of some other creature, creeping downward, following a musky scent with
the sure knowledge that succulent eggs of some kind could be found and
devoured in the gloom below. A pair of glowing amber eyes in the
inkiness was the first indication he had of resistance to his plans. A
warm-blooded furry beast, well armed with teeth and claws, rushed at him
to protect its subterranean nest, and he was suddenly engaged in a
fierce battle that was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating.
Cold, reptilian He pushed the lid up.
He was surprised to see the desert.
He climbed out of the trunk.
Rachael washed her hands at the sink-there was hot water but no soaand
dried them in the blast of the hot-air blower that was provided in lieu
of paper towels.
Outside, as the heavy door closed behind her, she saw that no
rattlesnakes had taken up residence on the walkway. She went only three
steps before she also saw that the trunk of the Mercedes was open wide.
She stopped, frowning. Even if the trunk had not been locked, the lid
could not have slipped its catch spontaneously.
Suddenly she knew, Eric.
Even as his name flashed through her mind, he appeared at the corner of
the building, fifteen feet away from her. He stopped and stared as if
the sight of her riveted him as much as she was frozen by the sight of
him.
It was Eric, yet it was not Eric.
She stared at him, horrified and disbelieving, not immediately able to
comprehend his bizarre metamorphosis, yet sensing that the manipulation
of his genetic structure had somehow resulted in these monstrous
changes. His body appeared deformed, however, because of his clothing,
it was hard to tell precisely what had happened to him. Something was
different about his knee joints and his hips. And he was hunchbacked,
his red plaid shirt was straining at the seams to contain the mound that
had risen from shoulder to shoulder. His arms had grown two or three
inches, which would have been obvious even if his knobby and strangely
jointed wrists had not thrust out beyond his shirt cuffs.
His hands looked fearfully powerful, deformed by human standards, yet
with a suggestion of suppleness and dexterity, they were mottled
yellow-brown-gray, the hugely knuckled and elongated fingers terminated
in claws, in places, his skin seemed to have been supplanted by pebbly
scales.
His strangely altered face was the worst thing about him. Every aspect
of his once-handsome countenance was changed, yet just enough of his
familiar features remained to leave him recognizable. Bones had
re-formed, becoming broader and flatter in some places, narrower and
more rounded in others, heavier over and under his now-sunken eyes and
through his jawline, which was prognathous. A hideous serrated bony
ridge had formed up the center of his lumpish brow
andHJiminishingtrailed across the top of his scalp.
“Rachael,” he said.
His voice was low, vibratory, and hoarse. She thought there was a
mournful, even melancholy, note in it.
On his thickened forehead were twin conical protrusions that appeared to
be half formed, although they seemed destined to be horns the size of
Rachael’s thumb when they were finished growing. Horns would have made
no sense at all to her if the patches of scaly flesh on his hands had
not been matched by patches on his face and by wattles of dark leathery
skin under his jaw and along his neck in the manner of certain reptiles,
a few lizards had horns, and perhaps at some point in mankind’s distant
beginnings, evolution had included an amphibian stage boasting such
protuberances (though that seemed unlikely). Other elements of his
tortured visage were human, while still others were apelike. She dimly
began to perceive that tens of millions of years of genetic heritage had
been unleashed within him, that every stage of evolution was fighting
for control of him at the same time, long-abandoned forms-a multitude of
possibilities-were struggling to reassert themselves as if his tissues
were just so much putty.
“Rachael,” he repeated but still did not move. “I want… I want…”
He could not seem to find the words to finish the thought, or perhaps he