Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 53529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
His online bio, which was circulated by almost every news site last year, shows he wasn’t a food scientist. His areas of expertise are chemistry and molecular biology. So if MJP employed him for product development, they were trying to create more than protein shakes. They were up to something, and Morris was helping them. Until he hit a breakthrough.
His sister, Keni, once told me that Morris was fired after he experimented with his new “supplement” on people, but I also heard the rub had to do with the fact that Morris wouldn’t share his formula with MJP. They fired him for it, and he branched out on his own, planning to open his own company. Dealing his deadly street drug was his version of raising capital.
I open my email and see there’s an alert from one of the science weirdos I follow on Substack. He’s obsessed with Morris.
What? LA is being held hostage for five billion dollars?
I read on, and the author of the article says that an inside source claims the same insane chemist who killed “all those college students” with his heart-exploding drug last year has poisoned the city’s drinking water.
My mouth drops open.
I grab my cell and dial Kyle, who answers immediately.
“Why are you calling? What happened?”
“Is it true? Did Morris poison an entire city?” I ask.
“How do you know about that?”
“Mr. Sci-Fi.”
“Who’s that?” he asks.
“Just some nerd like me who tracks—you know what? Never mind. Is it true?”
“Yes.”
Oh shit. “How the fuck did he make such a large batch?”
“We think he chose Paris to make us believe he’d been out of the US this entire time. Now we know he purchased an industrial fertilizer company and probably made millions of gallons of his drug. We believe he dumped a portion in the LA Aqueduct. We’re trying to track the rest.”
And, of course, his drug is extremely new, which would make it difficult to detect.
But why would Morris do this? He went through so much trouble to get my blood. “His plan changed. Why?”
“What are you talking about?” Kyle asks.
“Morris claimed he wanted to figure out the recipe that made me, right?” I say.
“Yeah.”
“So why blackmail LA for money when he planned to sell his Huff recipe?”
“Maybe he needs it to buy more ingredients? I don’t know, Huff, but I have to go.”
“Listen to me. Morris wanted to sell his Huff formula to the highest bidder. I think this move means he couldn’t figure it out—he’s trying to get money another way.”
“Huff, we know.”
“You do?”
“We believe whatever he’s missing wasn’t in your blood. MJP holds the key ingredient. Morris wants it. Plus five billion dollars.”
“Or what?”
“Or he’ll poison Dallas next,” Kyle snaps.
I frown. “What about LA?”
Kyle is silent. Too silent. And from my experience, that means something.
My mind races. Millions of people took Morris’s drug via their tap water. The whole city will be hyped up. They’ll feel invincible. I gasp. And then they’ll crash in one week.
“They’re all going to die, aren’t they?” There’s no possible way for us to produce that much of Morris’s juice to re-dose the entire LA population every week for three months—the time it takes to wean a person off the drug without their heart exploding.
To be clear, the batch I got a hold of for the students at my university was made with a very rare compound—an extract from the pituitary gland of the white rhino, which is almost extinct. We know Morris used a synthetic compound in its place, but no one knows what it was, so the formula he gave us can’t be produced again. Especially not in bulk quantities.
“This is all my fault,” I mutter. “I should’ve killed Morris when I had the chance.”
“I have to go. Text you later.” Kyle ends the call.
I’m going to be sick. If I hadn’t been such a pussy, Joy might still be alive. And now, millions of people will die. All because I couldn’t take the life of one evil bastard.
I have to find Morris. He made a mega-batch before. He can do it again.
But what will he want in return?
CHAPTER TEN
For the next two days, I’m glued to my computer, hoping to find a needle in a haystack—Morris’s location—because my pleas to Kyle go unanswered. If they’d just tell me what they know about Morris’s whereabouts, I might find him.
All I know is the clock is ticking, and for whatever reason, the same powers who were supposed to guarantee my safety after I complied with their request to meet Morris in Paris are now giving me the cold shoulder. Even Kyle’s shut me out.
Why?
I want to give Kyle the benefit of the doubt, since it’s possible he has a good reason, but I can’t come up with one. Something doesn’t feel right.
More than anything, I really wish I had River to talk to. She could always see reason where I couldn’t. But I can’t lean on her, and I can’t not try to help all these innocent people. This wouldn’t have happened if I’d taken care of Morris. But no. I’d stood there telling myself that I needed the right moment. Morris had to get closer to me. All BS. I could’ve taken him down if I’d wanted to.