Will of Man - Part Five by William Scanlan Page B

dark spot under the control panel and slowly crouched down beneath it. I was relieved to find no snakes, but now I was in a position that left me vulnerable if any snakes crawled out of the suit from above.
    My lungs began to burn since I forgot to breath. I slowly took little breaths and kept one eye on the pulsating belly of the skeleton. The left ankle sleeve was complete and I moved to the right arm sleeve. As I went to wrap the zip-tie around the arm sleeve, I noticed a rattle hanging slightly out of it. I didn't want to zip-tie the snakes tale and tick it off, so I decided to gently push it up into the sleeve. As I did, it began to rattle slightly. I stopped and waited a minute, then tried again. It rattled again, but moved its way up the sleeve slowly. Realizing my luck was running out, I quickly (but gently), closed up the right arm sleeve.
    That left the left arm sleeve and collar. All was going well, when all of a sudden a loose pine cone fell into the cockpit. It bounced on top of the cockpit, in through the crushed windshield, onto the control panel, and then finally onto the nest of resting rattlesnakes. Instantly, they began to rattle and squirm violently. Having the zip-tie already half way around the arm sleeve, I quickly zipped it tight and moved to the collar. It was do or die now.
    As I panicked to grab the next zip-tie out of my mouth I noticed a snake head exit the collar. I unknowingly spit the zip-ties to the ground as I grabbed the snake by its head.
    With my hand around its thick neck, the poisonous snake opened its mouth and let out a nasty hiss. I noticed another snake trying to escape the collar so I grabbed the collar with my other hand and squeezed it shut.
    Not being able to let go, I hastily decided to abort the final zip-tie and drag the flight suit with its dangerous cargo up and out the window.
    Never letting go of the snake or collar, I stumbled my way to the top of the control panel. As I took my final step to exit, I stumbled and fell. As I fell, I ignored the oncoming impact of the ground and fully focused on keeping the snakes bagged up in the flight suit.
    I hit the floor of the cockpit with a big thud. My head hit hard and I could feel the instant burn from the impact. For a moment I went numb, but never let go of the flight suit.
    After shaking off the hurt, I dragged the squirming, rattling, furious snakes to the outside of the plane. I nearly fell off the front of the plane, but managed to toss my furious friends to the ground beneath. The wolves trampled the skeleton, but quickly jumped back when they realized its cargo. I watched the snakes crawl out of the flight suit and scurry for cover.
    I wondered if they knew of a way back inside the cockpit. I went back to the cockpit and looked for any opening the snakes could find their way through.
    I lit a torch I made before hand and carefully crawled into the cockpit. I looked around for any cracks or openings in and under the control panel. Keeping an eye out for any rouge snakes, I read a label describing how the cockpit is basically airtight when the door is shut.
    After double checking for any openings, I came to the conclusion that the only entrance to the cockpit was through the door. I made sure it was closed tight, and then left for a while. I still didn't trust the confinement of the cockpit and wanted to see if any snakes returned.
    I passed my time making a spear out of a long and sturdy branch and the knife my Dad put in my backpack. I cut a length of rope and duct taped it to the end of my spear. I figured I could throw it at the wolves anytime they neared the plane. My hopes are that the wolves will decide I am more trouble than tasty and will leave for other prey. We'll see.
    The clouds were getting darker and I knew a storm was unavoidable. I needed to decide whether or not to venture in the cockpit and stay the night. If I stay inside, I run the risk of encountering any returning snakes. If I stay outside, I will