“Pull the tail!” I shouted to Michael. He grabbed the end of the snake and hauled backward with everything he had. The python’s head whipped around, snapping at me, missing my leg by inches.
The distraction worked. The snake, realizing it was fighting three enemies instead of one, decided the meal wasn’t worth the risk. The coils loosened. In a flash of motion, the python unraveled itself and shot into the thick bush. The speed of its retreat was as frightening as its attack.
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But there was no celebration. The lioness lay perfectly still in the dust, her sides not moving. The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating.
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