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Changes By Julie O Edited By Itinerant Chapter 1 "How did I do?" asked sixteen-year-old Scott Helms as he took a long drink of water. "You were perfect," replied Jack Roberts. "I couldn't be prouder of you and the way you stood up to the defense today." "How long was I in there today?" asked Scott. "I sort of lost track of time." "A little over five hours," replied Jack. Scott loosened his tie and let out a long sigh. "Do you think that's it? I mean, do you think they'll call me back?" he asked wearily. "I doubt it, you were rock solid. No matter what the defense team tried to do, you kept to your story. You were very consistent, and the jury seemed to be very receptive. If I was in their shoes, the last thing I would want to do is cross-examine you a second time," replied Jack as he looked over his notes. "You said I was consistent, so does that mean I fully backed up what I said when you had me on the stand?" asked Scott. Jack looked up and nodded. "No need to worry, Scott, you did well," replied Jack. "So what happens now?" asked Scott. "I mean what will they do now?" "There's not much that they can do. If the charges were less severe, and I was the defense, I would propose a deal, but this is one case that I'm not taking a deal. Ricardo Sanchez is going to be convicted and end up with the death penalty. Being these are federal charges, he won't have a long wait until the sentence is carried out," said Jack. "If he was just up on drug and weapons smuggling charges, I would deal with him to get others in jail, but not for what he did to your family. I have the support of the entire US Justice Department on this one. The government will not tolerate an attack on one of their agents." Scott took another sip of water. "I'm glad to hear that there will be justice," said Scott. "Still it doesn't bring them back." "I know. I worked with your father on many cases; he was a good man," said Jack. "So, what happens to me?" asked Scott. "We're working on that," replied Jack. "I don't have to ask if the threats are serious," continued Scott. "We'll do everything possible to protect you Scott," said Jack as he heard a knock on the door. "Speaking of which, your security detail is here." Jack stood up. "Do you need any help?" he asked. "Just with the door," replied Scott. "I still haven't mastered opening the door while in this thing." Jack smiled as he walked over and opened the door. As he did he watched Scott slowly roll towards the doorway in his wheelchair. "I'll see you tomorrow," said Scott. "You know you don't have to be here every day," said Jack. "But I do, I owe it to my family," replied Scott. Chapter 2 Meanwhile, in the interrogation room of the federal prison, Ricardo Sanchez was also discussing the case with his lawyer. He was dressed in a bright orange jumpsuit and both his wrists and ankles were shackled. He was a short muscular man in his forties who prided himself on his personal appearance. "The kid was tough," remarked Logan Gregory, the lead defense attorney. "I tried everything possible to discredit his testimony, but he didn't break." Logan knew it was going to be difficult. The file he had on the kid stated that Scott had an IQ in the top five percent. Additionally, the boy had an incredible memory. "I'm not surprised, in many ways he's like his father; that son-of-a bitch never gave an inch either," said Sanchez. "In some ways, I admire that fucker and his bastard son." "Ricardo, we've know each other for years and I have to honest with you. I don't see anyway we can win this case," admitted Logan. "I know, old friend; I also saw the way the jury was staring at me. I'm dead," grumbled Sanchez. "Maybe we can make a deal," suggested Logan. Sanchez shook his head. "Who would listen? The Feds want my ass dead," he replied. "They want to make an example out of me." Logan nodded. He knew the case was hopeless when he took it. The best he had hoped for was getting Sanchez off on some technicality, but Jack Roberts was too good for that sort of mistake. Anytime a DEA agent was killed it was a tough case, but this one was impossible. Sanchez had personally been involved in the murders. It was bad enough that the agent had been executed, but also his wife and daughter. To top it off Sanchez and his men had been careless and left the son alive. "Do you want me to cross-examine the kid again?" asked Logan. "We might be able to get him to slip up." Sanchez shook his head. He closed his eyes and replayed the events of the night. He had been sure that all of them were dead. Christ, he had personally fired several shots into the kid's body. But by some miracle the kid was alive, and because of this he would be executed. "No, every time the kid opens his mouth, the jury goes more his way," bemoaned Sanchez. "Damn bad luck that he lived. I got sloppy and look what it cost me. Ten years ago, I would have cut off their heads. That's an important lesson -- don't grow soft." "As this is a capital case, I've already started work on our appeal," said Logan. "However, in my legal opinion, a second trial will be a waste of time. As long as the boy is alive, we don't stand a chance." Sanchez stared at his lawyer as the words sunk in. "Any chances at getting to him?" asked Sanchez. He knew it was okay to speak freely, as the room was secure. He also knew that Logan wouldn't betray him. "They have him locked up tight. Agent Helms was very popular, and they're taking this personal," replied Logan. "The men guarding him have been handpicked. The kid does have many medical issues; we might be able to get to him at that way. However we might be able to get to him after the trial, the fact that he's in a wheel chair will make it easier to find." "Okay, well, then we'll go with Plan B. They can't guard him like this forever," replied Sanchez. "Tell my brother to make the arrangements." Logan nodded. Chapter 3 Scott woke up in the middle of the night, screaming. It was the same thing every night, as he replayed that horrible night over again. His body was soaked in sweat from the ordeal. One of the guards heard the noise and knocked on the bedroom door. "Come on in," said Scott. The agent walked inside. "Hey Felix," said Scott as he wiped his brow. Felix Ramirez had worked with Scott's father for years, and he personally volunteered for guard duty. He had once played linebacker for The University of Miami, but his true passion had always been law enforcement. "Same thing?" asked the large Cuban-American man as he handed Scott a towel. Scott nodded. "Every night, I see my family murdered. Do you think that the nightmares will ever go away?" asked Scott. "No idea," replied Felix. "Maybe after they convict that bastard Sanchez you'll get some peace." Scott struggled to sit up in bed. Felix moved over to help, but was dismissed by Scott. "I appreciate the help, but I need to do this myself," replied Scott. "Even though I'll never walk again, I can't let myself become too helpless." One of the bullets fired by Sanchez had severed Scott's spinal cord leaving him paralyzed from the waist down. Scott reached over and grabbed his water bottle and took a long drink. "Can you hand me a new shirt? This one is soaked," asked Scott. Felix nodded and pulled a fresh t-shirt out of the dresser and handed it to Scott. "Thanks," replied the teenager and he changed. "You okay?" asked Felix. "I just wish I could have done something that night," said Scott softly. "There was nothing you could have done. No one thought that Sanchez was such a psycho that he would personally attack an agent and his family. You were lucky to have lived," stated Felix. "The important thing is that you testified. You nailed him." "Thanks, but as I told Jack, it doesn't bring my family back." "Yeah, but you did get justice for your family. That will put them at peace," said Felix. "You really believe that?" asked Scott. Felix nodded. "Everyone has a soul, Scott," he replied. "Even Sanchez?" asked Scott. "Yes, even the evil ones have souls, and his will soon be in hell," replied Felix. Scott smiled slightly. He had always like Felix. In some ways the large man was the closest thing to a brother that he had. "So any ideas about what you're going to do once the trial is over?" asked Felix. "Depends on if the rumors are true," said Scott. "Felix, I know you'll tell me the truth: do you think that there's a contract out on me?" "Yes," replied Felix. "We had proof that, if you testified, there would be a price on your head." "And will it matter once Sanchez is dead? Be honest," asked Scott. "To scum like Sanchez, revenge is everything. He'll make it a family honor thing," he replied. "You'll be in the witness protection program." "Yeah, but what good will that do? I mean, my physical disabilities will make it easy to find me," said Scott. "The only way I'll be safe is if I spend the rest of my life in a place like this, and this isn't living." "Don't give up so easily," said Felix. "I'm not giving up; I'm just being practical," replied Scott. "I may be alive, but my old life is dead." Chapter 4 The trial only lasted two more days, before it was handed to the jury. Even though it was a capital case, most observers expected a quick decision. Less than six hours later, the jury returned, and Sanchez was found guilty on all charges. For the first time since the murder of his family, Scott had a peaceful night's sleep. However, his new found peace was short-lived. Scott knew something was wrong, when Jack Roberts came to visit him that weekend. "From the look on your face, I can tell something bad has happened," said Scott. Jack sat down across from the teen. "We were sent a message today stating that there's a new bounty on your life," said Jack. "New?" asked Scott. "What happened to the old one?" "Apparently Sanchez's cartel are offering ten million dollars to whoever kills you, payable to their dependents if they don't survive. The amount doubles if the hit is completed before Sanchez is executed," said Jack. "The contact is open-ended, meaning that you're going to have this hanging over you for the rest of your life. Sorry to be so blunt, but I know how much you hate people BSing you." "Wow," replied Scott. "I don't know if I should be pissed off, frightened or impressed." "Just so you know, we're taking every precaution with your security," explained Jack as he cracked a slight smile. "Yes, but for how long? Seriously, I mean you can't maintain this sort of protection for years," said Scott. "And it's not like I'm going to be easy to hide." "We're going to do our best," said Jack. "We're not going to be intimidated by some bastard like Sanchez." "Yeah, but what sort of life is that going to be for me? I don't want to spend my whole life here," stated Scott adamantly. "I understand; just trust me, we're working on it," said Jack. Chapter 5 As expected, Sanchez was sentenced to death for his crimes. His lawyer immediately filed appeals, but federal law limited his options. The case was very solid, and there was no way that they were going to let a killer like Sanchez escape justice. Scott stayed under protective custody, as the feds tried to come up with a solution for his safety. For his part, Scott tried to stay busy, but it was difficult. In many ways he felt as if he was in prison. Also, his thoughts kept going back to the way his life had been before Sanchez had destroyed it. Now he felt he had no future. Even though he was only sixteen, he had been in his senior year of high school; Scott was the classic over-achiever and was about to graduate two years early as valedictorian. Additionally, he was looking a full scholarship at Stanford. As he was planning to study medicine, he was nicknamed Doogie Howser by his classmates. Even though he was much younger than the rest of his class, he was extremely well liked and had been voted class president. In all, he had been looking forward to a very bright future. Of course, all that changed that horrible night. Actually, the events that led to that evening started months earlier. Special Agent Tom Helms received a tip that one of the drug cartels had started a new tunnel under the border just east of the Otay Mesa border crossing south of San Diego. Tom had been in charge of the DEA efforts in the San Diego region and had a reputation for making big busts. The agents staked out the area and determined the tunnel would over a mile under the border before coming up under a warehouse. This was nothing new, but the information stated that the tunnel was extremely sophisticated and was designed to run material both ways. Drugs would head into the US and guns and money would flow south. Tom made the decision to wait until the tunnel was completed and to try and nab the first shipments. Great care was taken in working with the Mexican authorities, so that the cartel wouldn't be tipped off. Finally, after months of waiting, Tom's informant told him that the tunnel was completed and the first shipments would start. The raid was successful beyond anyone's dreams. The DEA and the Mexican authorities combined to make one of the largest drug busts in history. In addition to the cocaine and meth, the DEA discovered hundreds of assault rifles and millions of rounds of ammunition. It was obvious that the cartel had been stockpiling material, as they waited for the tunnel to be completed. Additionally, over ten million dollars in cash was also found in the warehouse. It was a major blow to Sanchez's cartel, and Sanchez was determined to send a message back to the authorities. Within days after the raid, over a dozen Mexican agents were executed, but that wasn't enough for Sanchez. Against the arguments of his brothers, he decided to strike down Tom Helms personally. He crossed the border with five hit men. Dressed all in black, Sanchez's men stormed into the home of Tom Helms. Right from the start, things went wrong. Tom Helms shot and killed two of Sanchez's men and was about to shoot Sanchez, when he was gunned down. Sanchez was furious, as he wanted to execute the agent himself. He tore off his mask and screamed out in rage. He then decided to take out his rage on Tom Helms's family. If there had been time, he would had violated the women, but the sound of the gunfire was sure to bring the police, so Sanchez grabbed the MP5 submachine gun and shot Scott and his family. Sanchez then put a fresh clip in the gun and emptied it into the body of Tom Helms. His men had to drag him away, as the sound of sirens filled the air. When the police arrived, they were shocked and sickened by what they saw. At first they couldn't imagine anyone could have survived, but one of the officers detected a weak pulse on Scott's neck. It was touch and go, as the surgeons struggled to save Scott's life. The lead surgeon later credited Scott's survival on the fact that two Army surgeons were visiting the hospital. They were there to teach the ER staff techniques that they had learned in Iraq and Afghanistan. When Scott awoke, he told the authorities what had happened. At first they were skeptical, when Scott said it was Sanchez. They found it unlikely that a cartel leader would personally commit such a vicious crime in the United States. However, Scott stuck to his story and even described the brand of cigar that Sanchez lit up before he took the machine gun. A cigar had been found at the scene and the DNA evidence was matched to Sanchez. Knowing it was Sanchez was one thing; getting him was another. However, the DEA got help from an unexpected source: one of Sanchez's competitors. The heat created by the crime was bad for business, and they tipped off the DEA, the next time Sanchez crossed over to the States. Sanchez's family was forced to make concessions, in order to hold onto their decreased slice of the drug smuggling pie. However, to save face, the other cartels approved the hit on Scott. Even though most of them were glad to see Sanchez on death row, it served their interests to try and make the US look bad. If the witness who identified Sanchez was killed, while in protection, it would send a message to others that no one was safe and would keep the peons in their place. Chapter 6 "So that's it?" asked Scott. "That's right, he's run out of appeals and will be executed tomorrow," said Jack. "Lethal injection is too good for him," said Scott in flat unemotional tone. "He should be made to feel pain and to suffer for what he did." "I agree, but it's the law," replied Jack. Scott nodded. "How're you feeling?" asked Jack. "To be honest, I'm numb," replied Scott. "I don't know what will become of me, and to be honest I don't care. I can't go to college; I can't walk; I have no life; and to top it off, I have a huge target on my back." Jack just nodded. In the months following the trial there had been several attempts on Scott's life. The closest that someone got was a nurse at the hospital. She had tried to poison Scott, while he was recovering from one of the many follow up surgeries. She said that she had nothing against Scott, but there was too much money to pass up. "I also don't want to see anyone else get hurt," added Scott. Jack stared back at Scott, not knowing what to say. "When will he be executed?" asked Scott. "Tomorrow night, just before midnight," said Jack. "Will you let me know when he's dead?" "Of course," replied Jack. "Thanks," replied Scott. Chapter 7 Scott stared out the window of his room. He wished it could be opened so he could feel the night air, but that wasn't possible. The window was made of special glass, designed to stop most bullets. He stared out into the night and thought about his family and wondered if they were really at peace. Slowly, he was learning to deal with their murders. The nightmares were becoming less frequent. Scott was also feeling an emptiness, as his life no longer had a purpose. He believed that the only reason why he had had been spared was to bring justice to his murdered family. He no longer cared if he lived or died now, as he had served his goal of seeing that Sanchez get justice. Scott then heard the sound of the bedroom door opening. He turned around and saw a woman standing in the doorway with Felix. "You have a visitor," said Felix. "Mr. Roberts cleared her. I'll send her in when you're ready. Scott looked at his watch and saw that it was almost two in the morning. Slowly he struggled out of bed and then got dressed. Twenty minutes later, the door opened up and a woman walked in. "I know it's late, but we need to talk," said the woman. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties, tall and thin, with short brown hair. She had the dark tan of someone who spent most of the time outside. The woman was dressed in jeans, a cotton blouse and boots. Scott looked over at her and nodded. She was attractive and there was something in her eyes that made him think he could trust her. "Scott, my name is Grace Chamberlain," she said as she walked over and sat down next to Scott. "Hi," said Scott. "I assume you work for the government; no one else would stop by this late if they were a civilian." She smiled softly. "That's right. I work for a special branch of the witness protection program," she said. "We only deal with the most difficult cases." "Okay," said Scott. "No offense, but this could be a big challenge even for you; it's not going to be easy to hide me." Grace smiled again. "That's why I was brought in. We can offer you total protection," she said. "In all the years we've worked for the government, we've never lost anyone." "No offense, but how is that possible?" asked Scott. "I can't go into details here, but you'll have a totally new identity. No one will recognize you," she said. "And what about this?" he asked as he pointed to the wheel chair. "That won't be as big of an issue as you think," she said. "And what about the ten million dollar hit? I've read dozens of articles about it online. People will do stupid things for a lot of money," said Scott. "Soon it won't be an issue," she said. "You have to have faith." Scott dropped his head. "I've given up in believing in things like that," he said. She reached over and gently raised his head by placing her fingers under his chin. "Scott, you were very brave in taking the stand against Sanchez. You brought peace to your family. However, you can do so much more. You have a strong sense of justice in you. How would you like to continue the fight that your father fought?" "How?" he asked as he wiped away a tear. "Trust me. I can offer you a rebirth. I can't tell you anything else, until after you come with me," she said. Scott thought about it for a few moments. What did he have to lose? Chapter 8 An hour later, Scott was sitting on a private jet. Grace was sitting across from him. "So can you tell me where we're going?" he asked. "Wisconsin," she replied. "That's where we run our operations." "I've never been there," he replied. "It's nice; we'll be taking you to our farm." Scott nodded. "Is that where you'll hide me, on a farm in the middle of nowhere?" he asked. "I wouldn't call it the middle of nowhere," she replied with a smile. "We're not that far from Madison." "Sorry, that was rude," he replied. "It's okay," she said. "And the farm is just a stop along the way for you." "Really? So, can you tell more now?" he asked. Grace nodded. "Only a handful of people in the government know of our program. We make people disappear and give them a totally safe, new life," she said. "And you've never been compromised?" he asked. "Never. This is because we're a family-run organization. For example, my brother, James, is flying the jet," she replied. "We take every necessary security step to keep our clients safe." "Is that why did you give me a new chair? And don't tell me it's because of size, this one is bigger than my old one," said Scott. "You're right; we did it for security reasons," she replied. "We don't want to risk someone tracking you." Scott cocked his head. "I was under federal protection for the past year," he said. "Don't you trust them?" "No," replied Grace honestly. "We don't take any chances. We take great pride in the fact that we haven't lost a person." "So are the people you help all like me?" asked Scott. "No, most are criminals who made a deal to save their lives. We get very few innocents, which is why we're so anxious to help you," she replied. "What sort of criminals?" he asked. "You name it, we've had them. But the one thing they all have in common is that they couldn't be put into conventional witness protection, mainly because, like you, they're too well known and easily identifiable." "So what can you do that's different?" he asked. Grace smiled. "You'll see. All I ask is that you have an open mind and trust us," she replied. "Okay," replied Scott. "So what happens to people have you help them?" "It all depends on the person," said Grace. "Can you be vaguer? What do you mean?" asked Scott. Grace rubbed her chin. "I read your file, and I know you were a top student. How well do you know your Greek mythology?" she asked. "Pretty well," replied Scott. "What do you think of them?" she asked. "I liked them. One of my teachers explained how many of the stories had basis in truth, which makes sense," he replied. "Very good," replied Grace. "And have you read The Odyssey?" Scott nodded. "My teacher showed us actually sites in the Mediterranean that could have been the locations in the saga," replied Scott. "And what did you think about this idea?" asked Grace. "It seemed very plausible," he replied. "I mean the stories were passed down orally from one generation to the next. It makes sense that they had basis in fact." He was very curious about what this academic discussion had to do with the witness protection program that Grace was involved with. "And what about the more mystical aspects of the story, how did your teacher explain this?" she asked. "Some of it was exaggerations, and some was based on real life things. For example, mammoth fossils could be seen as the body of a cyclops," he replied. "We saw photos that showed tombs of ancient heroes, and they had fossil bones in them." Grace smiled. "Very good, I've seen that too." "So, I suppose there could be truth behind some of the adventures," he added. "And what about Circe?" she asked. "If you mean the goddess who could change people into animals, I have no idea where that came from. I suppose it was just part of the story designed to make it more exciting," he replied. "What if I told you that it was true, or that there's a process that could explain the legend," she said. "You mean a way to change human into animals?" he asked skeptically. "Animals or to change humans so that they are a new person," she replied. Scott could see that she was serious, and he stifled his urge to laugh. "I don't want to be an animal," he replied. "And I'm not suggesting that you would be. However we have an object that has the power to transform humans into other forms," she replied. Scott stared back in shock. "You're kidding," he stammered. Grace shook her head. "It was discovered on a small island in the Aegean, years ago, by an ancestor of my husband. It has been in the family ever since," she explained. Scott stared back without speaking. "We named it the Circe Stone, after we discovered its powers," she continued. "Is it Greek?" asked Scott as he rubbed his chin. His mind was suddenly flowing with a variety of thoughts. The logical side argued that this was nonsense and at the same time there was a counter argument that this might be possible. There were medical treatments widely in use that had once been dismissed by the mainstream community. The idea that his identity could be changed was amazing. He then wondered if his looks could be changed, could the stone also allow him to walk again. She shook her head. "The language carved in the stone is unknown and appears to be much older than any known civilization from that region," she explained. "We have translated just a small portion of it." "So how does it work?" he asked. Grace smiled back. "That's the tricky part. It seems to have a sense of ... morality it transforms people based on their status," she explained. "What I'm saying is that it can detect the difference between good and evil. For the most part, criminals are transformed into animals, and the innocent stay human." "The innocent?" asked Scott. Grace nodded. "I can't think of a better term," she said. Scott thought about what he had just learned. "And do I have a choice about doing this?" he asked. "Of course, we don't force anyone to do this." "Even the criminals?" he asked. "Yes and they accept this form of protection. They would rather live as an animal than be hunted for the rest of their lives," she replied. "So what sort of animals: pigs?" he asked. "Sometimes, but mainly they turn into cows. Our family also runs an organic dairy, and they are well taken care of," she replied. Scott's jaw dropped. "Don't worry, we've tested the milk; it's real cow milk. There's no sign of human DNA," she replied with a smile. "Makes great cheese too." "And the people willingly accept this?" he asked. "It's a safe and peaceful existence," she explained. "We never butcher the animals, and we treat them as well as possible, probably better than they deserve considering the crimes that many of them committed." "And the humans?" he asked. "We provide them with a new identity to match their new body. Your DNA and fingerprints will be different; it will be as if you were reborn. The main change will be that you could be older or younger by a few years." "And my ethnicity?" he asked. "That sometimes changes too. We have no control over this," she said. "I suppose, if we could translate more of the carvings, we would have better control of the transformations." "Wow," he replied. "Scott, we've only had one person before who was disabled and the transformation corrected it," she continued. "I can't guarantee it, but you may be able to walk again." "Hopefully not on all fours," he joked. Grace took his hands into her own. "Scott, I can promise you that you won't have to worry about that," she said. "Okay," he replied. "And is this permanent?" "Yes," she replied. "But once you have changed, we'll give you a foolproof new identity. You'll be safe," she said. "And you're serious about this?" he asked. "Cross my heart," she replied with a comforting smile on her face. "Now it looks like we're coming in for a landing; we can talk more later." Chapter 9 Upon landing, the jet taxied into a large hanger. They were immediately greeted by a tall, muscular, bearded man wearing a well worn Green Bay Packers cap. He immediately embraced Grace and gave her a passionate kiss. "Scott, this is my husband Mark," announced Grace. "Pleased to meet you," greeted Scott as he extended his hand. "The honor is all mine," replied Mark with a smile as they shook hands. "You were quite brave during the trial." Scott shrugged his shoulders. "I wouldn't call it brave; it was just something I had to do, for my family," replied Scott. Mark nodded. "Still, having a price on one's head causes many people to seek self- preservation," replied Mark. "Well, we can talk more, when we get to the farm. We have a long drive ahead of us." James the pilot walked over and shook Scott's hand. "I'll see you later, but I need to keep going, just in case," he stated. "Just in case of what?" asked Scott. "The slightest possibility that someone tracked us. It's very unlikely, but we like to be careful," replied James as he headed back into the jet. "James will be flying the jet to the listed destination that was on the original flight plan," explained Mark. "Our stop here will not be recorded." "How's that possible?" asked Scott. "I mean, what about the airport staff?" "They work for us. This is a private airport used only for maintenance and storage of corporate jets," replied Mark. "That sounds expensive," said Scott. Mark shook his head. "No, it's actually quite profitable, as it's a real maintenance site. The best covers are the real thing," he explained. "Our flight plan was submitted to the Justice Dept. If it is compromised, it will lead the perpetrators on a wild goose chase," added Grace. "Right now, another jet posing as us is headed towards Denver." "Wow, you really think of everything," replied Scott. Mark directed them to what looked like a delivery truck. "Our ride," he stated. "Don't worry; it's much nicer on the inside." Chapter 10 Two hours later, they arrived at the home of Grace and Mark. They drove down a long private road before reaching the house. It was a large two story log home, surrounded by scattered woods and fields. "I thought you said this was a dairy farm," said Scott as he looked around. "I don't see any cows." "It is. The barns are located over the hill to the right. You never want to have the house close to the cows," said Grace with a wink. "There are several other houses spread out over the property." "And that's where your relatives who run the farm live, right?" asked Scott with a grin. "I knew he was a smart one," said Mark. "My cousins run the farm. James works in our line of work and his family lives to the west of here." "It's a real working dairy farm not just a cover for our work," added Grace. As Scott and the others got out of the van, they were greeted by two large German Shepherds. The dogs ran up and greeted Grace and Mark enthusiastically. They then began to check out Scott. "The one licking your hand is Hans and the other is Gretel," said Grace. "Not Hansel?" asked Scott and he petted the dogs. "No, we had to maintain their dignity," replied Mark with a smile. "They're great watchdogs, and no one can get close to this place without them letting us know. If anyone drives up who isn't family, they start barking their heads off." "There are also two cats, both black, which will make their presence known eventually. The bigger one is Oscar and the smaller one is Fozzie," said Grace. "Are they afraid of the dogs?" asked Scott. Grace shook her head. "No, they rule the roost here. They're just a bit shy around strangers," she replied. "But they'll warm up to you in a day or so." Scott saw there was a wheelchair ramp leading up the front door. He also noticed that it appeared to as old as the house. "Is the ramp okay? I hope it's not too steep," noted Mark. "It's fine," replied Scott. "Can I give you a hand?" asked Mark. Scott shook his head. "No, I'm fine, just lead the way." Mark nodded and together with Grace they headed into the house with the dogs leading the way. "I imagine you're hungry after the flight. I've got a pot of venison chili on the stove," said Mark. "That sounds great," replied Scott as he looked around the house. "This is really nice." "Thanks. My father built it," replied Mark. "Follow me, Scott," said Grace. "We have a room for you on the first floor." "Thanks," he replied. "It was Mark's grandfather's room. He was injured in Vietnam, and he lived here, until he passed away last year," explained Grace. "I'm sorry," replied Scott as he looked at Mark. "Thank you," he replied. "We had planned on redoing the bedroom and bath, but never got around to it. There always seems to be a reason for things happening the way they do." The room was sparse, but clean. "It looks fine," said Scott. "Um, how long until we do the change?" "We'll talk about that during dinner," said Grace. Chapter 11 "How do you like the chili, Scott?" asked Mark. "It's very good. I never had venison chili before," he replied. "No one in my family ever hunted." "It's an old family recipe. My family has lived up here since before Wisconsin was a state. We hunt, and we eat all we kill," explained Mark. Scott nodded. "So can you tell me more about what is going to happen?" asked Scott as he took a bite of cornbread. "If you agree to go through with it, the transformation will happen in two days, when the moon is full," said Mark. "So it has to happen during a full moon?" asked Scott. Grace shook her head. "No, it just happens faster," she explained. "The transformation is painless, and under a full moon only takes an hour." "How does it work?" asked Scott. "You'll place both hands of the stone and then repeat the words we tell you," said Grace. "You'll probably fall asleep and not even notice the change. "That's it?" asked Scott. Grace nodded. "And then I'll be a new person?" he asked as he watched the two cats slink by. "Only physically," said Mark. "You'll still have your mind and memories." "There are subtle changes, but you'll still be yourself," added Grace. "Of course this only applies to the innocents like you, the other ones change completely," stated Mark. "Which is for the best, I suppose," said Grace. "How do you know?" asked Scott. "I mean, they might know who they were." "If so, we've never seen any signs of intelligence," replied Mark. "The ones that become dairy cows are as dumb as the real thing. Don't get me wrong: they are nice animals, but not very smart. The pigs and goats are just as dense." Scott smiled. "And you said that I would keep my memories, right?" asked Scott. "I don't want to forget my family; I would rather die." "The only memories that would be affected are of the transformation. You'll know what happened, but over time it will be like remembering a dream, you won't remember the exact details. In time, other details of the transformation will be more difficult to recall," explained Mark. "So what would happen if I said no?" he asked. "We would deliver you back to the witness protection program," replied Grace. "Aren't you worried that I would tell someone about this?" asked Scott as he ate another spoonful of chili. Grace shook her head. "You would have your memory of all this erased," she explained. "Unlike the actual transformation, you wouldn't remember a thing." "That makes sense," said Scott. "So when did all this get started? I mean, if you're allowed to tell me." "The stone was purchased by an ancestor who was a merchant ship captain. He was an avid reader and loved a good mystery. When he retired, he devoted his life to translating the carvings," said Mark. "He died before the power of the stone was discovered." "Who did it then?" asked Scott. "His son, my great grandfather, who was a college professor," said Mark. "And when was it used for witness protection?" asked Scott. "It started in 1944," said Grace. "It was first used it on members of the Third Reich. These were men who provided information to the US government in exchange for their lives. When the true horrors of the war were discovered, the US government couldn't let them go free and so a compromise was offered; some took it and were transformed and allowed to live." "And the others?" asked Scott. "They went on trial and were either executed or lived the rest of their lives in prison," she explained. "After that it was used for criminals and people caught up in circumstances beyond their control." "I can understand being changed, but remaining human, but who would willingly allow themselves to be turned into a cow or some other animal?" asked Scott. "Many of them fear death and what that might hold for them. They turn state's evidence to make amends and to save their own necks and sometimes their families. When it is clear that the people they testified against won't forgive and forget, they want protection. In some cases, it's impossible to provide it for them due to the nature of the crimes or how famous they are," stated Grace. "Famous? Like who?" asked Scott. "Jimmy Hoffa for one," replied Mark. "Really?" asked Scott. "So he was never buried in the Meadowlands." "Actually, it was someone in our organization that started that rumor," said Grace. "We have worked with the government and faked their deaths or executions," added Mark. "But only if they have given up worthwhile information." Scott got a chill up his spine. "Please tell me that Sanchez isn't one of them?" he asked. Grace shook her head. "No, we wouldn't help a bastard like that," interjected Mark. "Not even if the feds begged us." "Good," replied Scott. "Anything else you want to know?" asked Grace. "Is there any clue on how different I'll look?" he asked. Grace shook her head. "As I told you earlier, you could be younger or older. In most cases you'll be the same ethnicity. Once you have changed, we'll provide you with a completely new identity," she said. "That sounds fine, but I'll still be alone," he stated. "Not true. We will do our best to match you with a family, if you'd like," she added. "Of course, it'll all depend on the transformation." "Of course, thanks for being honest with me. I do appreciate this," he said. "I was pretty much sold on the idea that my life was over." "Scott, it's just beginning," said Grace. Chapter 12 "Are you sure it's okay to have me out in the open?" asked Scott as he looked out the window of the van. "We're on private property, no one knows you're here, and everyone who works here is connected by blood," replied Grace. "I thought you'd want to get out of the house and see our farm." Scott nodded. "Sorry, but since the attack, being paranoid has been bred into me," he replied. "And rightfully so," replied Grace. "Remember, just because you're paranoid it doesn't mean that they're not out to get you." Scott groaned at Grace's joke. "Scott, I'm not downplaying what you've gone through and the hardships you've experienced," she explained. He nodded. "Thanks," he replied. "Do you still have the nightmares?" she asked. "Occasionally, but it's not as bad as it was," he replied. "It used to be every night, but since Sanchez was executed, they only happen once a month or so." "I'm sorry," she said. "Thanks. I've sort of learned to live with them," he replied as he looked out the window. "It's nice here." "We like it," she replied. "So, do you keep all the transformed cows?" he asked. Grace nodded. "Along with the goats and pigs. We wouldn't think of selling them or allowing them to breed, so we're stuck with them. The plus side is that the cows do produce a lot of milk, so do the goats." "And what do you do with the pigs?" asked Scott. "They're good breeders," she replied. "The last one we had produced dozens of piglets." "Wow," exclaimed Scott. "How many a year do you get? I mean criminals, not piglets." "It varies, usually a half dozen or so," she replied. "Depends on how many crooks the feds bust." She pulled up next to a large pasture. There were around twenty cows in the field. "How many out there used to be crooks?" asked Scott. "Only three," replied Grace. "The rest are located in our other herds." Scott looked out at the grazing cows. "I guess it beats prison, or living in fear all the time," said Scott. Mark drove up in an old jeep and parked next to them. He stepped out of the jeep and walked over to the van. "Scott, I have a question for you, do you recognize the man in this photo?" he asked. Scott looked at the photo and nodded. "He was one of the physical therapists. I think his name is Howard, he was a bit of a jerk," replied Scott. "Why do you want to know?" "We found a tracer implanted in your old wheel chair," said Mark. "We flew your chair to another town and the next day this guy showed up. We suspect that Howard Larson planted the tracer in your chair and ran his prints. They turned up on the bug." "Seriously?" asked Scott as he stared at the photo. Mark nodded. "And he was going to kill me?" asked Scott. Mark shook his head as he handed Scott another photo. "This was taken yesterday," said Mark. "Who's the guy who he's talking to?" asked Scott. "We think it's a man called Walter Vargas. He's a hit man, a real professional," said Mark. "You're not sure?" asked Scott. "We know Vargas is a killer, but we only have vague descriptions of him. He's been the main suspect in at least two dozen high profile assassinations in the past ten years. The rumor is that once Vargas takes a case he never gives up," said Mark. "He's totally unemotional about his jobs. From what we know, he only takes jobs based on their challenge." "Shit," cursed Scott. "We suspect that Vargas brought Howard to help ID you," continued Mark. "They're really never going to give up are they?" asked Scott softly. "Don't worry, Scott, they don't have a clue where you really are," said Grace. "In another day, they won't even know what you look like." "So what happens now? Will the Feds arrest them?" asked Scott. "They would if they had any proof. Vargas is a real pro; the feds have been trying to get him for years, as have a dozen other countries. He's too good to leave any evidence," said Mark. "I imagine, if they pick him up, they won't find a thing that links him to you. However, we've doing research to see if anyone, here or in other countries, has info on him." "And Howard?" asked Scott. "As we said, we found his fingerprint on the device," said Mark. "The feds will arrest him, but they don't have anything on Vargas." "Would he give up Vargas?" asked Scott. "Unlikely, but I know they'll ask and see if he's willing to make a deal," said Mark. "Scott, don't worry, we're keeping an eye on him." "Okay", replied Scott."I trust you." Chapter 13 That evening after dinner, Scott sat out on the porch lost in his thoughts. Both cats were sleeping at his feet, with the dogs next to them. He didn't even hear Grace and Mark when they came outside to join him. "Sorry," apologized Scott. "No need to be, Scott. We've seen others go through the same mental process," said Mark as he sat down. "It's normal to feel nervous," added Grace. Fozzie woke up, stretched and then jumped up into Grace's lap. Oscar opened his eyes and then went back to sleep. "I'm not worried about the transformation," said Scott. "I'm just thinking about my parents and sister, and I wonder why I was spared." Mark and Grace just nodded, letting the young man vent his pain and survivor's guilt. "I mean, my Dad was the real hero. He devoted his life to fighting crime. My mom was a high school principal and my sister, well, Kim was totally innocent. She was only ten and was such a cool kid, she never got a chance to grow up," said Scott. "Why did they die, and why did I survive? It doesn't make any sense." "Scott, I wish I knew the answer, but it's beyond me," said Mark. "You can't beat yourself up over the past. I know this might sound over simplified, but try to look to the future and make a difference with you life," added Grace. "I've already made one decision," said Scott. "I originally wanted to go to med school, but now I want to go into law enforcement." "Like your dad?" asked Grace. "Not exactly, I'm thinking more in the line of being a prosecutor," said Scott. "I want to continue the fight." "That's a noble profession," said Grace. "Well you won't have any trouble getting into college. I saw your grades; they're quite impressive," added Mark. "Thanks. I want to make a difference. I'm not going to do it out of revenge, rather to honor my family," said Scott. "I think they would be proud," said Grace. "Thanks," he replied. "So, are we on for tomorrow?" Grace nodded. "Good," replied Scott. Chapter 14 The next morning Mark drove into town. Along the way he used his encrypted phone to check in with the authorities. The news he got was very unsettling. Howard Larson had been found dead in a Madison Holiday Inn of an apparent heart attack. However, it was suspected that he had been murdered by Vargas as Howard had just had a full physical the previous year and had shown no signs of heart disease. There was also no sign of Vargas. Mark was also told that a government computer system had been hacked and it was possible that the flight information had been compromised. "So, there's a chance that Vargas may show up in town," stated Mark's contact. "We know he treats cases like this as a hunter would when tracking their prey. The good thing is that he works alone; I doubt anyone else trusts him." "If he were to disappear, would any questions be raised?" asked Mark. "None." "Very well. Call me, if you get any additional information," said Mark. Chapter 15 Mark immediately updated Grace and Scott about Larson and Vargas. "I have put security on notice," said Mark. "If Vargas shows up near here, then we'll know what he's here for and we'll stop him." "And what will you do to him?" asked Scott. "That depends on what he does," said Mark. "Don't worry, Scott, we won't let him get you." Scott nodded. "I'm more nervous about tonight," he replied. "Any questions?" asked Grace. "No, you pretty much explained the process," replied Scott. "I just wonder what I'll look like tomorrow at this time. I mean, will I be younger or older? Will I be the same race? It's all slightly overwhelming." "We'll get you through it," said Grace. "I know you will. I've only know you two for a short time, but you're the closest thing I have to family right now." Chapter 16 "Where's Scott?" asked Mark as he walked through the kitchen. "In his room asleep, why?" asked Grace. She watched as Mark pressed the hidden switch on the wall in the hallway that led to the dining room. He reached inside the compartment and pulled out two high-powered semi-automatic handguns. He returned to the kitchen and handed Grace on of the guns. "Vargas?" she asked. "He was spotted in town. He went directly to the hospital and questioned them if they had seen Scott," said Mark. "Really? That takes guts," said Grace and she checked the handgun. "He then went to the police and reported that he was looking for a runaway," continued Mark. "Uncle Matt did his usual excellent job and didn't give up a thing." "So what now?" asked Grace. "It's obviously that he got just enough info from the hacking to get this close. We'll grab him and see what he knows," said Mark. "And then?" asked Grace. "It depends on if Vargas cooperates," replied Mark as he slipped the gun in his belt under his shirt. "And if he doesn't?" asked Grace. "We'll let the stone decide," replied Mark. Grace frowned. "Don't get me wrong, I hate people like Vargas with a passion, but he is entitled to a trial," she said. "And the stone will provide it," replied Mark."I've already have approval by the 'big man'." She nodded. "Okay, when will they get him?" she asked. Mark looked at his watch. "We'll know shortly," he replied. Chapter 17 Scott listened intently, as Mark told him how Vargas had shown up nearby and was now in custody. "What does he know?" asked Scott. "He won't talk," replied Mark. "However, he was sloppy and we found some evidence on him." "What was it?" he asked. "He had a unencrypted flash drive with photos of you, along with dozens of fake IDs, and a cell phone number for someone in Mexico; all together, it's enough to let us know that we have the right person," replied Mark. "Does this mean that your operation will be shut down?" asked Scott. "No, although we're going into damage control," said Mark. "And what will you do with him?" asked Scott. Mark took a deep breath and let it out. "The stone will decide his fate," said Mark. "While I'm sure that the authorities would love to interrogate him, and learn some of his secrets, I also bet that they also won't be sad to see him just go away. A man like Vargas has too many secrets, and I'm sure that many of them are embarrassing. He's also supposed to be an accomplished liar, so anything he tells us would be suspect." Scott frowned. "It doesn't seem right," said Scott. "I mean, I still support our legal system." "So do I, but we need to protect our operation," replied Mark. "Unfortunately, this job has an ugly side." "Okay," he replied. "Well, we better get ready for dinner," said Mark. "Grace is roasting a chicken." "Is it okay to do the change on a full stomach?" asked Scott with a smile. "It can't hurt," he replied with a smile. Chapter 18 After dinner, Grace and Scott sat out on the porch and enjoyed the summer evening. The dogs were romping in the yard. The cats were cuddled together on an empty chair fast asleep. "Everything is ready, all we have to do is wait for moonrise," she said. "That will be in around two hours." Scott nodded. "So how did you get involved in all this?" he asked. "I was working for the Justice Department, when I met Mark; I was a field agent back then," she stated. "We just hit it off from the first moment we saw each other. We got married two months later." "Wow. And what about the whole Circe stone?" "He told me about it, before we got married. I didn't believe him at first, but then I saw it work," she replied. "We then brought in other members of my family." "And how do you feel about it -- I mean the helping of bad people?" he asked. "Mixed feelings about it," she replied. "In most cases, the other reason they have agreed to help is to protect themselves. However, the stone does prevent them from going back to a life of crime. I saw a few do that, in the normal witness protection program. I guess that's why I'm so looking forward to helping you." "Thanks," he replied. "I still feel a bit guilty, I mean, I'm going to get a fresh start, and well, my family is gone." "Scott, take this second chance and live your life well. Live a long and good life and it will honor your family's legacy," she stated. "Okay," he replied. "So, how soon after the change will I start my new life?" "Depends on the transformation, if you're underage we'll have to find you a new family, and of course there's the whole adjustment period," she explained. "You'll have to learn your new identity as if you were born with it. Don't worry; it's easier than it sounds, especially for someone as intelligent as you." "I'll take your word on that," he replied with a smile. Chapter 19 Meanwhile, on the other side of the farm, Mark and James were questioning Vargas. "You must think I'm really dangerous," said Vargas as he pulled up on the cuffs that tied him down to the wheelchair. Both wrists and ankles were firmly secured. "Nice chair, where did you get it?" "None of your business, and yes, your reputation precedes you," replied Mark. Vargas grinned. "I have no idea what you're talking about," sneered Vargas. "You have nothing on me; if you did I would be in a real facility, not a room off of an old cow barn." "You're right, you're not under arrest, so let's talk freely, off the record," continued Mark. "Totally off the record? This is something new," said Vargas. "We know what you're doing. You're hunting Scott Helms for the ten million bounty put on his head by the late Ricardo Sanchez," said Mark. "Fifteen million, the price went up," added Vargas. "Or so I have heard." "Walk away from this one," said Mark. Vargas laughed. "That's it, just walk away? You can't be serious!" exclaimed Vargas. "Deep down, I'm a businessman and this is too good to pass up." "You have no connection to the case," interjected Mark. "True, but the money, and the challenge of this one, are too good to pass up. This will be my last job, off the record of course," he replied. "Besides, if I walk away from this one, who would hire me? I have my reputation to uphold." "I don't give a shit about your reputation. What's the challenge in killing a sixteen-year-old kid who's confined to a wheelchair? That seems rather cheap for a professional." "It's not the kill; it's the degree of difficulty. The fact that the feds are making such an effort to hide the kid makes it interesting. There's also all the publicity about this case. You must have seen the videos online discussing this hit. It hasn't been easy to track him, but the fact that you have me is a sign that I'm on the right trail." "The kid has been through enough; he's innocent," said Mark. "No one is truly innocent," countered Vargas. Mark rolled his eyes. "You can't really believe that," argued Mark. Vargas laughed. "You're right, I don't. But I also don't care if he's innocent. I stopped caring about the morality of this job years ago. I kill because of the money; I kill because the thrill of the hunt and the challenge of the kill -- that's it. There's nothing you can say or do to convince me otherwise," stated Vargas. "I know the kid was around here. When you let me go, and you will let me go, I will pick up his trail and I will finish the job. I have time and experience on my side, and eventually someone on your side will screw up and I'll get him; no one is untouchable. Besides, wouldn't you rather have the kid killed by a professional and not some rank amateur? The cartel will keep raising the bounty until he's dead. It's become a pride thing to them, part of their machismo image; they can't let a kid get away from them." "So that's your final answer?" asked Mark. Vargas nodded. "That's correct. You might as well let me go, as you have nothing to hold me on," replied Vargas. "I know that you may want to kill me, but you're hindered by the fact that you work within the restrictions of the law. That's what I love about working in this country." Mark slowly shook his head. "What? You can't just keep me here indefinitely? This isn't Gitmo, you know," replied Vargas, a slight tone of nervousness in his voice. "No, but you may wish you were being sent there," said James as he looked down at his smart phone. "We just got a hit. You're a very popular man Vargas. We only put out the word that we had you an hour ago and already we have a reply." Mark walked over and looked at the phone. "They're sending us the document via secure fax," added James. "Please! I can't believe you'd try something as lame as this," interjected Vargas. "You're trying to scare me with a fake document." Mark took the phone from James and pressed it in front of Vargas's face. Vargas read what was presented in front of him as he did the color washed away from his face. "You ... you wouldn't dare," stammered Vargas. "In a heartbeat," snapped Mark. "I can fly you there in less than ten hours," added James. "I doubt they'll feel restricted by any laws. The cartels aren't the only ones to hold grudges down there. Did you really kill the brother of the President?" "There wouldn't even be a trial, and you know that," shouted Vargas. "Just like the people you have killed," countered Mark. "You'd be dead before we took off, unless they wanted to torture you first." Vargas glared back at Mark. "Any chance of making a deal?" asked Vargas. "I know things." "I wouldn't trust you if you said the sun rises in the east," said James. "Ask your boss!" demanded Vargas. "We have," replied Mark coldly. "So my word that I would leave my current target alone isn't good?" asked Vargas. Mark shook his head. "I don't trust you. You kill for sport, and if you were freed, you would come back; the challenge in killing Scott is too great for you to resist," said Mark. Vargas nodded slowly. "You can't hold me," said Vargas. "The press will find out I'm here. They'll find out if you send me down there, they always do." "You do your job too well Vargas, no one knows you're here," said James. "There has to be an option, otherwise you would be putting me on a jet," said Vargas softly. "True, but what if we offered you an alternative to prison or extradition?" asked Mark. "Shoot," said Vargas as he looked up and smiled. "Don't tempt me," replied Mark. Chapter 20 Grace led Scott into the room where the Circe stone was kept. The light from the full moon was coming through a skylight and illuminating the four foot high gray oval shaped rock. "So, that's it?" he asked "I know, it doesn't look like much," she replied. "What do I do?" he asked. "It's not required, but I recommend that you undress, just in case you're new body is larger," stated Grace. "Okay," replied Scott. "I can give you a robe, if you're bashful," said Grace. "Thanks," he replied. "Um, where's Mark?" "He's been detained and will be here later. Don't worry, I know what I'm doing," said Grace. Ten minutes later Scott was wearing the robe and had positioned his chair so he could touch the stone. "I will read you the words one line at a time," said Grace. "Take your time, and repeat them as clearly as possible." "Okay," he replied. "There will be five lines for you to say, and after the last one you may feel very sleepy; don't worry that's normal," she said. "That wasn't the first line, right?" asked Scott with a nervous laugh. Grace smiled back. "Okay, put both hands on the stone," she ordered. "It's cold," he replied. She nodded. "Now repeat after me," she stated as she began to speak the lines. Chapter 21 "What the fuck is this place?" asked Vargas as he was wheeled into the room with the Circe stone. It had been an hour since Scott had been there. "This is where your fate will be determined," said Mark. "What exactly do you mean by that?" asked Vargas, no longer hiding his fear. "You took our option. The stone will transform you so you cannot hurt anyone ever again, but even we have no control over what that new form will be," said Mark. "The choice is a long flight to a quick end." "Fuck it! What do I have to do?" demanded Vargas. Mark placed a key in Vargas's hand. He then stepped back and pointed a shotgun at Vargas. James was standing off to the side and was pointing a handgun at the assassin. "After you free yourself, undress and place both hands on the rock. Don't try anything stupid, or you'll be dead," stated Mark. Vargas debated making a dash towards one of the men, but quickly determined the odds were not in his favor. Even though he had killed many people, deep down he was a coward who feared pain and death. He meekly accepted his fate. Chapter 22 Scott awoke to feel the sun on his face, and he slowly opened his eyes. He looked up to see that he was back in the bedroom of the house. The first thought that went through his head was that nothing had happened. He didn't move, as he was afraid to discover that he was still himself. However, curiosity got the better of him and he tried to wiggle his toes; to his astonishment, they moved! He could move his legs! He was so excited that he sat up in bed and let out a whoop of pure joy. He leapt out of bed like a kid on Christmas morning, and it was then he noticed the other changes. He looked down and saw a strange new body. He quickly looked over at the mirror, and his eyes locked onto his reflection. "Holy shit! I'm a girl," he exclaimed. His voice was also that of a teenage girl. Grace immediately came into the room. "What happened?" Scott demanded as he began to get out of bed. "I mean I can see that I'm a girl, but why?" "We're not sure," replied Grace softly. She didn't know what to say, even though she had been up all night thinking about it. "This is the first time we've had a gender change, in humans anyway," she stated, knowing that it wouldn't be enough. Scott slowly stood up and stared at his feminized image in the mirror. He was only wearing a t-shirt, but it hung over him like a nightgown. He saw in the mirror a young woman looking back at him. She was shorter than he had used to be, barely five-eight, with short, reddish brown hair. He cautiously cupped his small sized breasts in his hands. He then looked down to confirm that the changes were complete; he was completely female, a very young female at that. "I look like I'm barely a teenager," he stated. "I would agree; you look like you're twelve or thirteen," commented Grace as she walked closer. "At least I can walk," he said softly. "How do you feel?" she asked. "I really don't know. I should be totally freaking out right now, but I'm too stunned," he replied. Scott stared at the mirror. He realized that even though he was young, he was attractive, and he wasn't sure it that was a good thing. He stared and couldn't see anything that reminded him of his old self. Even his eyes were a different color; they had once been blue and now they were dark brown. "This can't be real," he said. "Maybe I'm just one of those feminine looking guys." He then lifted up the shirt, looked down and confirmed -- again -- that he was completely female. His legs began to feel weak, and he began