A Tale of Two Earths

Chapter 10: Myron

The torture of being crushed between two large vehicles had lasted much longer than Myron was hoping. Thankfully the nice mercenary's itchy trigger finger sped the process along with swift simplicity. Myron was convinced that the mercenary had called him a name just before pulling the trigger, but the words were lost as the bullet crushed through his skull.

As expected, visions played through Myron's semi-consciousness like a drive in theater; only this time he was afforded a view of something large and mechanical floating above him. It was in the clouds, yet it was bigger than the clouds as a whole. Myron found it difficult to focus on the details, while trying to crane his neck to look up at it, his eyes opened.

With fresh sunlight flaring across his rods and cones, Myron found himself on a well maintained trail surrounded by deep green forest. He looked up hoping to get another view of whatever was among the clouds, but the sky above was blocked by palms, pines, and banyans. That was another dream, he thought, I'm back.

Myron took a step forward and something slapped against his stomach. Looking down, he saw heavy gray binoculars, hanging by a strap which was tucked between two large mounds.

"Boobs," he said aloud with a sense of wonder and excitement.

Quickly forgetting about the day's trials and tribulations, Myron reached up to examine his new breasts. Gently, he cupped them and a tingle crept up and over his shoulders. Endless possibilities raced through his adolescent mind. How is this happening, he thought? Are these mine? Myron gave them a squeeze and was surprised to find that it did not feel very good. Whose body is this? What happened to my old bodies? Do I have to go to school tomorrow? Where are the others?

All of the questions melted away as he massaged the lumps protruding from his chest. Despite all of the blood and madness, one of his richest dreams had come true. If I have boobs, he thought to himself, then I must have everything else too.

Gunfire cut through the tranquility before Myron was able to investigate further, snapping him back to reality quicker than the tug of a bra-strap. Myron picked a direction, hoping he was close to the others, and took off at a sprint. It didn't take long for his old knees and ankles to buckle under the considerable weight of their new frame. Cramps shot from Myron's new back to his hips. He bent over, bracing his hands on his knees. With old lady lungs that were not at all prepared to supply oxygen to the the bloodstream, the best that Myron's new body could sustain was a brisk walk, which still placed a great deal of strain on the joints. The pendulum-like swing of his breasts begged Myron to stop and explore further, but he needed them to wait. At least until he knew that his friends were alive and safe.

Myron reached the end of the trail which emptied out into two small gravel parking areas, divided by an access road. Footsteps across the parking lot sent him ducking behind a large wooden sign marking the trail head. As he crouched something popped in the lower lumbar region and fresh warm aching tendrils of pain stretched across his back. Myron cursed his new overweight, middle aged body, however his heart rejoiced at the sight of the familiar faces walking towards him.

"Hey guys, over here!" Myron shouted, waving his arms. It was the first time Myron had heard his new voice, he was shocked at its shrillness.

Vlatko and Nestor came to a complete stop as the fifty year old, huffing and puffing, woman flagged them down. With the unsteady grace of a newborn deer, she used the trail head sign to brace herself as she rose to her feet.

"Back off," Vlatko called out. He raised his gun to the woman in the off-brand sneakers and capri shorts. The old bird watcher was hardly a threat, but Vlatko had already been through a lot and was not about to take any chances.

"It's me, Myron, I swear!" the woman replied, hopping up and down as she spoke.

"How do we know for sure?" Nestor asked. He wanted to believe the nice old woman in the parking lot of the county park that they had just crawled into; however, after all of the bizarre things that had taken place today, he too felt that a modicum of reservation was required.

"Keep that gun on her," Nestor advised Vlatko.

"C'mon guys," whined the old woman.

"Don't come any closer," Vlatko ordered.

"Can we not do this again?," Myron asked.

Myron's female form stepped forward and Vlatko and Nestor backed up.

"Prove it," Nestor barked, "or he will shoot." He pointed to Vlatko.

"I will," Vlatko agreed.

Since he felt invincible, Myron decided that being shot was an acceptable outcome, however he really wanted to spend more time in his new body. In order to save his new breasts Myron knew that he would have to do something outlandish in order to prove that he was indeed who he claimed to be.

To Vlatko and Nestor's surprise, the old, bird-watching woman reached up with both hands to firmly cup her large breasts as she began hopping from one foot to the other. As she shifted her weight from side to side the woman lifted the corresponding breast to the beat.

"I think it is him," Vlatko whispered.

"Oh, that is definitely Myron," Nestor replied with a look of disgust across his face. "Let's see how far this goes," Nestor said. He gave Vlatko a wink, and charged.

"Oh crap, don't..." Myron started. He attempted to turn and run, but his body refused to comply. Myron's top-heavy frame dove face first into gravel as his legs gave way.

Rolling back over, Myron was greeted by the laughing faces of Nestor and Vlatko. A red tide of anger swept over him.

They were damn lucky, Myron thought; damn lucky that they had a gun and he didn't, lucky that his new old-lady-body wouldn't allow him to beat their asses, and lucky that the whole situation was pretty funny.

They were in fact quite lucky, because as Nestor and Vlatko laughed and made sexist remarks, Myron saw an armored mercenary emerge from the forest, behind them, on the far side of the lot. Myron could have kept quiet and watched with satisfaction as the mercenary crept up wasted his jerk friends, but instead he decided that revenge would have to be served later. After all, it could be the very same mercenary that finished Myron off.

"Watch out," Myron mimed and pointed out behind Nestor and Vlatko.

Not about to fall for one of Myron's tricks, Nestor shook his head defiantly. "You don't get off that easy," he started, "how did this happen?"

"Seriously you ass," whispered Myron, "the guy with the gun is behind you."

Just as the words left Myron's old mouth, the Mercenary sprang into action.

Realizing this to be a valid threat, Vlatko spun around and pulled the trigger until a click signaled the last of his ammunition.