with every fiber of her being. She’d only once wanted to kill with such vehemence and passion — only she didn’t know who or why that was. She needed to remember. But how? She didn’t have the slightest clue as to where to begin.

Then again, did it really matter? She was free and on the hunt. There was no reason to ruin that with mysteries that were unlikely to be able to be solved.

The woman paused at the window of a reptile shop, gazing at the Emerald Tree Boa laying in its enclosure on display. She felt an odd pull towards it, a familiarity, yet another one of those nagging feelings that there was something she knew and was missing. Curious — and, admittedly, a little bored — she went inside. Reptiles lined the walls: boas, pythons, legless lizards, bearded dragons, caiman lizards, and the list went on. Towards the back there was a smaller section of tarantulas. It was what sat below them that caught her eye, however: a coiled tan serpent with a sticker of a red skull on the front of its cage.

Venomous, it read. Under that: Western Diamondback Rattlesnake (‘Texas Diamondback’): Crotalus atrox.

She squatted in front of the glass and gazed in upon it. It was a beautiful creature — mottled scales formed the popular diamondback pattern and ended in a three-scaled rattle. The face was triangular and smooth with vertical-pupiled eyes that were uniquely gorgeous in an almost alien way. Pits were visible on the sides of its snout.

Chhhk, chhhk.

She found herself kneeling near a rattler in the dust, watching it in wonder from a couple feet away. It gazed squarely back at her with its head raised and tail flicking in dirt the same color as its scales. Around them, golden fields seemed to go on forever, disappearing into the rolling, oaken hills.

Chk. Chk. Two short, staccato shakes, that she only later learned meant it was about to strike.

Before she could react it sank its twin fangs into her calf. She should’ve yelled, or jerked back, or grabbed it, or something; anything would’ve done, really. Instead she looked down at it in surprise and awe. She’d never seen such slender, long fangs so superbly sheathed in the gums of the creature now in her leg. This only lasted a moment, however, for the pain hit her milliseconds after and, this time, she did utter a cry of pain…

Viper.

She jerked back from the cage, shaken. Her breathing was quick and shallow and her heart rate was through the roof. What was that? Even as she thought the question she knew the answer. She knew that time, that place, that serpent. It’d changed her forever.

Then there was that last part. That word. Viper. That held more significance, perhaps, than the rest of the memory put together.

“Can I help you, miss?” a nearby voice startled her out of her reverie and she spun to face the speaker. He was a bearded man of average height and a stocky build, and seemed to be working there, judging by his demeanor.

She shook her head mutely and stepped back, slipping her hand under her sweater to grab the gun lest he recognize her from the numerous televisions. “No, thanks…I was just heading out.”

“Ah, well, come back soon!” he said with a smile before turning and wandering back down the aisle. She let out a bated breath and quickly made her way outside, perturbed by the experience but unable to figure out what it meant. For now, she would hunt, and that would have to be enough.