Chapter 54
Paul searched the wardrobe for something to wear. He had no idea how long he’d been in bed for. He turned on the TV and saw that it was Sunday afternoon.
He’d lost several days of his life, and he felt familiar anger rushing up from his toes.
He pulled on a pair of shorts and a thin sweater and looked around. His mind whirred and he no longer knew what was true or false. He couldn’t distinguish reality from fiction. He looked through the closed curtains and saw where he was.
All he knew for certain was that he needed to get away.
He must get away.
He went to pull on some trainers, but he felt the overwhelming desire to throw up and he made it to the bathroom just in time to retch over the toilet bowl.
When he stood up, he felt dizzy, and he doused his face with water from the tap.
His face was hot, and he looked at his reflection in the mirror.
His eyes were sunken and dark, and his cheeks were grey-looking.
He looked fifty years old. Sweat covered his brow and his hair was scruffy.
The worst part was the mental questioning.
His head was never quiet. It was as if an alien had invaded his brain and spoke to him constantly, telling him he was useless, weak and phony.
He went back to the bedroom and took a swig of fluid from his water bottle, scrunching up his face.
He knew what was in it and he was aware that it was harming him, but he couldn’t help himself.
He’d seen addiction in many of his friends, but he’d never thought it would grip him again so easily. He believed he was stronger than it.
In control.
But their product was poisoned.
It had been a game-changing creation. The balance of vitamins, special isolates and plant additives was a momentous step forward – no, a leap – for the industry and they were charging ahead with the new revolution in supplements.
But FairGro wanted to go one step further.
Paul wiped sweat from his forehead, and he couldn’t tell what was tears and what was perspiration. The feeling of complete hopelessness overwhelmed him, and he wished Jamie was still alive.
He’d been outside at Heron Hall when Jamie’s body hit the floor, but he hadn’t been able to recall how he got there. The night air had been cooler than the previous few days and he’d worn a loose jacket. He was out there getting some air after their argument.
Another one.
He’d passed the assassin on the stairs and recalled being struck by how ordinary he seemed.
Now, he heard movement outside his door and wondered if they were coming for him. He felt rage building up inside him.
It was working.
The door opened and all he saw was enemies.
And the iPad.
They were here for one of two reasons: either to end the experiment and release him of his duties, thereby frying his brain and locking him up in a safehouse somewhere, like the other assets, or complete the set up for Jamie’s murder, which they’d already begun.
The pieces fell into place. He’d be the fall guy this time.
He’d walked straight into it. Thinking he could get rich from taking a few drugs like a lab rat had been beyond stupid.
It was reckless. They’d played him all along.
‘You should have taken me back to the USA,’ he told them.
They closed in.
‘It’d be easier to kill me there,’ he said.
They were slow.
But Neurohydroxy-14 made him quick, agile and terrifyingly strong. He took them by surprise and produced a heavy glass globe paperweight from behind his back with expert precision. He brought it down on Tilda’s smug face first and rather enjoyed the feeling it gave him.
The long nights spent in her bed meant nothing, he realised now. Hurting her felt good.
Next, he caught Hank’s iPad and it thundered out of his hands and into the wall, then he swiped at the big Texan and caught him square on the ear, and he went down like a sack of Texan cattle feed. Then he dropped the paperweight and dashed out into the corridor.
They had no one else with them. Fools.
From there, he leapt over the balcony and landed on the soft grass underneath the ballroom, and he sprinted away towards the woodland on the edge of the property. He felt superhuman.
He knew exactly where he was going. Because Jamie had told him.
His priority wasn’t just to seek justice; perhaps it was too late for that. It was finding the other patient and stopping anybody else from getting hurt.