Sleeping in the front seat of her car, Alex Burnet opened her eyes and saw that she was surrounded by men. Three of them were peering into her car. They wore cowboy hats and carried big pronged sticks with loops on them. She sat up abruptly. One of them waved for her to be still.

“Jes’ a moment, miss.”

Alex looked over at her son, Jamie, sleeping peacefully in the seat beside her. He didn’t awaken. Nothing woke Jamie.

When she looked back outside, she gasped. One of the cowboys raised his stick. A gigantic rattlesnake, easily five feet long and as thick as a forearm, was wriggling on the end of it, making a sizzling sound with its rattle.

“You can come out now, if you want.” He swung the snake away.

She opened the door cautiously.

“It’s the heat of your engine,” one of them said. “Draws ’em under the car in the mornings.”

She saw that there were six men altogether. They each had sticks, and carried large sacks with squirming contents. “What’re you doing?”

“We’re collecting rattlers.”

“Why?” she said.

“For the Rattlesnake Roundup next week. In Yuma.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Do it every year. It’s a contest. Who brings the most snakes.”

“I see.”

“It’s by weight, so you want the big ’uns. Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Thank you.”

The group of men was moving off. The man talking to her lagged behind. “Ma’am, you oughtn’t to be out here alone,” he said. “Though I see you got yourself a weapon.” He nodded to the backseat of the car.

“Yes,” she said, “but I don’t have any ammo.”

“Well, that won’t do you,” the man said. He started toward his car, parked across the road. “Is that a twelve-gauge you got?”

“Yes, it is.”

“These’ll serve.” He gave her a handful of red shells. She stuffed them into her pockets.

“Thanks. What do I owe you?”

He shook his head. “You just take care, ma’am.” He turned to rejoin the others. “A black Hummer came up this road about an hour ago. Big guy with a beard, said he was looking for a woman and her little boy. Said he was their uncle and they were missing.”

“Uh-huh. What’d you tell him?”

“We hadn’t seen you yet. So we said no.”

“Which way did he go?” she said.

“Toward Elsinore. But I figure anytime now he’ll be heading back.”

“Thanks,” she said.

He waved. “Don’t stop for gas,” he said. “And good luck.”

Accused Bio-Terrorist Released Today

(CBS 5) Suspected terrorist Mark Sanger was released from Alameda County Jail today on two years’ probation for possession of dangerous biological materials. Informed sources say the technical complexity of the government’s charges against Sanger led the prosecutors to reluctantly conclude that they might not be able to put the suspect behind bars. In particular, the charge against Sanger that he had genetically modified turtles in Central America has now been thrown into question. We spoke with Julio Manarez in Costa Rica.

(Manarez) It is true that the Atlantic turtles have suffered from genetic modification that produces a purple color in their shells. As yet there is no explanation for how this happened. But the age of the turtles indicates that genetic manipulation occurred five to ten years ago.

(CBS 5) Shortly after his arrest, investigators determined that Sanger had not been in Costa Rica early enough to have carried out the genetic change. He was only there last year. And so Mark Sanger, suspected terrorist, is now free on a five-hundred-dollar fine.