Chapter 8 - The Chemistry of Survival
Julian knew he couldn't beat Valentina in a direct physical contest of strength while she held the heavy brass poker; her rage gave her a terrifying momentum, and she was fueled by a cold, sociopathic adrenaline. He needed to use his mind. He was in a commercial kitchen—a room filled with chemical compounds, pressure differentials, and thermal hazards.
Slinking silently along the floor, Julian reached up to the under-counter cabinet beneath the main sink. His fingers found a large, plastic bottle of concentrated industrial ammonia used for cleaning grease traps. Beside it sat a jug of sodium hypochlorite—heavy-duty bleach.
A ruthless, desperate idea formed in his mind.
Mixing ammonia and bleach created chloramine gas—a toxic, lung-searing chemical weapon that attacked the mucous membranes instantly, causing severe burning, blindness, and suffocation.
Working entirely by feel in the pitch-black space under the counter, Julian unscrewed the caps of both bottles. He grabbed a deep stainless steel mixing bowl from a low shelf.
Above him, the screech of the brass poker against the counter stopped.
"I hear you breathing, Julian," Valentina’s voice came from just six feet away, on the other side of the prep island.
Julian poured half the bottle of bleach into the steel bowl, then dumped the entire container of industrial ammonia directly into it.
A sharp, violent chemical reaction began instantly. A thick, invisible plume of noxious gas expanded into the air above the bowl.
Julian held his breath, pulled his shirt up over his nose and mouth, and grabbed the handles of the bowl.
He stood up abruptly from behind the island.
May you like
Valentina turned, her eyes widening as she raised the brass poker to strike his head. "There you—"
Julian splashed the entire contents of the bowl straight into her face.
