The new day had barely dawned when she slid out of the bed and dream-shifted back to human shape. She did not take the time for hair rinse or makeup, she did not plan to need it. Dressing simply in a jumpsuit and boots, she got in the car and drove up into the Poconos, following the same route her abductors had taken many days before. It was still early morning when she spotted the place where she had jumped from their car.

Some miles farther on she passed a gated drive on the left side of the road, and knew it was the one that led into the drug-lord's compound. Not far beyond it she found a place to pull off the road to the same side, onto a nearly invisible dirt track. She drove down this track far enough that the car would be hidden from view, then left it there and made her way into the woods on foot, walking back toward the compound. When she got close enough to see its walls, she retreated a short distance into the brush, making sure she was well hidden. Then she stripped off her jumpsuit and once again became the snake.

In snake form she easily made her way through brush and tall grass, occasionally lifting her head high enough to scan for signs of activity. As she had expected, there was not much going on this early in the day. In this fashion she worked her way up to a low, rough stone wall fencing the compound. Raising her head to look over the wall, she saw a wide side yard, with a gravel drive leading around back to a couple of small outbuildings, probably gardening sheds. A big stretch limousine was parked on the drive near the front. Using the stone wall for cover, she followed it around behind the back of the compound.

Beyond the sheds, up against the back stretch of wall, was a long low hen house in an area of yard fenced with chicken wire. The yard was empty and the hens were quiet, only occasional soft clucks proving they were there. That and the smell. Her flicking tongue told her more about the occupants than her eyes and ears. But she didn't find the heavy ammonia odor as overpowering as she would have in human form. It smelled like breakfast.

It occurred to her that out-buildings such as this were often used to hide drug stashes, the hope being that the obvious purpose and the smell would deflect curiosity. Motivated by this thought, she slid over the wall and up the short ramp to the hen door on the end of the coop. Slipping inside, she raised her head and examined the chickens one by one. It was dark, and she moved very slowly; the chickens seemed undisturbed by her presence, almost unaware of her.

The floor she crawled along was just a few long planks, not extending to the area under the nests. There was no place for a drug stash to be hidden in here. She was about to turn and leave when she heard voices outside.

"Phew, how do you stand it, Mario? It stinks worse than ever."

"Get used to it Turk. Maybe I'll let you clean it. But there's usually a breeze this time of the morning."

"Come on, Turk, chickens are cool. We had them on my pa's farm."

"I got no use for farms, Porky. Here, you take the basket. You don't need me in there."

"Don't be a pansy. You hold the basket so me and Mario can get the eggs and be done quicker."

"How much longer we have to do scullery for you anyway, Mario? Miguel said nothin' about collecting eggs."

"He's particular about his eggs, like everything. Gotta be fresh. Can't get 'em fresher than this."

Dema's snake-instinct told her not to move and she went very still, her length stretched up under the lower row of nest boxes. The door in the center of the long side was pulled open and the three men walked in. The hens roused only a little as Porky and Mario walked toward the ends, gathering eggs and depositing them in Turk's basket. Dema still didn't move.

Then Mario, turning to pass more eggs to Turk, bumped her with his foot. He looked down and said, "Hey, what's this on the floor?"

Porky looked down too and said, "Looks like a big tree limb. What's it doin' in here?"

Turk, standing with his back to the door where a little more daylight came in, said very quietly, "Guys, I think it's a snake."

Porky squatted down and took a closer look. "You're right, Turk. Damn big one. Hey! Where you goin'?"

"I'm outta here!"

"Come back and put down that basket. We're gonna grab it!"

"Are you crazy? This thing is huge!"

"Come on, Turk, don't be a chicken-shit! We can handle this. Guys do it all the time in Florida. Catch big pythons down there. Seen it on You Tube."

"Porky's right, Turk. Can't let this thing go. It'll eat all the eggs, and all the chickens too if we leave it loose. We gotta grab it. Then I go get my big cleaver and cut off its head."

Reluctantly Turk set down the basket, then turned and squatted with the others. Dema hadn't moved. "What do you want me to do?"

"When I say go, you grab the middle, and me and Mario grab the ends. Then it can't coil up on us. Ready? Go!"

They grabbed her and picked her up. They were clumsy about it, but Dema didn't resist, other than letting her length sag between them, drawing them closer together.

"Ha-ha! We got it! Now you come hold the end while I go get my cleaver."

As soon as the two men began to move, getting ready to change places, Dema went into action. She instantly curled toward the middle of the narrow isle, wrapping her coils around all three of them, drawing them together back to back. The hens went wild, squawking and flying toward the hen doors in the ends, and out the big door too.

The men didn't know what was happening, busier fending off the hens flying around their heads than dealing with Dema's coils. By the time they realized what she was doing, her coils were so high up around their chests that they couldn't lower their arms, and she was squeezing the breath out of them. Their few feeble cries were completely masked by the still raucous squawking of the chickens. With reptilian patience she waited for them to pass out. It didn't take long, only a few minutes. Turk clung to consciousness the longest, but in another minute he was gone too.

She lowered them all gently to the floor, intrigued by the way their minds had opened to her awareness when they thought they were dying in her coils. She had no pity for Turk or Porky, who had been assigned to scullery duty by Miguel for failing on their mission to bring her to him. But poor Mario, the cook, was innocent of everything except needing to collect eggs for Miguel's breakfast. She swung her head toward the basket Turk had set aside. Miraculously, it was undisturbed. She swallowed several of the eggs one by one, then delicately spit the shells back into the basket.