Chapter 16 - The Antidote
The room spun wildly as the neurotoxin invaded my bloodstream. I felt an intense, crushing pressure building behind my eyes. Richard stood over me, watching my agonizing deterioration with absolute clinical fascination.
"It is quite fascinating to watch it work up close," Richard murmured, checking his gold Rolex. "Your respiratory system should begin shutting down in thirty seconds."
I lay on the floor, my breathing turning into shallow, desperate gasps. But as Richard turned his back to pour himself a celebratory drink, a cold, calculated clarity washed over my mind.
I wasn't dying. I was acting.
Before coming to the gala, I had met with a rogue chemical engineer who had worked on the original Genesis Project. For the right price, he had synthesized a highly potent, broad-spectrum enzyme binder designed to neutralize the specific protein chains of Richard's toxin. I had injected myself with the antidote just an hour before stepping into the ballroom.
The pain in my head was a mild side effect of the chemical clash in my blood, but my nervous system was entirely intact. I let my eyes roll back slightly and allowed my body to go completely limp, mimicking the exact symptoms of a fatal stroke.
Richard walked back over, holding a crystal glass of bourbon. He knelt beside my seemingly lifeless body, reaching out with two fingers to check my carotid artery.
"Goodbye, Maya," he whispered.
The moment his fingers touched my neck, I struck.
My right hand shot upward, burying a concealed, micro-syringe directly into the soft flesh under his jaw. I depressed the plunger instantly, emptying the entire vial of concentrated, unrefined digitalis into his carotid artery.
Richard's eyes widened in sheer shock. He dropped his glass, the crystal shattering across the hardwood floor. He stumbled backward, clutching his throat, his gun slipping from his grasp.
I rolled over, pushed myself off the floor, and stood up, smoothing the wrinkles out of my emerald gown.
"You forgot one critical detail about me, Richard," I said coldly, watching him gasp for air as his legs collapsed under him.
Richard fell heavily onto his back, his muscles seizing violently as the massive overdose of digitalis overloaded his nervous system.
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"I survived Miguel. I survived your family," I stated, walking over and kicking the silenced pistol out of his reach. "I am a survivor. You are just a patient."
Richard tried to speak, but the paralysis was instantaneous. His vocal cords locked, and he could do nothing but stare at me with absolute, unadulterated terror. The drug wouldn't kill him, but the dose was high enough to cause permanent, irreversible neurological damage. The fake paralysis he had used to deceive the world was now his permanent reality.
