Through the leaves of the hedge, he watched a girl come running out of the house straight toward him. The madman crouched low beneath the bushes and watched her sprint past. His hump quivered as Cynthia’s nostrils picked up the delicious aroma of the girl’s flesh. Breakfast, the snake murmured. The girl was just about the size of a suckling pig, which is considered a delicacy among pythons. Stenchley silently followed the girl down the path, keeping his distance, but not losing sight of her. He trailed her out of the maze and saw that she was heading for the garden wall. She grabbed a vine and began climbing up, completely unaware that her death was moments away. Stenchley closed in, his mouth watering. Cynthia coiled tightly inside the killer’s hump, anticipating the feast. Strike now. Get her! the snake hissed. But Stenchley stopped, suddenly distracted. He found himself standing amid the crumbling tombstones of the Hibble family cemetery. One stone in particular had caught his eye.
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