Page 124 of The Killing Plains

“Who approved this?” Meggs croaked. He looked scared.

“I’ll take responsibility.” Colly nodded towards the entrance. “Is this the only door?”

“There’s one on the north side, too.”

“Who’s on duty there?”

“Some turbine-plant security guard, I think.”

Colly frowned. “I’d rather have a cop. Who’s on-site? Is there someone trustworthy we can put on that door—someone discreet?”

Meggs fidgeted with the brim of his hat. “Gibbins is around somewhere.”

“Radio him to meet you here. You know what to tell him.”

Colly turned and slipped through the entryway. Inside, the tent was crowded and stifling. The stench had worsened considerably since Thursday, a fetid brew of snake blood, offal, greasy food, and sweat. Fighting nausea, Colly assessed her surroundings. It was the worst possible venue for a confrontation. The killer could be armed, and a gunfight would be disastrous. Clear sightlines were impossible in a place like this. Hundreds of civilians—of which at least a third were children—were crammed into a comparatively small area with poor entrance and exit routes, not to mention open pens of lethal vipers. The open-carry laws in Texas meant that dozens in the crowd likely had weapons, and with the walls of the placemade of canvas, people both inside and outside the tent would be in danger.

Colly cursed softly and began to work her way towards the north end of the big top. A ring of spectators surrounded the holding pit that she’d seen on Thursday with Russ. She elbowed her way to the plywood wall for a better view of the faces gathered there. The pit still held hundreds of snakes, though fewer than Colly remembered. Inside it, a man and a woman, both in Kevlar gloves, tall boots, and camo-colored gaiters, were using long-handled tongs to load the creatures into large plastic bins, which they handed over the wall to workers who carried them away.

Colly saw no one she recognized either there or at the second ring, where a heavily bearded man was demonstrating snake-handling techniques. At the third ring, workers in blood-spattered rubber aprons stood at butcher blocks made of tree stumps, methodically beheading snake after snake with machetes and tossing the fanged heads and still-writhing bodies into separate buckets. Children pressed their sticky faces against the plexiglass windows of the enclosure and shrieked with each decapitating chop. There were more people at this pen than at any other, and Colly spent several minutes circling it hopefully before giving up and moving on.

At the last ring, workers were skinning and gutting the headless snakes before passing them on to the fry cooks in the food court. There Colly caught a glimpse of a sandy head and pair of broad shoulders disappearing behind one of the food stands. She hurried in pursuit, but when she grabbed the man’s arm, she found herself looking not at Russ but at a bearded biker-type in a t-shirt with “Shoot the Snowflake Libtards” stenciled across the image of an assault rifle wrapped in an American flag.

“Sorry,” Colly muttered. Cutting around a deep-fry station, she stumbled over a picnic table, nearly landing in the lap of anelderly gentleman with a white goatee. Talford Maybrey sat munching something brown and crispy off of a greasy paper plate.

His pink face beamed as he dismissed her apology with a wave. “It’s quite all right, my dear. Did Iris commission a police raid?” He chuckled, wiping his mouth and whiskers neatly with a napkin. “She doesn’t approve of fried foods, but the snake is particularly delicious this year. Care to join me?”

“Maybe later.” Colly’s eyes traveled over the faces clustered around the food trucks. “Where is Iris?”

“Off somewhere being interviewed by a San Angelo news crew.”

Colly inquired about the rest of the family.

“I’ve seen them all at various times,” Talford said. “But I don’t know where anyone is at the moment. It’s easier to lose people than to find them in this place.”

The food court was packed. Saying goodbye to Maybrey, Colly wove through the throngs to the tent’s north doorway. Jimmy Meggs had kept his word, and Colly was relieved to find Gibbins on guard there. She spoke with him briefly before ducking back inside.

The temperature under the big top was rising fast. Sweat trickled down Colly’s back, and her t-shirt clung damply to her skin as she worked her way down the east side of the tent. She’d always been good under pressure, but as the seconds passed, she felt a sort of panic building in her throat. This place was too crowded for one person to search. Wondering if Avery had made it to the tent, Colly was reaching for her phone when she heard a shrill whistle and spotted her partner shouldering towards her through the crowd.

They compared notes. Avery had encountered Logan at the Ferris wheel, but had seen no trace of their suspect.

Colly plucked absently at her clammy shirt. “We’ve been all over this place. What are we missing?”

“We haven’t tried the first-aid trailer or the toilets. They’re both out that way.” Avery nodded towards the north door.

“Good thinking. You check those. I’ll keep looking in here. Call if you find something.”

Avery brushed a tendril of damp purple hair out of her eyes and hurried off. Colly pushed forward once again. By the time she reached the holding pit, she felt dizzy with the heat. She shoved her way towards the bleachers against the wall, where the crowd was thinner, hoping to catch her breath. She found herself near the “Staff Only” entrance to the ad-hoc research room that Russ had shown her on Thursday. Pete, Felix’s nephew, was standing, arms crossed, in front of it, wearing the same boots and greasy straw Stetson he’d worn two days earlier. He nodded impassively as she approached.

“Guarding the research equipment?” Colly asked.

Pete lifted his hat and mopped the back of his neck with a bandana. “Ain’t no equipment now—them Aggies went home. But we can’t have kids messing around back there. Got more snakes than usual this year ’cause of the early hot spell. Research pen’s holding the surplus till we need ’em.”

“Have you seen any of my family?”

Pete nodded. He’d seen all of them at various times within the last hour, he said. “Matter of fact, some of them are back there now.” He jerked his head towards the opening behind him. “They wanted to see it.”

“Who?”

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