Zapped

The lab space Harrison Kinsley arranged was suitable for their needs. Tom was placed inside a secure room with his grandfather and the device. He did find the sequence kind of anticlimactic. Essentially his grandfather aimed the device and activated it while the others watched from beyond the safety of an observation booth.

Tom felt a pulse of energy roll over him, the force of it making him stagger backward several steps. His vision went white and it was as if every molecule in his body was like a deflated balloon being rapidly inflated with helium and expanding outward. The sensation was painful and not, a strange weird feeling, pins and needles like when your foot is asleep except for him it was everywhere. Somewhere in the background he heard his grandfather unleash an expletive before white noise drowned his auditory senses. It was hard to breath. Was he breathing? He couldn’t tell. Warmth spread over him, through him, not unlike one of his sessions with one of the ladies. His stomach rolled and he got the sense he was twisting, vomiting, but there was no taste. He wondered if he was having an out-of-body experience, detached from his flesh. Then there was a flash, like a lightning bolt in his brain and he could feel everything, all of his nerve ending rebooting and coming alive at the same time, searing, white hot. He screamed, a muffled sound inside his head. Again his stomach convulsed and this time he could feel his bowel void.

“No, no, let it run its course,” he heard the distant sounded of his grandfather, muffled and just above the ringing in his ears.

Diaphragm expanding, he felt cool air drawn into his lungs, tainted by the bitter smell of his own feces. Everything was blurry, colors, shapes assailed him as he rolled onto his back. 

“My baby boy,” came the panic stricken voice of his mother.

“Give him a moment,” reassured his grandfather.

Brain short circuited by the overload of sensory information, Tom passed out.

When Tom awoke, he felt sore, achy. He mentally chuckled. Given his recent adventures, waking up in this condition was not particularly new. There was a metallic tang in his mouth, hard to describe, like ozone or electricity. Cracking his eyes, it was light out, but everything was just out of focus, like he needed eyeglasses to capture crisp detail. He was lying in a bed, blankets over him and drawn up to his chest.

“How do you feel?” It was Cassidy’s voice speaking, still slightly muffled but easier to understand.

Rolling his head toward the sound, he looked in her direction. “Rode hard and put up wet,” he croaked, his voice sounding deep in his own ears. Though still very blurry, he could easily tell she was no longer gigantic, she was normal. He was normal.

“I want you to just relax for a moment, I’m going to check your vitals to make sure everything is okay,” she said, moving and checking his pulse, his breathing, and the pallor of his skin.

His vision seemed to clear, sharpen. He was himself again. If he didn’t feel like he had been run over by tanker truck he might have hooted and hollered for joy. His mother was standing at the foot of the bed, smiling, eyes filled with concern but tempered with relief. Tess was there too, and Janine. Lina was seated in a chair absently looking out the window.

“Kind of feels like you’ve been pulled inside out,” chuckled his grandfather.

Tom moved his head and looked near the door, nodding slowly, “Apt analogy,” he chuckled.

Finished with her check, “From what I can tell, you appear fine but you really should get some rest,” Cassidy urged.

Sliding his arm out from under the blanket he gave her a thumbs up. It was weird to see her this way. She was still gorgeous, but he had only ever seen her when he was small. Same with Lina. Rolling his head the other way, he looked at Janine’s mother and smiled. Whether she caught the movement or was now following the conversation, she was looking at him and nodded, returning his smile.

Closing his eyes, Tom allowed himself to drift, wondering if it all wasn’t some kind of dream.

The next time he awoke, he felt much more refreshed, clear, and starving. His stomach was making all sorts of noises of complaint. It was still light out, or light again because he had no idea how long he had been out.

“Hey good looking,” he said, pulling himself into a seated position on the bed and grinning at her.

Cassidy looked up, “Easy now,” she cautioned, moving over to the bed, checking on the cut over his eye.

“I am famished,” he said, allowing her to fuss.

“Too late for stitches, this will leave a scar,” she mused.

“Chicks dig scars,” he replied. “How long have I been out?”

Cassidy checked her watch, “Three hours or so. How do you feel?”

“Like I could eat a buffalo,” he answered with a grin.

“We’ll start with something a little smaller and easier on your system. Chicken noodle or beef vegetable soup?” she asked.

“Chicken noodle,” he stated.

“No numbness or tingling in any of your extremities? Hands, feet?” she asked, taking his hand in hers.

“No, well a little, I don’t know, just like more, you know, like sensitive,” he replied, running his thumb over the tops of the fingers on his right hand.

“Can you squeeze my hand?” she posed, putting two fingers into his left palm. He did. She repeated the process with his right hand. Her skin felt so smooth to his tactile sense.

 “Everything seems good,” she said, releasing his hand. “I would strongly recommend you get a full physical from a doctor though just to be safe,” she stated.

“Affirmative,” he assured, “Now about some of that soup?” he asked, favoring her with a lopsided grin.