48 - 23 - Recovery

Two seconds.

I leaped! There were no steel coils in my joints, but the rat's legs were powerful enough. I was demorphing before my nose even touched the lid of the box.

Boing!

The lid sprang open. I heard David squeak in protest as some part of my partly formed human body - probably a foot - crowded him into a corner.

My legs stretched out. Little claws expanded, extended into toes.

Suddenly - I couldn't breathe! The elongated rat snout retracted into my skull and filled my sinus cavity.

Swoosh!

Yes. Human nose!

A tickling pain at the base of my spine. Then - Pop!

The rat tail reconfigured itself into a human spinal column.

My eyes were changing, vision shifting madly. But I kept a passing image of the clock.

Click!

No!

The counter turned to zero.

I was in midmorph.

Was I going to make it all the way out?

My arms were tiny. Not yet grown. Where fingers should be, there were still little fur-covered paws.

I looked down. My thighs, still curved into huge haunches.

I was a rat girl.

Trapped in midmorph!

I heard David laugh.

<Oh, my God! You're hideous. This is even better than I'd hoped!>

I closed my eyes. I would not let this happen. I refused to let it happen!

I summoned every ounce of morphing energy. Every ounce of mental energy. Every ounce of concentration.

I blotted out every random thought. Tried desperately to dampen every wild emotion.

But there was something in the way. Something stubborn and intractable that would not be ignored.

It was the hate. The anger.

I tried! I tried to push it away!

But the truth was I didn't want it to go away. I wanted my anger. I wanted my hate.

It was the source of my strength.

And then . . . miraculously . . . I stood and spread my arms wide.

I was Rachel.

I was back.