The python wrapped itself tightly around Coban's neck bringing gasps of horror from Ruth.
“No,” she screamed. Corban's face had turned o a deep shade of purple. Ruth glanced around the perimeter of the burnt out campsite. There was nothing left that wasn’t burnt to a cinder. Their fire fighting team had done everything they could but it was a hopeless situation. The wildlife had gone into a frenzy to try to escape the heat of the flames. Her head jerked back at the sound of Corban's choking coughs beneath the pressure of the thick scaly reptile. If she didn’t do something soon, her friend Jenny was going to be a widow.
Corban’s hands slipped slowly away from the python’s overpowering grip. He fell to the blackened ground with a thud.
Molly read and reread the words on the screen before her.
“I’m not sure if pythons would actually do that.” The voice startled Molly.
“Stephen, how many times have I asked you not to sneak up on me like that?”
Molly tried not to shiver from the affect of her husband’s sudden interruption. In her mind she had been a thousand miles away--trying to be there. There, in that place where death was about to… Stephens hands rested on her shoulders. Her heart beat quickened.
“Well, I’m just telling you what I think,” his response was slow and almost childlike.
Molly sighed heavily and rested her elbows on the desk. Her head slumped forward. “I just can't get it together today. Corban's going to die, and I can’t do anything to stop it.”
“Huh? Isn’t it Ruth that can’t save Corban?” Stephen scratched his head and flopped into a chair. “I’m confused.”
She glanced sideways at her incorrigible but handsome husband. “That’s because I’m the writer. The characters are a part of me.” She pushed the desk chair clockwise into a full circle. “They are here in this room. Ruth is scared and feeling useless. She’s begging me to work it out. Fast.”
Stephen’s eyes locked onto Molly’s. "Perhaps that’s why I’m not the writer,” he drawled slowly. “I don’t have ghosts around talking to me all day,” he chuckled.
It was Molly’s turn to be offended. Did Stephen think she was a psycho? “I thought you wanted me to be a stay at home writer,” she whispered.
Stephen took Molly in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he said, his tone showing genuinely regret. “I still don’t understand how all this works.”
The couple stayed in a quiet embrace until Stephen suddenly released his wife and stood.
“I have an idea,” Stephen said eagerly. He wandered over to the window and looked out at the murky skies. It had rained all week. “Why don’t drive out to my father's place. He still has his cabin by the lake. Dad told me on the phone yesterday that the weather was beautiful up there at this time of the year. We can visit him for a while, borrow the key, and head to the lake for the weekend.” In three big steps he had closed the short distance between them. He knelt in front of his wife. “Will being in the wild help your…um…Ruth find a way to save Coben from the phython's grip?”
Molly’s mouth drop open. “That’s a great idea. It’s not exactly wild but yes, it should clear this writer's block. She lunged forward to embrace Stephen, throwing him off balance.
They laughed while they packed their bags and loaded the car.
“Don’t forget to bring Corban and Ruth,” Stephen called climbing into the driver’s seat. He started the car and reversed through the gate. “Let’s go lose this writer’s block and rescue this young fireman.”
Molly laughed and continued the banter. “Ah, yes. Without Corban, I can’t get pass chapter three.”
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