Chapter 4 - THE POISONED BLOOD
"No!" Julian lunged forward with a desperate, gut-wrenching roar.
He didn't think; he acted on pure, animal instinct. He hit the doctor at waist level, the force of his momentum driving both of them against the heavy metal crash cart near the window. Trays of surgical instruments, glass vials, and metal bowls crashed to the linoleum floor with a deafening racket.
The doctor gasped as his back slammed into the sharp edge of the cart, but he reacted with terrifying speed. He slammed his elbow into Julian’s jaw, sending a metallic taste of blood into Julian’s mouth. Julian reeled back, vision swimming with white spots, but he didn't stop. He grabbed the doctor’s lab coat collar and slammed him violently against the brick wall beside the window.
The syringe flew from the doctor's grip, skittering across the floor and shattering against the base of Clara’s bed frame. The clear fluid spilled out, pooling harmlessly on the tiles.
"You bastard!" Julian pulled back his fist and drove it squarely into the doctor’s face. The gold-rimmed glasses shattered, blood spurting from the man's nose. The doctor slumped down against the wall, dazed and groaning.
Julian didn't wait to check if he was unconscious. He spun back toward the bed.
The IV fluid—contaminated with the poison—was already dripping down the plastic tube toward Clara’s arm!
"No, no, no!" Julian sprinted to the bedside, his fingers frantically ripping at the plastic tubing. He grabbed the needle inserted into the back of Clara’s hand and pulled it out with a swift, brutal motion. A small drop of blood bubbled on her pale skin, but the venomous fluid had been cut off just in time.
The heart monitor’s alarm began to blare—a high-pitched, relentless screeching. BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Outside in the hallway, heavy footsteps were approaching rapidly. Shouted voices echoed through the door.
"In here! Fast!"
Julian looked at the doctor on the floor, who was starting to stir, wiping blood from his broken nose with a chillingly calm expression.
"You think you saved her, Julian?" the doctor rasped, coughing up blood. "Look at the door. Who do you think guards this floor? The police? No... the hospital belongs to them."
The door swung open, and two muscular men in dark security uniforms stepped into the room. They weren't standard hospital guards; their posture, the cold killer instinct in their eyes, and the silver pins on their lapels—a stylized crest of a raven perched on a skull—marked them as private military contractors.
"Target identified," the lead guard said into his shoulder comms. "Terminate the breach. Secure the woman."
One guard drew a silenced pistol from beneath his jacket.
Julian’s instincts kicked into overdrive. He grabbed the heavy metal IV pole, ripping it free from its base, and swung it like a baseball bat. The solid steel bar slammed into the lead guard’s arm just as he fired.
THWIP!
The bullet tore through the plaster wall inches from Julian’s ear. The guard grunted in pain, dropping his gun. Julian didn't pause; he slammed the pole into the second guard’s chest, pushing them both back out into the narrow hallway.
Julian slammed the heavy oak door shut and flipped the deadbolt lock.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Bullets shattered the small rectangular wire-glass window, showerings of sharp fragments raining over the floor. The guards were attempting to breach the lock. They had maybe thirty seconds before they kicked the door down.
Julian turned to Clara. She was helpless, tethered to life only by the machines around her. He couldn't leave her. But he couldn't carry her out of a high-rise hospital while under heavy fire either.
"Julian..."
A voice. Faint, dry as withered leaves, barely audible above the banging on the door.
Julian spun around.
Clara’s eyes were open.
They were cloudy, bloodshot, unfocused, but they were looking directly at him. Her pale lips trembled under the clear plastic oxygen mask.
Julian dashed back to her side, leaning down so his ear was inches from her lips. He gently pulled the mask down.
"Clara! I'm here! I'm here, I swear to God I won't leave you!" he cried, gripping her cold hand tightly.
"The... boy..." she gasped, each word a agonizing struggle for air. "Leo... find... Leo..."
"The boy who shattered my car light? He's Leo? Clara, who is he?!"
May you like
Clara’s fingers twitched, grasping his sleeve with surprisingly desperate strength. "Your... son, Julian... He... he has... the file... The Obsidian... Protocol..."
Before Julian could absorb the earth-shattering words, a loud EXPLOSION rocked the door frame. The lock gave way, hinges tearing free from the wall.
