Peter glanced back. “I can feel you watching me. Stop. It’s creepy.”
“This again?” I replied. “You’re so paranoid. All I’m concerned about is not breaking an ankle on these rocks.”
Peter furrowed his brow. “I know you’re up to something.”
“Like I said, you’re paranoid. Now, let’s head back to camp and cook those fish. And don’t let me forget your antibiotic injection.”
Peter began walking, his hips swaying with each step. There was even a slight jiggle to his butt cheeks. “Again? You’ve been giving me injections ever since the shipwreck, but my wound is already healed. We should save it in case we get hurt again.”
“Hey, who’s the doctor? Not you, Mr. Convict. The bacteria that causes sepsis can lurk in your bloodstream for months, so it’s crucial to keep taking the medicine.”
“But they’re making me all... puffy.”
My gaze was drawn to the “puffiness” Peter was talking about. His breasts had definitely grown, and he also seemed to have lost muscle mass—not that he’d had much to begin with. “Puffy is better than dead. Now, hurry up. We want to get back before dark.”
Peter trudged along, his blonde hair bouncing with each step. I couldn’t help but smile. I’d been the ship’s doctor aboard a vessel contracted to transport Peter and a dozen other dangerous criminals from Lisbon to Algiers. On the journey, a rogue wave destroyed the ship and drowned everyone except us, although Peter was seriously injured. I treated him but I was more than a bit nervous about being alone with him on a deserted island. According to the briefing before the voyage, the felons had all been convicted of heinous crimes, and I had no idea what Peter was capable of. To that end, I’d been secretly injecting him with the testosterone blockers and estrogen I had in stock for one of our crew members, who’d been a transgender woman. I’d hoped this would make a potential monster easier to manage.
Either it’d worked wonders, or perhaps Peter had simply been a good person all along, because he hadn’t caused me any trouble. In fact, I’d grown quite fond of him during our months on the island, and the treatments had made him an increasingly...convivial companion.
As we approached our makeshift camp, I glanced over at him and smiled. The sun was setting, casting a soft, pinkish hue over his curvier silhouette. At some point, I’d need to explain to Peter why his body was changing. But for now, I’d simply enjoy the view.