Chapter 8 - The Desperate Defibrillation
Emergency backup lights flickered on, casting an eerie red glow across the operating room.
“One minute,” Damian whispered, his eyes losing focus entirely.
Without power, the specialized EMP machine was completely useless.
I panicked, tearing through the medical cabinets until I found a standard manual defibrillator.
“This will not disarm the bomb, Clara,” Damian warned, barely able to speak.
“It will short-circuit the pacemaker and stop my heart completely.”
I smeared the conductive gel onto the heavy metal paddles with shaking hands.
“If your heart stops, the bomb has no rhythm to detonate against,” I reasoned frantically.
“Then I will bring you back using adrenaline.”
Damian offered a weak, accepting smile.
“Do it,” he commanded quietly.
I charged the paddles, the machine whining loudly in the quiet room.
Lila stood bravely by the door, watching her mother fight to save the scary man she had befriended.
“Clear!” I shouted, pressing the paddles firmly against his chest.
His body arched violently off the table as the massive electrical shock hit his system.
The loud, continuous beep of the heart monitor confirmed that his heart had stopped entirely.
I looked at the remote control on the counter.
The timer froze at precisely twelve seconds.
I grabbed the thick needle of adrenaline, preparing to plunge it into his chest to restart his heart.
Before the needle could pierce his skin, a gunshot shattered the glass window of the operating room door.
Marcus casually walked through the broken glass, holding a smoking gun in his hand.
He looked at Damian’s lifeless body on the table and smiled with immense satisfaction.
“Well done, Clara,” Marcus clapped slowly.
“You did my dirty work for me.”
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He grabbed Lila by the arm, yanking my screaming daughter forcefully toward him.
“Now, give me the rabbit, or I take the girl,” Marcus threatened.
