Chapter 3 - The Blood Alliance
Julian’s sympathetic brotherly expression cracked, replaced by a cold, sharp sneer.
The rain poured down harder, plastering Julian’s slicked hair to his forehead. He reached slowly into his suit jacket, drawing a snub-nosed revolver.
"You always were too loud, Harrison," Julian said smoothly, the affection in his voice completely gone. "You built Vance Bio-Tech, but you lacked the vision to monetize it. You wanted to cure people. I wanted to sell them lifetime maintenance."
Harrison felt his heart break into a thousand pieces. "My own brother... seven years in a chair... because of you?"
"I didn't want to kill you, Harrison," Julian sighed, raising the barrel of the gun. "I just needed you out of the executive seat. And this street rat... he was supposed to be neutralized in the Lower District three years ago during the neural-lab purge. How he survived Dr. Thorne's bio-experiments is beyond me."
"I survived because the earth didn't want your poison," Kael said softly.
Julian aimed the gun straight at Kael's forehead. "It doesn't matter. You both die in this alley. I'll tell the press the operatives were terrorists."
Julian pulled the trigger.
CLICK.
Nothing happened.
Julian frowned, pulling the trigger again. CLICK. CLICK.
"Water and static," Kael said coldly.
Julian looked down in terror at his hand. A microscopic layer of frost had formed over the gun's firing pin, fused solid by the moisture in the air through Kael's silent bio-manipulation.
Before Julian could drop the useless weapon, Harrison—fueled by a sudden, apocalyptic rage—used the newly awakened strength in his upper body to grab Julian by his expensive silk tie, dragging his brother down onto his knees in the mud.
"You took seven years of my life, Julian," Harrison snarled, his fist striking Julian across the jaw with brutal force. Julian collapsed onto the pavement, knocked unconscious.
Breathing heavily, Harrison dropped his brother's tie. He turned his chair toward Kael.
The boy was leaning heavily against the brick wall of the alley, his face deathly pale. A trickle of dark blood was leaking from Kael’s left nostril.
"Kael!" Harrison pulled his chair closer. "Are you hurt?"
"Using the power... takes life," Kael gasped, wiping the blood with his ragged sleeve. "I can fix your legs, Mr. Vance. But every time I use my hands, I burn my own timeline. That's why I asked for a million dollars."
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"Why?" Harrison asked, his voice shaking with newfound respect and horror. "What could an eleven-year-old boy need a million dollars for?"
Kael looked down at his bleeding bare feet. "To buy the medicine that keeps the forty other children in the underground ward from turning into stone."
