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Page 114
childhood: the visit he'd made with his mother to the reptile house at the Memphis Zoo.
"Shit!" he whispered. "Snakes!"
As a child he had been repelled and yet fascinated by the way the place had smelledhot and rankand at the way the reptiles had slithered over and around each other, their oily black tongues darting in and out of tiny slit mouths. He remembered that the snakes' skins had looked wet and slimy and that their eyes had been black with a depth that had no end.
Then his mother had said, "Oh look, Russ! They're going to feed one." And the keeper had dumped a small gray mouse into the sidewinder's cage.
The mouse had just sat there twitching its whiskers as the snake slithered across the cage. It had been over quickly after that. The snake's strike was faster than an eight-year-old's eyes could follow. The mouse leapt straight up into the air, landed on its side and lay therepantingas the snake slowly swallowed it. The last things Cyrus remembered seeing were the rodent's tiny round eyes. They seemed to be staring right at himpleading.
The bed bounced hard enough to make the springs squeak and Cyrus experienced a grinding explosion of pain in his hands and arms. It was no longer possible for him to ignore the changes that were taking place in his body. He brought his right hand up and was not surprised to see the skin had turned almost black and that fine brown hairs were sprouting on the back. Nor was he much amazed by the claws popping out of the tips of his fingers. Other, more subtle changes were taking place as well. In addition to the night vision and the enhanced sense of smell, his hearing had become so sensitive that he could almost hear the moonbeams as they passed through the windowpanes and crashed into the floor. And even less apparent, but more important, his fear of the unseen creatures was slowly being replaced by a mindless red tide of rage. When his stack of clean clothing in the corner toppled over,

 
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