Some Kind of Wonderful- Part Four by: Enemyoffun Charlie Sandsmark and his mother, Helena, travel around the world from one archaeological dig to another, looking for evidence of the ancient Amazonian culture. So far they have found nothing, until Charlie discovers something wonderful about himself on a small island in the Aegean Sea.

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Author's Note: Here's Chapter Four. I apologize if its a little shorter than the others, I'll try to make up for that in chapters yet to come. There's not a lot to this one except a lot of action. But everyone will be happy to know that as of this chapter he won't be able to pass as a Charlie anymore. I'd like to thank DC Comics for their characters and djkauf for the wonderful editing.

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Chapter Four:

He fired. I think my entire short life flashed before my eyes. In that moment I realized that my life leading up to this point was pretty damn worthless. I guess it didn’t pay to be a slacker. I closed my eyes, waiting to feel the sharp pain as the bullets tore into my flesh. Ok, I think it’s a sharp pain but I wouldn’t know because I’ve never been shot before. But the pain never came. What the hell? I opened my eye a peek and was shocked at what I saw. The bullets were hovering in mid-air about five feet away from me. I stumbled back, shocked and surprised. The goons were half way out of the boat now, all of them frozen in place. The guy who fired the gun was standing there, an angry and amused look on his frozen face. What the hell was going on?

“Did you honestly think that I’d let them end your pathetic life so quickly” said a familiar voice from behind me.

I snapped around. Hera was sitting in a beach chair, a peacock acting as a table, a martini was resting on its head. She was dressed in a white bikini, her legs crossed at her ankles. She looked very relaxed lying there, basking in the sun. I paused for a second after giving her a once over. Wait, did I just think of her as Hera. Yes, I did and before I did too. Where did that come from anyway? Never in my life had I ever prayed to Hera before. Usually when a normal person is about to die they pray to God. I shook my head, that was hardly the problem right now. Hera wasn’t supposed to be real; she was supposed to be a myth. I mean I know she appeared in my dream but that was a dream.

She groaned, grabbing her martini and taking a sip. “I told you before, you weren’t dreaming.”

I nodded numbly. She set the martini back on the peacock’s head. The bird didn’t move a muscle; it was like it was frozen in place too.

I finally found my voice. “What is this?”

She smirked. “Destiny.”

“I don’t believe in destiny.”

It was the truth. I didn’t. There was no way that there was some force out there controlling everyone’s actions. It was too bizarre to even comprehend. I guess that’s why I didn’t believe in God much either. I found it hard to believe that there was some All-Powerful supernatural being out there who created the whole of mankind. It was the craziest thing in the world like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. I would have said the same thing about the Greek Gods but here one was, sitting in front of me in a bikini.

“Are you quite done now?” I nodded. “Good because your thoughts are unbecoming of you. If you were any other mortal, I would have struck you down for such things. But you’re important to me and I’ll let it slide for now.”

“Important?” I stuttered those last words.

Then I remembered more of my “dream”. I was Chosen; I was her champion. As flattered as I was---only slightly---I couldn’t help but think what that would entail. I knew my Greek myths; I knew what happened to the champions of the Greek Gods. Things didn’t end so well for them. So being a champion might not be a good thing. I can also remember that I turned her down earlier, that I ran away from her. I mean who wouldn’t right. But seeing her here now---praying to her earlier---it all seemed kinda silly to deny her.

She smiled. “That’s why I have come. I have answered your prayers. I’d like to see men’s God do that.”

She snorted and got to her feet, rising much taller than her small chair should have contained. She did that floating glide thing, moving in a blink of an eye. One minute she was over there and next she was standing next to me. She placed her hands on my shoulders. Her hands were huge now, like the size of large plates---bad analogy, I’m sorry. She gently stroked my cheek with a finger then just as gently turned me around. Instead of the bullets, there was a tall gilded mirror. I gasped at its appearance. But then again She was a Goddess; She could make things appear like that without a problem.

“What do you see?” she asked, making sure I was standing directly in front of the mirror.

I looked at my reflection. “Me” I said, stating the obvious.

She laughed. “No, you see a boy. You see the life you lead now, the life that is a shadow of who you really are.”

I was confused. What was she talking about? “I don’t understand.”

“What if I told you that you’re meant for greater and better things?”

“Better things?”

“Much better things”

In the mirror, the gold belt appeared in my hands. I suddenly felt it in my real hands too. I looked down and was shocked to see it there. Just as I had when I saw it in my pack. Realization dawned on me: She was the one who put it there. Hera’s reflection behind me nodded. The belt was surprisingly heavy, heavier than I would have expected it to be. I hefted it in my hands. I was no longer overwhelmed with dizziness. I felt different holding it, powerful holding it. Instead of dizziness, the belt filled me with a strength that I never knew I possessed.

“The Girdle of Hippolyta” said Hera, soothingly. “Forged in the fires of Hephaestus, given to the Queen of the Amazons by me long ago. Upon her death, her body was cast in bronze, frozen for all time for her daughters to look upon and bask in her greatness. The girdle was placed on her body, to be a token of her great power, ever a sign that she was worthy of the Gods. It has sat all these long years, waiting, waiting for the proper one to come and claim it as their own.” She ran her fingers through my hair, the tips gently stroking my scalp. “Waiting for you.”

I was stunned. “Me?”

Hera smiled. “I knew as soon as you stepped foot on my island that there was something special about you. I have been waiting a long time for one such as yourself to come along, one with the power and the strength, one with the passion to help revitalize the Amazons once again.”

“Amazons?”

“You are that person” she stroked my cheek again. “You are that One. It is your destiny, your birthright. Put on the girdle, accept you fate.”

My hands trembled. Fear and excitement coursed through my body. The belt didn’t feel as heavy as it had before. I looked down at it, the gold gleaming in the light. This was the Girdle of Hippolyta, the very same one that Hercules was sent to recover. This was an item at one time thought to have not existed, something made up by Greek historians to tell good stories. Like most of the myths, I suppose. But here it was---in my hands---itching to be worn. But there was a small part of me that was afraid of what might happen, afraid of what I might become. The Champion of Hera, what did that entail exactly?

“I can’t make the decision for you” she said, “The choice must be yours.”

“Can I take it off?”

“Only in death” she said, not even bothering to sugar coat things. “The Girdle bonds with its wearer.”

I nodded. “Then Hercules never…”

Hera scoffed. “He wishes. He brought the little trollop some golden belt he got from a market,” She laughed. “Don’t believe everything that men write. They lie to pad their own egos.”

She sounded like my mother. But then again Hera was the first feminist.

“What will happen if I put it on?”

“Only Fate can answer that.”

Fate, that’s all I needed. But who could it hurt. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and slowly moved it toward my waist. The belt did the rest. I’m not sure what happened exactly. But there was this intense rush of energy through my body. I threw my head back and screamed. At first, it was the voice of a man, deep and loud. Soon it turned feminine and shrill, ear shattering in fact. I fell to the ground, my hands and bare legs sinking into the hot sand. Bare legs? I opened my eyes, feeling a tumble of hair fall around my face. I looked at it, shocked at what I was seeing. Long hair, longer than any hair I’ve ever had and blonde, so blonde it looked like spun gold.

I looked at my hands, they were thin and feminine. I lifted one up, noticing how soft my skin was and how hairless my arm appeared to be. There was something else, too. There were these strange golden bracelets on my arms, covering most of my wrist. I touched one, feeling a strange warmth coming from it. I got the same warmth when I touched the Girdle, too. I pushed myself to my feet, feeling things shift and move. When I stood up fully, the full effect of what happened became apparent when I looked in the mirror. There was a girl standing there, a beautiful blond girl. No, not just beautiful, she was gorgeous. Like a super model with flawless skin and dazzling blue eyes. She was tall too, at least six foot or more and wearing the skimpiest white dress. At least I think it was a dress, it was light and airy, leaving little to the imagination.

I reached up and touched my face. The girl reflected in the mirror touched her. Holy Hera---did I just think that---she was me?

“As beautiful as Aphrodite” said the Goddess as she stood behind me, placing her hands on my shoulders. “As I knew you would be.”

I was stunned. For a long time I stared at the girl I’d become…this semi-Goddess. I stuck out my tongue, wiggled my nose, opened and shut my eyes. But there was no denying it. She was me and I was hot. Ok, not exactly what I wanted to think but it was true. I turned a little, taking a look at my body in profile. I should have been totally freaked out by all of this but for some reason I was actually at peace. That should have freaked me out too but it didn’t. Why wasn’t I freaked out?

“You are as you should be, my Daughter.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, gasping at the sound of my new voice. Even that was perfect.

“The Girdle has seen who you really are on the inside and brought her to the forefront. Never again will you be burdened by the male form. You were an Amazon by Blood and now by Body.”

I nodded numbly. “What happens now?”

“Now” she said, the mirror disappeared and the frozen scene from earlier appeared, the bullets still frozen five feet away. “You punish the infidels who dare to set foot on the soil of the Amazons.”

A fury burned inside of me, a fury that I didn’t even know I could muster. Looking at them---at those Men---angered the hell out of me. I wanted to pound the snot out of them for defiling our sacred shores like this---our shores. Was I one of them now?

“My Lady” I said, inwardly groaning. “What if I need your guidance again?”

She smiled sadly. “I can no longer interfere. It is against the rules for Us to have contact with our Champions after giving them their Cause. But no this, I have Agents of this World, followers who have spent their whole lives worshiping me. When you need them, they will appear.”

“How will I know them?”

She smiled. “You are Amazon. They will know you.”

With that, she slowly faded from view. As soon as she was gone, the world unfroze and the bullets continued to come right for my head.

Shit. I threw up my arms and something miraculous happened.

My arms instinctively went up to protect my face. Yeah, I know, blocking face with arms not a good thing. But something happened. Something unbelievable. I heard them, the bullets as they pinged off the bracelets. I opened my eyes; the noise of the world came roaring back to me. I was dazed and confused. And cold, God was I cold. There was a morning breeze whipping through the air, chilling my bare legs, flapping the end of my tiny white dress. White dress, bare legs? I looked down quickly. What the hell happened to my jeans and t-shirt? Hell what happened to my sneakers. They were gone, replaced by these gold sandals that wrapped up my ankles.
How messed up is that.

But at the moment, I had more important things to worry about. There were several thugs on my beach. Yeah, my beach. Suddenly I felt very possessive of the beach and the island. My island, Themiscyra. The Home of the Amazons, the sacred place where no man was supposed to set foot. The four fools standing in front of me were invaders on our sacred soil and they needed to be punished. Don’t ask me where all this righteous hate was coming from. It was like my mind---my thoughts–were being fueled by some kind of Amazonian hard wiring. All I knew was that these men were infidels and as such, they should be punished for their crimes.

And punished they would be.

The situation finally got back to the four of them.

The one with the machine gun was standing there, staring at me with a shocked look on his face. I suppose it’s not every day that a little male punk turns into a tall strapping female supermodel who happens to deflect your bullets. Yeah, I’m still trying to get my mind around the bullet deflecting thing too. He rose the gun, pointed it at me but I think he second guessed what he was about to do because he lowered it a few seconds later. His friends---including that traitorous bastard Costas---all stared in shock at me. Hey, it’s not every day that someone spontaneously changes gender, it would shock me too. Hell, it was shocking me but I was a little too preoccupied to think about that at the moment.

“You boys have one chance,” I said, trying to sound both confident and bad ass. “Get back in your boat and get the hell out of here”

Their shock finally faded to be replaced by laughter. I think they thought solidarity and strength in numbers. There were four of them and they all appeared to be armed---the others had weapons that I didn’t notice before. They continued laughing, probably thinking that the bullet deflection thing was a fluke. I was kinda hoping that it wasn’t. Finally, the guy with the machine gun stopped laughing. When he spoke, it was in Greek but somehow my brain processed it as English. How freaky is that?

“I don’t know what kind of freak you are,” he said, raising the gun again. “But there’s no way you can get lucky a second time.”

I flinched as he fired. I knew he was going to do it again---it was inevitable---but it still scared the hell out of me. But I think that fear turned into adrenaline or something. As soon as the bullets reached me, it was like I had lightning fast reflexes or something. It’s the only way I can describe what I did. Before---like him---I thought the bullet-deflecting thing was a fluke. Somehow, as soon as the bullets reached me, my body took over. It was amazing. I deflected every single one with my bracelets, shocked and amazed as each one bounced off as I effortlessly moved my wrists to block them. It was the coolest damn thing in the world.

The four of them gasped, probably feeling about the same as I was right now.

The gunman recovered quickly though. He raised his gun, preparing to fire another burst. Me, I was getting kinda pissed. Couldn’t this jackass take a hint? Just as he was about to fire, I decided enough was enough and took the fight to him. I ran---faster than I’ve ever run before---I got to him in a matter of seconds. I grabbed a hold of the red-hot barrel, it burned my hand but I was fueled by anger so I barely noticed it. I snatched the gun from his hands and in a feat of incredible strength, I snapped it in half. As stunned as both of us were, I was hardly down. I tossed the useless gun fragments over my shoulder, grabbed the front of the bastard’s shirt and lifted him a good two feet off the ground.

"I think you and I got off on the wrong foot here.”

He nodded vigorously, the crotch of his pants becoming damp. I crinkled my nose in disgust and prepared to heave him into his buddies. But at that particular moment one of them decided to be a hero. He came at me with a baseball bat, swung it pretty hard into the back of my head. It hurt like a bitch. I stumbled, seeing stars. So ok, I was really strong but I wasn’t indestructible, good to know. I wavered on my feet, nearly dropping the jackass in my hands. But I recovered quickly. I snapped the bastard in my hand around, using him as my own “bat” as I slammed him into his brave friend. Both of them went down in a tangled heap. You’d think that would stop the others from trying to interfere but these guys were bred to be stupid or something. The other two came at me, one of them had a knife, the other was unarmed.

The unarmed man came first. He came from behind too, jumping on my back. He was a big guy, huge and muscular. I think he thought his sheer bulk would bring me down. My new body was tall and lean, muscled like a track runner or a swimmer. I’m not sure which because I hadn’t really had a lot of time to look myself over. But I think this guy thought he could drive me to the ground and pound on me. It was a good plan and probably would have worked in a normal situation and with a normal girl. Girl, I never thought I’d refer to myself as one of those. But yeah, I wasn’t a normal girl.

He wrapped his arms around my upper body, pinning my own arms to my sides. I think he was trying to hold me so his friend could stab me in the chest. The only problem was that I wasn’t about to be a good girl and be stabbed. I forced out with my arms, a little too strong for my own good I think. I threw the bastard off my back at the same time as his friend lunged. I spun away from the stabbing knife, grabbed his wrist and snapped his hand up. There was a snap of bone and his knife dropped to the sand. I brought my elbow down on the back of his neck, driving him to the ground.

He didn’t get back up. I snapped around to his fellows. The gunman and the amateur batter were still in a tangle trying to untangle themselves. The other guy was lying a few feet away but slowly pushed back up. He shook himself off, shedding a fine covering of white sand. There was a trickle of blood running from his nose. He cracked his knuckles and glared at me.

“I’m not sure what kind of freak you are,” he said, spitting a red blood like substance from his mouth. “But I’m going to end you.”

Really, how fricken clichéd was that? He charged me like a bull. I stood my ground, placing my feet far enough apart to make a move if I had to. He came at me with his head down, trying to head butt me I think. He got within only a few feet before I stopped him. It happened so quick. I grabbed him underneath the shoulders, lifted him straight up and threw him over my back. I think we were both pretty surprised. He had to weigh close to three hundred pounds and I was lucky if I weighed one twenty now. He went clear over my head, landing about ten feet behind me. I snapped around, not waiting for him to get up and try again. I was already tired messing with these jackasses. It was bad enough that they had the gall to invade my island but when I asked them to leave, they grew hostile.

I marched over to him as he writhed on the ground, groaning from the pain. Apparently, I hurt him this time. Good, I wasn’t prepared to keep knocking these bastards down every time they got up. I stood over him, watching him as he rolled about, flopping like a fish out of water.

“Are you done now?”

He didn’t say anything. But his fallen friends did.

“You freak,” shouted a voice, one that I recognized as the gunman’s.

Great, round two.

“Clearly you guys don’t know when to quit,” I said, turning to watch the gunman help his buddy up off the ground.

“You should listen to him,” I snapped around to Costas, who’d spoken from the boat. He lowered his head. “I mean her, you should listen to her.”

They didn’t. The gunman had the bat now. He charged me, swinging. You’d think these guys would learn that they were beat. He came swinging pretty hard. But to me it was like he was moving in slow motion. He swung for my side. I snapped up and grabbed the end of the bat, yanking it from his grasp. I spun it around and smacked him upside the head with it. He went spinning away. He actually twirled in the air before he hit the ground. He didn’t get up from the ground. I don’t think I killed him but he wouldn’t be shooting a gun for a while.

The last man standing didn’t attempt to make a move. I think realization was finally setting in. He smiled at me, taking a few steps back. “It wasn’t our idea,” he stammered then stabbed a finger in Costas’ direction. “It was his.”

I turned my attention back to Costas. I had a pretty good idea he was the ringleader behind all of this. After all, he was the only one who knew we were on this island. He was also the only other person who knew that we’d found something of some significance here. I’m sure he probably overheard Mom telling Donna when she called. It was a shame really because Costas seemed like a pretty good guy. He had some great big fish stories he’d been sharing with me over the last few days. I thought he was my friend and he reminded me so much of my grandfather that it hurt. It hurt even more so knowing a guy like that could ever betray us like that.

I walked over to the boat, leaving the other guy to stew in his own juices---he pissed himself too. Costas freaked when he saw me walking over. He ran to the wheel and tried to start the engine. He got it going just as I got to the boat. The speedboat was made of fiberglass, it was long and sleek. Its nose was sticking pretty far out into the beach. I took a deep breath, asked for Hera to give me more strength---must be ingrained in me somehow---and slammed both my fists as hard as I could into the bow. The boat shock from the impact. Then the whole bow collapsed in on itself, crumbled and ruined. There was no way anyone in their right mind would think about taking it onto the water. Even if they did, they wouldn’t get very far with it.

Costas stumbled away from the wheel and pulled a small pistol out of his belt. He pointed at me and fired. I deflected the bullet with one wrist; it bounced harmlessly off my bracelet. He fired again and I easily deflected it. He fumbled for a third shot as I jumped up onto the boat, it shock when I landed. He tried to take that third shot but I snatched the gun out of his hand. He stared in wide-eyed horror as I crumbled it in my hand like a pop can. Yeah, I’m that strong now, who knew. He fell backwards onto the bench I saw him on earlier, wetting himself too. What was it with pirates and peeing themselves? He then fell to the deck on his knees in front of me, crying for forgiveness.

Costas was a little man, barely five foot. Seeing him on the ground groveling to me was pretty pathetic. I reached down and grabbed the back of his shirt, lifting him off the ground. He wiggled and kicked. I think he thought I was going to kick his ass and a part of me wanted too. Instead, I carried him with me as I jumped off the boat. The other guy---the one that was still standing---moved away as I approached, carrying Costas like a bad kid in need of a spanking. I tossed the fisherman on the ground with his three unconscious friends. He whimpered and tried to scurry away but I quickly stepped around him, blocking his exit. There was nowhere to go after all except into the jungle and I didn’t want him anywhere near my mother and Donna.

Now that the fighting was over, I could take a deep breath. Not that I was holding it in or anything. But I was so pumped up earlier that I didn’t really have the time to do anything else. But that I was finally standing still, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do more: scream or cry. It not every day that a guy turns into a girl in a blink of an eye like that. Hell I was a tall, legged supermodel in a tiny dress that left little to the imagination. Don’t even get me started about the things on my chest. I was afraid to look and or touch them even. The closest I ever got to a pair of boobs was looking at Donna’s from afar. Now I had my very own pair. I bit my lip, trying to keep myself from crying.

“He didn’t say anything about there being a Meta here.”

I snapped up when one of them talked. It wasn’t Costas because he was still whimpering to himself. It was the other guy. He was now sitting with his back to a tree, trying his hardest not to look at me. Neither one of them were a threat anymore. I just wasn’t ready to think about what to do with them. I’d definitely have to call the authorities but first I’d have to explain things to Mom and Donna. I groaned as that realization dawned on me. That’s going to be an interesting conversation. First, I wanted to know what the other guy was talking about. What the hell was a Meta?

“What’s a Meta?”

The guy looked like I’d boiled his eyeballs or something. “You’re kidding right? What have you been living under a rock or something?”

I nodded. Pretty much. Mom and I weren’t really up on the current events. We didn’t have a TV at home and Mom didn’t believe in the newspaper---don’t get me started on the reasons. At school, not too many people talked to me. I had only a core group of friends, Connor being my best one. But all he liked to talk about was football. So if these Meta things were a big deal, I wouldn’t know a damn thing about them.

He opened his mouth, about to give me the rundown when a snap sounded behind us. Ok, more off to the side. I snapped around, half expecting to see one of the jackasses up and ready for another go at it. Instead, I saw Donna. She was standing there holding a really big stick and a look on her face that was a combination of shock and pure terror. She looked from me to the guys on the ground then over at the boat and then finally back at me. She trembled a bit, dropping the stick.

“Who the hell are you?”