Chapter 7 - THE TALE OF TWO BROTHERSThe subterranean tunnel was narrow, damp, and choked with rust and rotting concrete. It had been built sixty years ago as an emergency drainage bypass for the old chemical plant, leading directly toward the industrial docks on the river.
Alexander ran through the gloom, the soles of his shoes splashing through ankle-deep water. The air was foul, heavy with the stench of sulfur and decay. Ahead of him, the beam of a flashlight bounced wildly against the concrete walls—Julian was running, but he was slowing down.
"Give it up, Julian!" Alexander’s voice boomed down the corridor. "There’s nowhere to go! The docks are surrounded by my security detail!"
"You always were a terrible liar, Alex!" Julian’s voice echoed back, strained and breathless. "You didn't call your security! You wanted to be the hero! You wanted to clean up father’s mess all by yourself!"
Julian suddenly stopped at a massive junction where three large drainage pipes converged into a central vault. He turned around, holding a heavy-caliber revolver he had hidden in his jacket. His flashlight beam struck Alexander full in the face, blinding him momentarily.
"Stop right there," Julian panted, his chest heaving. His hair was matted with sweat, his eyes wide and bloodshot.
Alexander stopped ten paces away, keeping his hands visible. The red emergency lights from the main facility didn't reach this far; the only light came from the crisscrossing beams of their flashlights.
"It’s over, Julian," Alexander said quietly. "The research, the facility, the serum—it’s done. We are shutting it all down."
"Shutting it down?" Julian laughed hysterically, the sound ringing off the damp brick walls. "You hypocrite! You stand there in your pristine suit, preaching morality, while you reap the benefits of everything father built! Who paid for your elite education? Who funded your first venture capital firm? It was blood money, Alex! All of it!"
"I didn't know," Alexander said, taking a slow step forward.
"Because you didn't want to know!" Julian shouted, raising the revolver higher. "It was easier to look at the sky from your penthouse terrace than to look down at the dirt where the bodies were buried! Father chose you to run the company because he knew you were smart enough to keep your hands clean while making billions. He left me the dirty work!"
"Then let me help you finish it," Alexander pleaded, his voice dropping into an earnest, human tone he hadn't used in decades. "Come back with me. We can expose what father did. We can use our foundation to treat every single person in the Shadows. We can make it right."
Julian looked at him for a long, quiet moment. For a split second, the madness in his eyes flickered, replaced by a profound, agonizing exhaustion.
"It’s too late, Alex," Julian whispered.
He lowered his flashlight beam to his own free hand. Julian pulled back his sleeve.
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Underneath his skin, black, varicose veins spiderwebbed from his wrist up toward his elbow—the unmistakable, terrifying sign of advanced toxic cellular poisoning.
"I’ve been infected for two years," Julian said softly. "I didn't kidnap Tommy to sell a cure to billionaires, Alex. I did it because I was dying... and I was terrified."
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