“I’ll tell you.” His lips were turning blue.
“Good.” I pinched the scalpel hard between my fingers. He didn’t flinch as I sliced an inch in the soft spot behind his ear and before his skull bone. Blood bubbled into the fresh cuts made on either side of his chest. “I’m going to need your help for this part. You’re going to have to focus.” He moaned his agreement. “You’ll have to undress. And then I’ll need you in that tub.” I pointed. Adam’s head lolled to the side. I used the full force of my weight to roll the gurney as close to the dirt-coated tub as I could. “Okay, Adam. Now, before you’re not able to.” There was urgency in my voice. I worried he’d lose consciousness at any moment.
I supported him as he struggled to sit up, and then together we swung his feet off the edge and deposited him straight into the empty tub. He peeled off his jersey first, and I caught myself staring not at the tree-branch scars but at the swell of his muscles underneath. When he unfastened the button of his jeans, I whirled around. Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Sorry,” I mumbled. This had been so much less awkward when he was dead.
Behind me, I heard squeaks and squawks of skin on porcelain, and once they’d stopped, I announced myself before turning around, feeling more embarrassed than I should have been at the thought of the human anatomy. I was careful where my gaze landed as I reached over to turn the handles on the faucet. The spigot choked, sputtered, and then retched a gush of grimy water. The sound thundered against the sides of the bath.
Adam’s eyelids finally closed and didn’t reopen. I was reliving the night of the accident. To assure myself that not everything was the same, I put my finger below his nose and felt the soft puff of air against my skin. He was alive, if only barely.
I wheeled the kilowatt meter over and gathered a jar of brine water, working up a sweat as I culled together all the necessary supplies. Since I wouldn’t be reanimating a corpse, I reasoned that the power I’d need would be significantly less.
I inserted the wires into the open cuts and applied a short piece of tape to hold each in place. I set the power gauge and, as a final, lucky thought, I pulled ratty old towels and a short stepping stool. I positioned my feet on top of the stool and wrapped the towels around them to stave off the shock. There was no time left to think. Adam was slipping. I had no choice but to flip the dial.
As soon as I did, Adam jerked like a cat dunked in water. The sight paralyzed me. His eyes rolled into his head until all I could see were the whites. He looked possessed. Tremors shot through his body. The water churned. I wanted to hold him but forced my arms to stay pinned to my sides. His jaw clenched and unclenched. Chin stretched up, straining for something. Pain deepened the lines of his face, turning the laugh lines around his mouth into sunken grooves.
I closed my eyes, but I could still hear the enamel clacking together as his teeth chattered uncontrollably in his jaw. This couldn’t be right. The hair on his arms stood on end, dimpling the skin underneath with welted goose bumps. Sparks flew. The acrid scent of burning meat.
He let out a strangled grunt and his head whipped back. Throat exposed. His hands twisted into claws. He moaned again. Deep, guttural groaning. I watched as his shoulders convulsed. A grotesque exorcism jolted through muscle and sinewy tissue, racking his body.
“Four!” he screamed.
Startled, I reached for the switch, heart pounding. The soft hum of electricity faded. It left him in waves. Another one shook him every second or so like the aftershock from an earthquake.
Shallow pants came from both of us. Gradually, the last twitch left his fingers. I got down from my perch. “Adam? Adam, are you all right?”
His chest rose and fell. His fists squeezed into balls.
I tilted my head to read him, but shadows disguised all his features, warping them into something frightening and indecipherable. Four, I repeated silently. What had he meant by that?
“Adam?” My voice grew softer. Slowly, I reached out my hand, realizing as I did so that it was shaking. With one finger, I prodded him in the ribs beneath the milky water.
His head snapped up. Our eyes met, but in that moment, I wasn’t sure he really saw me. His eyes held a glint of hard metal. His top lip quivered over a row of exposed teeth, and a tendon in his jaw pulsated.
I jerked away, finger still outstretched.
“S-s-sorry,” I stuttered. “I—”
But before I could finish my thought, his eyelashes fluttered and he tossed his chin quickly. He looked at me as if seeing me there for the first time.
He stretched out his fingers. Examined his hands backward and forward. He rolled his shoulders. He stood up. Bent his knees.