Coming to was proving difficult. Hitch's vision would fade in and out, showing him blobs of color and various sizes. His head and body were heavy, and his chest felt like ropes had been pulled tight around it. Gradually, his vision began clearing, and the weights began leaving his body. Only his chest remained in rough shape. It made sitting up painful. He coughed hard, spitting up a thick, grayish substance, matching the color of the smoke that had knocked him unconscious in the first place.

Where's Anah? Hitch looked around, his still-blurred vision making him dizzy despite being seated. He took it slow, and inspected his glasses. Miraculously, they hadn't been broken. Why would they? They had survived far worse, much like Troy's bush hat.

Sarge would be a big help right now, but I gotta find Anah. Hitch couldn't find any sign of the cobra. He braced himself against the side of a brick building on one side of the alley, and pulled himself up. He took a few cautious steps forward, testing his dizziness. I've been through worse. Find Anah. Anah's your mission now.

The truck and the men who attacked him had vanished. All that remain were tire tracks in the road from when they made a hasty getaway. The tracks stopped just before the traffic light several blocks away, by the sandwich shop. Hitch swore under his breath, but he wasn't giving up yet. He sprinted down the street to the sandwich shop. Surely someone here saw the truck.

He hadn't eaten in several hours, but the smell of food wasn't at all tempting when Hitch entered the shop. A man his age was behind the counter, preparing someone's order. "Can I help you, sir?" the man asked.

"Yeah, did you see a pickup truck pass by the shop?" Hitch replied. "It was dark red and had huge spots of rust near the wheel wells."

The man shook his head. "No. I see so many vehicles passing by that I could never keep track of any one of them."

Hitch couldn't blame him for that, so he began describing his and Anah's attackers—though he left out everything in regards to Anah. There was no way a stranger would believe him when he said these people kidnapped a talking Egyptian cobra.

"I did see two of the guys you're talking about. They work with the traveling circus. I overheard them talking about coming from Charlotte just a day ago." The man behind the counter looked a little uncomfortable. "They just jumped you in an alleyway?"

Hitch nodded. "Yeah, and took something of mine in the process."

"Well, there's a phone here so you can call the police—hey, where're you going?"

Hitch was already running out the door, following the signs pointing to where the traveling circus was set up. It had gotten much darker in the time since he was knocked unconscious, and lights were coming on all over Wilmington. He had to stop every once in a while to cough and expel more of the liquified potion from his lungs, but nothing was going to stop him from finding Anah. Moffitt's going to kill me if something happens to her.

He started down a street where the lamps were set further apart. The street led to a partly-forested park, and in the center of the park was a large tent. The tent was faded from age, but there was still something gaudy about it. Hitch took advantage of the darkness to slink around the trees and stayed off the path. He could see light spilling from the tent flap, and he could make out the shapes of a bus and a familiar truck parked near it.

Hitch spotted the tiny glow of someone lighting up a cigarette, and the smell of it wafted over to him. He got a little closer, spotting a burly man sitting on a crate. Won't be that much different to dealing with German guards, except I don't want to get charged with murder here. Hitch paused, keeping an eye on the bigger man. He might have magic. That alone is scarier than his size. He remained crouched behind a thick tree trunk, thinking hard. He was starting to wish he had gone back to get the rest of the Rats and Dietrich. Too late now. You're here. Rescue Anah. Who knows what they're doing to her!

He peered around the tree, watching the smoking man. He picked up a rock the size of his fist, and threw it against a tree trunk some distance away.

The burly man looked in the direction of the tree the rock hit. He stood, walking a few feet away from the crate. Hitch began creeping closer to the tent, taking longer strides as he was confident the big guard wasn't paying attention. He couldn't see any shadows telling him that there were people directly inside the tent, so he ducked into the tent just as the man turned back to resume sitting on his crate.

Hitch was struck in the face with an impressively strong combination of smells. Popcorn, cigarettes, hot pretzels, and all manner of soft drinks. He heard someone cursing and saying, "This stupid popcorn machine always has a problem when we get to a new city!"

"Well, you have until tomorrow morning to get it fixed, just like always," another voice said.

"It'd be nice to not have to fix it for once."

Hitch looked through a doorway to see a short, skinny man with half his body inside the guts of the popcorn machine, parts strewn around him. His heart was pounding so hard that he could barely think as he watched the man try to work. Nearby, his companion wasn't even trying to help, just observing with his arms folded over his chest and occasionally making snide remarks.

"Hey! What're you doing here?!" The one who hadn't tried to help spotted Hitch, and reached for a revolver hanging from his belt.

Hitch's reflexes were quicker. In a split-second, he punched his would-be assailant in the nose, knocking him flat to the ground, blood painting his face. Hitch yanked the man's revolver free, and pointed it at the man in the popcorn machine. "Don't move, and don't make a sound, got it?" he hissed.

He lowered the revolver upon seeing the face of the popcorn machine worker. He had to be barely out of his teens, but his freckled face was already lined from years of hard living. The kid's hands were raised and shaking as he stared up at Hitch. "Okay… okay," the kid said. "W-What do you want?"

"I'm looking for a snake. A black Egyptian cobra. She belongs to me, and people who work at this circus kidnapped her."

"She's probably in the boss's room," the kid said. "H-He'd been looking for a cobra ever since… s-since the last one he had for shows died. W-What're you going to do?"

"I just want the cobra back. She doesn't belong to your boss. I'm not going to hurt anyone unless I have to, okay?"

The kid nodded. "Okay. G-Good luck convincing Trevil to let you have the snake back, though. He won't let go of it easily."

"Well, he's gonna have to. Where's his room?"

The kid hesitated.

"Where is his room?"

"Opposite side of the arena."

"Thanks." Hitch wasn't sure what would happen if he let the kid go. He released his breath, trying to tell himself that this wasn't a German sentry. Memories of dealing with German guards and soldiers were coming in flashes, and he was struggling to shut them out. It's not the same. This might be all this kid knows. He's not the one who kidnapped Anah. Just let him go. Hitch gestured to the tent entrance with the revolver. "Go. Get out of here. Come back in the morning."

"I gotta finish fixing the machine! They'll kick me out if I don't!"

"Is that the kind of life you want to keep living, then? Get out of here. Run. You have choices out there."

Several heartbeats passed before the kid scrambled to his feet and sprinted from the tent. Hitch prayed that the kid was actually running away and not getting backup.

Most of the performers and workers were already in their quarters for the night. Hitch stayed out of the light as he made his way to the arena. The huge empty space in the middle of the tent was unlit, allowing Hitch to sprint across to the other side. He stopped when he heard voices.

"…Getting this cobra to behave is going to be much harder than I thought, but still, it is an impressive find." A man's voice, whom Hitch suspected was Trevil, went quiet for a moment. "Unbroken black scales, beautiful yet unnatural blue eyes. It is probably worth a fortune." More silence. "And you just found it in the streets?"

"We had to clobber the guy it was with, but, yeah."

Hitch recognized the voice of the man who tricked him with the flat tire.

"I assumed it would be tamer given that it was just riding the guy's shoulders like a pet."

"Apparently not," Trevil said.

Do they not know Anah talks? Is she keeping quiet on purpose? Hitch thought.

"With time, it'll start responding, but it looks like some discipline will be in order."

"We've already plucked its fangs. What next?" Trevil's henchman asked.

"Leave it be for now," Trevil replied. "I will think of something in the morning. Good work."

His henchman left. Hitch held his breath, remaining in the dark. His stomach turned with disgust. They took her fangs out? I mean, they can grow back, but still… I gotta get her out of there. Hitch glanced around, making sure he was alone before peering into the room. Anah was in a glass tank, surrounded by droplets of blood and curled up in a corner.

Trevil, dressed in a fancy brown suit, was standing in front of the tank. "I won't take kindly to bites," he said. "I can sense there is… something different about you, and I am curious to know what that is." He prodded Anah with his wand. "You're not an ordinary snake, I can tell you that, but what are you?"

Hitch swallowed nervously, and pressed the muzzle of the revolver against the back of Trevil's dark-haired head. "She's mine, that's what she is," Hitch hissed.

Trevil wasted no time in whirling around. The tip of his wand was less than an inch away from the center of Hitch's chest. There was a sound akin to a clap of thunder, and a flash of white. Hitch couldn't see anything apart from the white light, and heard nothing apart from ringing in his ears. He could feel himself flying backward, tearing through curtains separating the different sections of the tent, before plowing and sliding across the ground. The light gradually faded, as did the ringing. Pain pulsed through his chest, and his first thought was wondering whether or not he had broken ribs.

Hitch looked around once his senses came back around. He realized he was outside the tent, and Trevil was strolling through the huge tears out to where Hitch was laying, carrying his wand and a long whip.

"Now look," Trevil said. "You've ripped my tent. Someone will have to fix it."

Hitch raised his revolver. Trevil raised his wand and yanked the gun free with an invisible force. "You're not getting away that easily!"

Hitch scrambled to his feet, despite the surging pain in his chest. He heard the whip cracking, and a sudden sharp pain exploded in the lower part of his right leg. He stumbled, nearly running face-first into a tree. Blood was running down into his sock. Hitch resisted the urge to limp, despite the uncomfortable pulsing of blood flowing from his wound. He refused to look back, afraid Trevil was right behind him. Just keep running. Keep running.

And run he did, not looking back once.

Hitch could still feel fluid in his lungs from the potion thrown at him earlier as he finally stopped running. He came to a stop by his car, frantically getting in and speeding off to his parents' home. His right leg still felt like it was on fire from the whip striking him, and his chest heaved with strained effort, both from being struck with magic and the effects of the potion. He kept looking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being followed as he drove home.

Relief crashed over him when he parked in his parents' driveway. He could see his mother, Moffitt, and Dietrich jogging out to greet him as he got out of the car. Suddenly, he found he could no longer stand on his right leg, and getting a full breath in was almost impossible. His vision blurred after he managed to shut the car door, and collapsed just as the three got to him. He wasn't fully unconscious, as he could hear Irena's panicked voice and felt Dietrich lifting him up.

"Set him on the couch!" Moffitt said. "Where's all this blood coming from—Easy, Dietrich."

Hitch was set down gently. He heard Troy saying, "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know."

"Something nicked his leg—look," Irena said.

"That's not a nick, Irena, that's a lash from a whip." Troy sounded somewhat disgusted.

"His breathing is a bit shallow," Dietrich said. "Should we bring him to a hospital?"

"Wait—where's Anah?" Troy asked.

"Is she still in his car?"

"I'll go check." Moffitt sprinted outside. A moment later, he came back, shouting, "She's gone!"

"Oh, that's great," Troy muttered. "Hitch? Hitch, can you hear me?"

Each blur in front of Hitch became less and less discernable. Spots of black expanded like water on paper, until his consciousness faded completely.

For a moment, Hitch wondered if he was going to wake up in the alley again. He wondered if everything that happened was a strange dream induced by the potion. Part of him wished it was. His consciousness was slow to return, but at least he could make out the shapes of Troy and Dietrich standing over him. There was something comforting about that.

"Irena? He is waking up," Dietrich said.

When Hitch could move a little easier, he tried sitting up, and his head was grabbed by his mother. He could see his father nearby, looking equally concerned.

"Are you okay, Mark?" Irena asked. "Please tell me you're okay."

"I'm alright, Mom," Hitch managed to say.

"What happened?" Troy asked. "Can you remember anything?"

"Let him wake up, for heaven's sake, Troy," Dietrich growled.

"I remember," Hitch said.

"Take it easy, honey, please," Irena begged.

It was much easier to breathe now, though his chest was still a little sore. Hitch sat up, breathing normally and trying to piece together his memories as best as possible. The pain in his leg reminded him quite quickly of Trevil and his whip. "Anah… Anah was kidnapped by a traveling circus," he grunted.

"She what?!" Moffitt snapped.

Hitch nodded, and recounted his story of being lured to the empty street and ambushed, followed by his first attempt to rescue Anah.

Troy looked visibly uncomfortable at all the mentions of Trevil's whip, but said, "So, we'll go after them together."

"I don't think we should just rush into this," Vanora said. "It sounds like this Trevil fellow is quite a dangerous warlock, and Hitch was struck with a pretty powerful potion in the alley." She looked at Hitch. "They used a potion typically used in disabling familiars and making them temporarily useless. Anah used to be one, so she doesn't have complete resistance to it."

"Based on what I heard, they assumed she was my pet," Hitch said. "They had no way of knowing she was a familiar."

"It's still a powerful potion that can knock something as large as a bear unconscious, and you breathed a great deal of it in. You need to rest and let it flush from your system."

"The closest we have to a magic user is Moffitt and his snake-charming ability," Troy said. "That's it. How the hell are we going to deal with this circus warlock?"

"Call the police," Irena said. "We don't need more of you getting hurt."

"I am inclined to agree with Irena," Dietrich said. "This is out of our hands."

"I'd hate to think what this creep is doing with Anah." Moffitt looked pale. "It's bad enough he pulled her fangs. What's next?"

"They plan on using her for shows," Hitch said.

"I don't think these people realize what they're dealing with. She won't cooperate. She's no ordinary cobra. They'll just keep hurting her, and I know for certain she's haunted by how she was treated in her previous life, and I will not let this group of amateur entertainers add to that!" In his fit, Moffitt slammed his fist on the dining room table.

Silence filled the room. Moffitt was looking down at the table, his hands and breath shaking as his anger swiftly fled his body. "S-Sorry, I… I-I shouldn't have done that."

"No one's blaming you for it," Troy said. "It's not exactly a secret that Anah's deathly afraid of being abandoned again. The longer we sit here and do nothing, the worse it'll be for her."

"We need to think about this logically, Troy," Dietrich said. "We are unprepared to go against these people."

"Dietrich, I've done worse—"

"No, you haven't," Vanora interrupted. "You're going against people who have likely been acquainted with magic their entire lives. They're unpredictable."

"Well, so am I."

"Troy, you don't understand this, and Jack's told me you don't care to."

"Sarge," Tully said. "Vanora's studied magic. She knows what she's talking about. Listen to her."

"Alright. Tell me how we defeat them." Troy faced Vanora.

She gave him an incredulous look. "I only know how it works. There's no one-size-fits-all strategy with fighting witches and warlocks."

"This is Troy, Vanora," Dietrich said. "There is no strategy at play here."

"Which might actually work." Moffitt snapped his fingers. "They won't expect Hitch to come back. They won't expect Troy. They won't expect me. If anything, they'll be frightened of me if I show up with some, ah, companions." Moffitt grinned. "What venomous snakes are native here?"

"Eastern diamondbacks, timber rattlers, copperheads, water moccasins, and coral snakes," Irena replied. She looked over at her husband. "Noah, weren't you telling me they've found some pretty large diamondbacks in the same park that circus is in?"

"Oh, yeah." Noah's eyes widened. "Huge diamondbacks. Over six feet long with massive rattles."

"They'll do nicely," Moffitt said.

"I don't like that look on your face." Troy gave Moffitt a curious expression.

Moffitt's grin got bigger. "I have an idea, and I think you'll actually like it."

Hitch badly wanted to be involved. After all, he felt partly responsible for Anah getting kidnapped. He drank plenty of water and tea to help with flushing the potion from his body, but it would still take time for it to be fully removed. Despite that, he made it clear that he was going on this rescue mission.

As the hours of the night whittled on, Hitch eventually approached Moffitt when he found the lanky Englishman on his own in the kitchen. He struggled to start conversation, or even look Moffitt in the eye. "Hey… you got a minute?"

"Yes? What seems to be the trouble?" Moffitt asked.

"You're probably mad at me, aren't you?"

"No. Why would I be?"

"Because I'm the one who was with Anah when this happened. I… should've done more to protect her."

"I would've failed in a similar way."

"You would've fought harder, though."

Moffitt shook his head. "Harder fighting wouldn't have done a thing against that potion they used. You were badly outmatched, and I would've been outmatched in the same way. I don't blame you in the slightest for what happened."

"Still feels like… I didn't do enough. And with… what you said about Anah being haunted by what happened in her previous life… now I feel like it's my fault that she has to go through that again."

Moffitt was quiet while thinking and preparing a cup of tea for himself. "Don't worry about it. I'm the one who has to watch her suffer and try to help on a near-daily basis, and there are some days when I feel… completely powerless to help her. She's always going to be afraid of being abandoned, and the best I can do is reassure her that she won't."

"But you're not responsible for what happened. This… I feel like… I am responsible. I shouldn't have taken her to meet Molly. I should've just waited until the wedding."

"You had no way of knowing this would happen."

"Anah acted weird when we passed the signs for the circus. I-I should've—"

"Did she tell you that those signs made her nervous?"

"No. She told me that she was thinking about Dietrich's prophecy."

Moffitt sighed. "So, she lied."

"Yeah. She… did. She lied." Hitch looked at Moffitt as he continued making his tea. "Why? Why would she—"

"I don't know. She may have been afraid you wouldn't take her seriously, or she was trying to convince herself that being afraid of a sign for a circus of all things was silly."

"She's psychic! We all know that. Why would she assume I'm not going to take her seriously?"

"Reasons only she knows."

Hitch sank down into a chair. The wound on the back of his leg still made it difficult to stand for long periods of time. "I wish… wish she'd said something. I would've turned around."

"When did you see the signs?"

"On our way to Molly's."

Moffitt pulled a carton of milk from the refrigerator. "I think that may be a reason Anah kept quiet—she didn't want you to not see Molly."

Hitch's shoulders slumped. "We could've…" He sighed heavily. "I don't know. There're so many things we should've or could've done and I just… don't know anymore."

Moffitt gave him a sympathetic look. "Well, I already told you that I'm not angry with you. I'm not sure that helps."

"It kinda does."

"Whatever happens, you're not responsible for it."

"That doesn't seem right."

"It's important to know when you are responsible for something, because passing blame is never a good idea. However, it's also important to know when you're not responsible for something, because taking all of the blame is equally devastating. As I'm sure you remember, that's something I've been… managing all my life."

Hitch had lost count of all the times Moffitt had taken the blame or apologized for things he wasn't responsible for. His admission of guilt would come quickly—almost too quickly, like a conditioned reaction. He could remember Troy occasionally telling Moffitt not to apologize, but simply telling him didn't work. It would still happen.

"It's a hard thing to stop. Trust me, I know." Moffitt sighed. "Perhaps we should revisit this conversation when we get Anah back. Maybe… having her here and safe will allow our minds to clear."

Hitch nodded. "Maybe." He thought for a moment, watching Moffitt stir his tea. "What is the worst these people can do to her? She can't die."

"Her body can take a lot more damage than an average snake. Normally, she sleeps in order to heal, but if the damage is too extensive, her spirit will be transported back to the temple, and she will wake up in a fully healed body."

"Has this happened before?"

"No. She told me about it a long time ago, and it's something that she has innate knowledge of. It's also something she's afraid of, because it means waking up in the temple. It would make her time with us seem like a dream."

Hitch was quiet as he thought. He was surprised at how much he didn't know about Anah, despite having worked and fought alongside her during the war. "She seemed… different when we got her. She was more confident."

"She was hiding a lot. It took five years for her to tell me about her fears of abandonment, only because I came home one day and told her that I had been invited to meet a lady who was interested in me. For Anah, the possibility of me forgetting her and leaving her out suddenly became very real, and very frightening." Moffitt set his spoon by the sink, and took a sip of his tea. "I will admit, I did neglect spending time with Anah in the months leading up to and after my wedding to Vanora. But, do you want to know who she confided in about how she felt?"

"Who?"

"Troy."

Hitch raised his eyebrows. "Seriously?" That was the last name he expected to hear.

"Seriously. We had agreed to let Anah stay with Troy for the two weeks Vanora and I were in Malta for our honeymoon. They needed to spend time together regardless and learn to actually get along, and somehow… they did. He even stood up for her and has talked to me about being a bit more mindful of her, because oftentimes, she won't do it herself."

"Why?"

"She's afraid of making me feel guilty, even though I've said time and time again that she needs to speak up, otherwise we're never going to resolve this."

Learning all this didn't exactly help Hitch feel better. "Still feels like… I've just compounded onto this with… not being able to rescue her and letting this happen in the first place."

"She was in the room when you first confronted Trevil, wasn't she?"

"Yeah."

"She saw you try, and she does know you. You'd never retreat from saving one of us. Or her."

Hitch tried to let that sink in. "I noticed… she wasn't talking."

"Probably for her own safety. A talking snake would be far more valuable than an ordinary one, and she's likely in pain because of her fangs being pulled. She's lucky that's all they've done to her."

"So, we should rescue her soon."

"Yes, we should."

Troy entered the kitchen. "Everyone's gathered in the pool room. We're just waiting for you two."

"We'll be right there," Moffitt said. He turned to Hitch. "You can walk, right?"

In truth, Hitch wasn't sure. "Yeah. I can walk. I'm coming with you. I got Anah kidnapped. I should help save her."

"As long as you're sure." Moffitt didn't look certain, but he didn't argue. He followed Troy out of the kitchen, still holding his tea. Hitch quickly began trailing them. They headed through the library first, which had a pair of steps leading down to the pool room. Though the pool room was technically Noah's, it had a perfect blend of his interests and Irena's, with shelves containing photographs taken for his sports articles and potted plants lining them. The pool table had been cleared of cue sticks and billiard balls, and a map of the park had been laid down on top.

"This plan is ridiculous," Dietrich said once Moffitt and Hitch joined them, "but… it might work."

"The more ridiculous, the better," Troy said. "Moffitt? You want to explain how this'll work?"

"With pleasure." Moffitt took one of the cue sticks and drew an invisible circle around where the circus tent was set up on the map. "I will be gathering up rattlesnakes to set up a perimeter of sorts around the tent. I won't need that many, just enough to create such a ruckus that it sounds like there are hundreds lying in wait in the woods. Four of us will be behind the rattlesnakes, at these points here on the map, to prevent anyone from escaping. That leaves a fifth to go in and rescue Anah. I can't go because I need to be in constant communication with the rattlesnakes."

Troy opened his mouth to volunteer, but Hitch spoke first with, "I'll do it."

"Are you sure?" Moffitt asked.

"I'm sure."

"You can't volunteer just because you feel guilty. You need to be confident that you can pull this off."

"I am confident I can pull this off, but I do also feel like I have to do this."

"This is dangerous," Dietrich said. "You need to think rationally about it."

"I am thinking rationally!"

"Judging by your tone, you're not," Tully said.

"I've already been in that tent. I have a rough idea of the layout, and I know where Anah's being kept. I'm the best person to do this."

The others glanced at each other. Troy sighed before saying, "You're positive you can do this? I'm not doubting your ability to rescue Anah. I just want to make sure your head's in the right place. If it's not, you're not going in."

"It's in the right place, Sarge."

"Okay." Troy squeezed Hitch's shoulder. "Then that's settled. You're going in and rescuing Anah. Let's shake it."

The last time Hitch prepared to storm a building with the Rats, it was in 1945, toward the end of the war. Five years prior, armed with a Thompson, relying on Troy's leadership to pull them all through. They did pull through, and he remembered the explosion of joy in his chest when word came through that the war was over. He remembered tears streaming down his face, grabbing Tully, Moffitt, and even Troy in a hug. He would be going home. They all would.

This time, he already was home, and they were storming a tent. Hitch drove out to the park, with the other three Rats and Dietrich. Moffitt rode up front while Troy, Dietrich, and Tully were squeezed together in the back. Being so skinny, Dietrich didn't look too uncomfortable in between Troy and Tully.

Hitch stopped near the opposite side of the park. It would be a bit of a walk, but it would prevent them from being spotted, and give Moffitt time to find all the snakes he needed. He turned the truck off, and suddenly the only sound he could hear was the pounding of his own heart. He looked over his shoulder at the others. Troy looked determined. Dietrich, too, looked determined, and Tully looked like he was ready for action, but there was a concerned look in his eyes.

Moffitt looked dazed for a moment, then shook his head. "I sense a couple of rattlesnakes not too far from here. Hitch, you'll come with me, but the rest of us should split up. You all know where to go?" Despite them being far away from the tent, he spoke quietly.

"I'm at the northeast corner," Troy said in a low voice.

"Southeast corner," Dietrich whispered.

"Northwest, by the creek," Tully said, equally quiet.

"Leaving me approaching from the southwest," Moffitt added.

"Remind me, why didn't we bring radios?" Troy asked.

"Because magic users can easily detect radio signals."

"What if someone's in trouble?"

"Trust the rattlesnakes. They'll relay information back to me."

"Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?"

"We're on a mission to save a snake. Do you have any idea how ridiculous that would sound to an outsider?"

"Anah's different."

"I know, but trust me."

"What if something happens to you and you lose control over the rattlesnakes?"

"It'll be fine."

Troy sighed. "Alright. I trust you. You know your abilities better than anyone."

Moffitt smiled, then turned to Hitch as the others got out of the truck. Everyone double-checked their handguns before taking off in their designated directions.

Hitch half-pulled back on his gun's slide to make sure a round was already chambered. "So, what is the plan in case something happens to you?"

Moffitt kept grinning. "Honestly, I didn't think that far ahead."

"You're not seriously that confident, are you?"

"In a way, I am. This isn't like anything we did during the war."

"The closest we got was fighting the Sorcery Division in North Africa when we first encountered Anah. And again when we helped what was left of Dietrich's unit."

"I know. Even those were fought mostly with guns. If there's one thing we as the Rat Patrol were good at, it was quick thinking, and you need quick thinking to fight magic users." Moffitt checked his revolver before motioning for Hitch to follow him into the woods. Neither of them had flashlights. The only light available was that of the moon.

Moffitt stopped rather suddenly. "Oh, hello. Found one." He knelt down, and came back up with a grunt—and a big eastern diamondback in his arms.

Instinctively, Hitch backed away.

"It's alright, she won't bite." Moffitt turned the rattlesnake so her head was facing him. He became still and quiet. Even his eyes became still as he became locked in telepathic communication with the rattlesnake.

Hitch would never not think what Moffitt was doing was strange, but it was fascinating. He kept following Moffitt and watching him guide and herd eastern diamondbacks of varying sizes and colors through the woods. There must have been somewhere between twenty or thirty by the time they could see the tent above the trees. The sight of so many deadly snakes gathered together was a little unnerving for Hitch, but he had complete faith in whatever Moffitt was doing to keep them placid.

They stopped not too far from the tent. No lights could be seen inside. Moffitt motioned for his little army of rattlers to go to their designated positions, but some were kept with him, their huge, heavy bodies draped on his shoulders.

"You look… comfy," Hitch said.

"Oh, do I?" Moffitt smirked. "They're not too good at holding on, and they're not nearly as smooth as cobras." His smirk faded. "Alright. Are you ready, Hitch?"

"Yeah."

"Go find somewhere to hide near the tent entrance."

Hitch turned, then paused to look back at Moffitt. "You'll be okay?"

"Yes. Go."

Hitch nodded, then started heading toward the tent entrance. He hid between several barrels. The smell of old cigarette smoke was heavy. His heart was pounding faster and faster. There was no turning back now. You have to do this. Get in, get Anah, get out.

A chill moved down his spine when the harsh buzzing sound of numerous diamondbacks shaking their rattles suddenly shattered the silence of night. Then the lights inside the tent began turning on.