The Hercules Project

Chapter 9

Protective Measures

It took me a moment to shake my good mood and realize where their conversation was going.

"You need to start taking some responsibility for Wyatt," Abigail said. "He isn't a test subject, Edison. He's your son."

"That's right." There was anger in his voice. "He is my son, Abigail, and you are my employee. Don't think for a moment you have any right how to tell me how to raise him."

"Raise him!" Her volume went up a notch from a hiss to a harsh whisper. "Since when have you had anything to do with raising Wyatt? Do you feed him? Change him? Bathe him? When was the last time you sat down and talked to him about anything?"

"I did better than that," Dad said. "I gave him back his life."

"What kind of life?" I heard a scraping sound, wood on tile. "Do you even know? You have no idea what this is doing to him, do you?"

"It's made him whole," my father said. "I did what I had to do."

"Liar." The padding of her sneakers on stone told me she was pacing. "You did what you wanted. Don't even try to tell either one of us you did this for him. It was all for you."

I held my breath as silence fell between them. I agreed with every word she said, but I also knew how proud my father was and wondered if she had at last gone too far.

It didn't take long for my fears to be realized.

"Seeing as Wyatt no longer needs a nursemaid or a nanny," Dad said, voice stiff and cold, "your position is officially terminated. Gather your things, Ms. Franks. I want you out of my house by the time I return."

My heart dropped to my shoes, panic ripping through me. He couldn't fire Abigail! She was all I had, the only person in the world who loved me for me, no matter what condition my body was in. It wasn't fair!

Anger had such a powerful hold on me I forgot I still clung to the handrail. As I spun to go downstairs and tell my father in no uncertain terms if Abigail left she was taking me with her, I heard a cracking, tearing sound. Abigail and Dad ran from the kitchen immediately while I stared in shock at my right hand.

The banister top had somehow come off the railings. Not one section. The entire strip for all fourteen steps. I balanced the length of polished wood in my palm but felt nothing. It might as well have been a toothpick, it was so light.

I looked up and into Abigail's eyes, fearing the worst, considering I'd scared her enough for one day, expecting her to run now that my father gave her an out. Instead, her face filled with concern and she rushed up the staircase to my side.

"Are you all right?"

"I think so. I was a little dizzy so I grabbed the bannister."

"I see," she said. "Maybe you could put it back now, Wyatt, do you think?"

I set it on the stairs.

"Good boy," she said.

Dad grinned, both hands in his hair like he'd won the lottery.

"Super strong," he said.

"My hearing is enhanced too."

Dad's smile widened then fell as he processed what I said.

Abigail hugged my arm. "It's okay, Wyatt," she said. "Your dad is right. You don't need me anymore."

I shook my head. "No, he's wrong and so are you. I'll always need you." I shot my father a glare. "And if you want me to co-operate with you at all, you better take it back."

For the first time I had leverage against Dad and he knew it. His face flushed as he stormed up the stairs toward me. Abigail backed out of the way and at first I was hurt she wasn't there for me like always.

Until I got it. I had to do this myself, needed to stand up to him once and for all and she was only making it easier for me.

I faced him down as he came eye-to-eye with me.

"I won't be spoken to like that," he said. "Not by my son in my own home."

"And I won't be treated like a subject anymore," I said at my most calm. "I will go with you, but you have to ask nicely. And apologize to Abigail."

I felt his impatience, knew before he moved what he planned to do. My father had never been physical with me before, ever. But his hand reached out and wrapped around my upper arm and pulled against me as he spoke.

"We're going. Now."

All the fury and frustration rose within me at once as he touched me in anger. It flooded out of me and I reacted without thinking. Pulling away from him took no effort as I planted one hand on his chest and yelled, "No!" And pushed my dad down the stairs.

Time slowed. I watched in horror as he flew away from me through the empty air as though propelled from a rocket, headed for the first floor, the cathedral ceiling suddenly seeming not high enough.

Instinct drove me forward as I launched myself after him. Flying. I was flying, my body tingling like in my dream as I soared up and forward like an arrow, catching him just before he went through the big skylight over the living room.

Time sped up again. I found myself floating near the ceiling, my father clutched to me. His glasses sat askew, wide brown eyes full of fear for the first time.

"Dad," I said, "I'm so sorry. I don't know my own strength anymore."

He nodded and swallowed so hard his Adam's apple jumped. "I know, son. Neither do I."

I lowered us to the floor just by thinking about it, the tingle retreating, unable to enjoy the sensation, too overcome by remorse for attacking my father. And yet, I secretly thrilled at the amazing sensation of flying even as I let him go when he was steady on his own two feet and watched him straighten himself up.

"We need to go to the lab," he said, all serious, talking to me rather than at me. That was more like it. "You understand that now, don't you, Wyatt?"

"Yes, Dad. I get it. But I meant what I said." I looked over at Abigail who had descended the stairs, face pale, shaking hands pressed to her chest. "Either Abigail stays or you can forget about my cooperation." I wasn't about to let him run any more experiments on me without my complete consent.

Dad cleared his throat, in obvious discomfort. He looked up at her, smile sheepish.

"I'm sorry, Abigail," he said.

If she was surprised my father apologized, she had the good grace not to show it.

"So am I, Edison," she said.

I turned to leave with him when I felt her hands on my arm. I hugged her as gently as I could as she embraced me, not knowing how tight I could hold her without hurting her.

"Be safe, Wyatt," she whispered. "Don't let him push you around." She pulled back, blinking tears out of her green eyes, thick lashes heavy with them.

I kissed her forehead like she always used to do for me and grinned at her.

"Don't worry," I said. "I think I can take him."

She waved, looking lost and forlorn all alone in the entry as I waved while opening the door of my father's car.

I didn't realize it was locked until it came off in my hand.

Dad looked first at it, then at me.

"I guess we'll take the van," he said. "Maybe I'll get the door for you next time, okay?"

Abashed, I nodded, hugging myself, excitement gone, suddenly afraid.

Just what was I turning into?

***