Chapter 2 - The Poisoned Veins
Marcus stared down the dark barrel of the gun, his newly awakened legs trembling with sheer exhaustion.
The security guard reached out to grab the boy, but the child was incredibly fast.
The boy bit the guard's wrist hard, causing the massive man to drop his radio in sudden pain.
Marcus did not hesitate for a single second.
Using a surge of pure adrenaline, he slammed his heavy titanium wheelchair directly into the guard's knees.
The guard collapsed onto the pavement with a loud groan of agony.
Marcus grabbed the boy's hand and forced his weak legs into a clumsy, agonizing sprint through the crowded park.
They ducked into the dark, echoing tunnels of the nearest subway station just as more suited men arrived.
Marcus collapsed against the cold tile wall, gasping for air as his leg muscles burned like fire.
He looked down at his own calves, suddenly remembering the daily "nerve-blocker" injections his private doctors administered.
They had told him the expensive medication was the only thing preventing lethal blood clots.
He realized with absolute horror that his doctors had been intentionally paralyzing him every single morning.
He pulled his encrypted cell phone from his pocket, desperate to call his lifelong lawyer, Arthur Sterling.
"Arthur, my security team just tried to kill me, and I can actually feel my legs," Marcus panted into the receiver.
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There was a long, chilling silence on the other end of the private line.
"That is very unfortunate, Marcus, because I explicitly paid them to ensure you never stood up again," Arthur replied before hanging up the phone.
