The Hercules Project

Chapter 7

Unpredictable

Someone was screaming. But, it wasn't the hysterical sound that brought me back, but the soft, insistent purr of Abigail's voice saying my name over and over again. I jerked awake in Mr. Tate's office, head ringing, skin on fire. The high-pitched shriek continued as Abigail crouched next to me, holding my hands on the arms of my chair. I glanced away from her and spotted Mr. Tait and Mrs. Paters staring, wide-eyed and mouths agape. Melody stood between them, her mouth open and trembling as her terrified squeal died away. I stared back at her, confused and lost. What was wrong with her?

"Freak!" She trembled violently, knees practically knocking together, normally flawless face mottled red. I noticed her gum had somehow become stuck in her beautiful curls, head band missing.

"Melody?" The last thing I remembered was her kissing me. I didn't even get to enjoy what it felt like because the blackout happened right at the best part. It wasn't fair!

Rather than say anything else, she took one last look at me, blue eyes filled to the brim with absolute horror, and ran.

I wasn't sure why until I looked around.

The principal's desk was on its side in the corner, one leg snapped off. That leg stuck out like a piece of shrapnel, embedded in the limp and twisted metal filing cabinet hanging from the shattered window behind where the desk had been. Mr. Tait's chair was nowhere in sight. Papers fluttered in the breeze coming through the first story window. It felt wonderful on my burning skin. My whole body clenched, vibrating with tension until I thought I would collapse in on myself. Then, just as quickly, the tension released and I slumped into my chair, weak and shaking.

Abigail hugged me hard. When she leaned back there were tears on her smooth, pink cheeks, so pale her dash of nose freckles stood out like leopard spots.

"Wyatt, are you all right?"

The weakness was gone so fast it felt like I just woke up from someone else's dream. I nodded. I felt great. Stupendous. Invincible. But I didn't tell her that.

"I'm fine." Humiliated beyond repair with the girl of my dreams, but that seemed so minor compared to the changes in my body.

She examined me, my arms, my face. When she looked at my hands, she gasped out loud and clutched her fingers to her mouth. There was so much fear in her eyes, I felt my own come surging back. Sure, it might be cool and all to feel stronger, but I had no idea where this was going, what I was transforming into. I reached for her and pulled her hand down, squeezing her fingers.

"What the hell..." Mr. Tait trailed off. "Wyatt! What just happened?"

I didn't get a chance to answer. Abigail leaped to her feet and faced the stunned principal with a forced smile.

"Wyatt's been undergoing a new treatment," she said, all casual as though this sort of thing happened every day. "The results have been unpredictable."

Mr. Tait shook his head, still dazed. "But... my desk. He threw my desk..."

Mrs. Paters let out a whimper.

Abigail was quick on the uptake, I gave her that much. Hell, she deserved an Oscar for her performance.

"Rushes of adrenaline are common," she said with a gentle smile, one hand falling delicately on Mr. Tait's arm. "I'm so sorry. I know Dr. Simons wouldn't have allowed Wyatt to come to school if he knew the treatments were having this effect on him. I know he'll cover all the damages."

Mr. Tait's eyes drifted to me, but they didn't stay long. He wanted to believe her, I could tell. Abigail had a way about her. And besides, explaining it away made sense to his brain.

"Of course," he said, clearing his throat and straightening up. "Wyatt, I think sending you home is a good idea after all."

I hated he wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Yes, sir," I said. This wasn't turning out the way I hoped at all.

Abigail didn't wait another moment. She stepped behind my chair and wheeled me out before either Mr. Tait or Mrs. Paters could say another word. Not that the secretary looked like she was ready to talk. She just kept making squeaking noises and flinched away from me when Abigail pushed past her.

It was the quickest trip to the van I've ever taken, though thanks to Melody, there was an eager yet frightened crowd assembled to watch me exit the building.

News got around.

As Abigail rushed me out the front doors, I glanced to my left and felt a shock ripple through me.

I found Mr. Tait's chair. It was embedded wheels first into the side of a giant oak tree.

Abigail grunted as she tried to get me into the seat, but I didn't attempt to help her. Better for her to know about my new strength once we were safely behind closed doors. The inside of the van felt stifling after the breeze of outside, my skin still tight and hot. I kept my eyes forward, ignoring the kids who slowly gathered around as if unable to help themselves.

Abigail stuffed my chair into the back and hurried to the driver's door. Air conditioning blasted in my face the moment she turned the key and for a moment I worried about the crowd as she peeled away from the curb even as she struggled with her seat belt.

I knew then how upset she was. Abigail was obsessive about seat belts. I reached over, took the end in my newly strengthened fingers and helped her click hers home. Her eyes fell on my hand again and she shuddered.

"Wyatt," she said very quietly, voice shaking. Her hands shook too as she clutched the steering wheel so tight I could see every vein in the backs of them.

"Yeah?" I said.

"I need you to tell me about this experiment."

"I don't know much," I said. "Just that it's never worked on anyone before."

"I think it's safe to say it's working now," she said in that same soft, trembling voice.

"I guess."

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," I said. "Abigail. Abigail!" As we pulled up to a stop sign, she turned to me. Her eyes widened again.

"Wyatt!" She reached out and touched my face with her fingertips, tears rising in her eyes. "I don't believe it!"

"What?"

She reached up and flipped down my visor, exposing the passenger vanity. "Look."

I did. A stranger looked back at me. A young man with big eyes and a soft mouth reminding me of my mother. I touched my cheeks, the full, dense skin, the rounded lips. Cleft chin and strong jaw. Gone was the sickly boy who could barely lift his arms to help himself. I looked at my hands again and started to laugh.

Someone behind us tooted the horn. Abigail stepped on the gas in reflex, the car lurching forward. She was silent the rest of the drive home but I hardly noticed, flexing and stretching myself the entire time. When we pulled up the driveway, tires screeching as she took the corner hard, Abigail threw herself out of the van before it was even at a full stop. I heard her retrieving my chair, but was so wrapped up in my new body, I didn't react immediately when she jerked open my door and turned the seat so I could slide in.

The chair felt small, like it didn't fit me anymore. My feet ached, my toes visible out the tips as if I'd outgrown my shoes in a heartbeat. Abigail stumbled halfway up the walk, tripping on the loose stone Dad always forgot to fix. She usually avoided it, but must have been so distracted she forgot it was there. Abigail fell, hands still grasping the handles of my chair. I tipped sideways, feeling gravity grab me and pull me down, hovering on one wheel as I windmilled my arms for balance before losing the fight. I ended up on my side in the freshly watered grass, the chair useless beside me.

Abigail burst into tears. I had seen her cry before, at sad movies, the odd tear here and there when she felt sorry for me and the pain I endured. But I had never seen her break down. I reached for her as she reached for me, her arms clutching my neck.

"Wyatt, I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry!"

I stroked her hair and hugged her back. "It's okay, Abigail." I supported her, helping her to her feet. "Honest." Her face fit in the hollow of my shoulder, hair soft against my cheek. It felt nice to offer her strength for once. She clung to me for a moment as her sobs turned to soft hiccups. At last she pulled back and looked up at me.

And gasped.

"Wyatt!" She backed off a step. "You're... you're...!"

I looked down at myself and realized the truth, too.

I stood on my own two feet.

***