As he worked the expensive lotion into his restored skin, he smiled to the point of nearly giggling. Not only was the raw-skin pain gone, but so was the anxiousness he’d felt for the past thirteen years. His daughter was back in his possession. The smile on the sadistic scientist’s face was genuine—as genuine as possible for the wicked scientist.
He stood and moved with more grace than he should have at his age toward his closet. He chose one of his favorite three-piece suits and began getting dressed. Everything felt delicious on his skin. And as he donned his blue silk shirt, feeling the way it caressed the fresh, new skin on his back and shoulders, the thought occurred to him that after he visited his lovely daughter in the chateau, he may have to go on one of his excursions. Surely the experience would be all the more tantalizing now that he had his sense of touch back.
Williams made a mental note to gather at least a dozen syringes of the curative antigen derived from his daughter’s blood before he left. That, and order his scientists to double production of it. He had no intention of ever going back to his skinned version.
He used his lint brush to remove the tiniest of particles from his left shoulder as he thought back to those moments in the helicopter. He almost forgot to grab the container of her blood when his metahumans came to retrieve him from the crash site. If he had left it, he would never have discovered the antitoxin component buried inside. He’d isolated the immunizer and tested it on a few lab rats before dosing himself. And look at the results!
He nearly giggled at his handsome reflection. He suspected he’d had an allergic reaction to the Infinite Serum. Meg’s blood cured him, but the caveat was that he had to continue dosing himself with the antitoxin for it to work. If he missed a dose, his skin would ache all over and start to sag, then slough off like a snake’s.
He had to keep the girl alive, incapacitated and hidden from Donovan Arkdone.
He exited his chambers to find his faithful manservant. Williams handpicked him for his strength, size, obedience and simplemindedness. Stanley Marks fit his duties perfectly.
“The bag is on the dresser, Stanley,” Williams reached in his pocket to retrieve his gloves out of habit, but smiled shrewdly when he realized he hadn’t brought them. He no longer needed to wear the black leather gloves to hide his bloody skin from the world. He strode decisively to the limo and paused long enough to let Stanley open his door for him. Once inside the sumptuous leather-coated cabin, he reached into his front pocket and retrieved the familiar metallic spheres. With a sigh, he rolled them in his smooth, flesh-covered hand and reveled in the cool sensation of the orbs. The scenery flew past unnoticed by the scientist deep in thought about all the possibilities his daughter’s blood afforded him.
If it cures me of my ailment, what would it do as a curative agent for others? How much money would someone pay to find out?
He smiled widely. Stanley Marks glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled, too. He was just happy to see his Director happy. They continued their drive to Dr. Williams’ private jet in silence, save the raspy metal on metal scraping sound hissing like a snake from the back seat.
Chapter 35 Where Am I?
Meg awoke groggy and stiff in a darkened room and immediately, she knew something was very wrong. The room smelled sterile and cold. She carefully slipped her hand out to her side, searching for something that should be there. Her empty hand only found empty space.
She heard the faint beeping of monitors. A surge of panic slipped like ice through the fog in her mind. She blinked hard, reaching her hands up to her face instinctively rubbing her eyes to clear her vision in a vain effort to clear her mind.
Where am I?
She felt the wires attached to her skin drape across her frame as she moved. With careful hands, she found each of their points of contact and yanked them free of the medical tape securing them in place. The IV came out first. She held the site for a few seconds to encourage clotting before she tackled the electrodes on her chest and head. The connector gel left gummy clumps in her hair making her scalp itch. A catheter was in place. She reached between her legs and pulled slowly but firmly until the piercing pain flashed and she was free.
Her eyes had adjusted just enough for her to make out shadows by the angry lights flashing across the now impotent heart and brain monitors.
Shit, this isn’t good. Someone’s going to come running, she thought as she tried sitting up. A wave of dizziness hit hard and she had to steady herself by holding on to the bed’s railing. Scooting as fast as her aching body would allow, she worked her way down to the foot of the hospital bed and let her legs dangle off the edge.
She looked down at herself, trying different muscles to see if she would have the strength to stand.