Chapter 750: Chapter 750: Preferably Alive
Joseph came to slowly, the world tilting as pain throbbed behind his eyes. His hand went to his temple and came away slick with blood. Vera had shoved him so hard that he had hit his head against the wall and blacked out.
He sucked in a sharp breath and pushed himself upright, the muscles in his body protesting as the hall came into focus.
He saw her.
"Mom?" His voice broke.
Joseph staggered forward, his legs giving way beneath him as he dropped to his knees beside Moira’s body. Her eyes were wide and empty, staring at nothing. His shaking hands hovered over her face, then fell uselessly to his sides.
"No... no, no, no—" He choked, then screamed as his gaze dropped to the gaping hole in her throat.
He turned slowly, horror hollowing him out from the inside.
Vera stood a few steps away, calm, collected, and almost bored after she had killed her own mother.
"What have you done?" Joseph whispered, his voice cracked.
"I did what had to be done," Vera replied flatly. "It’s natural selection. The weak get eliminated, and the strong remain at the top of the food chain."
Joseph stared at her in disbelief. How was this monster his sister?
She stepped closer to him. "So now you choose," she said, tilting her head. "Are you with me or against me?"
Joseph didn’t answer.
"Will you help me finish what our ancestors started? Or will you cower like them?" She gestured dismissively toward Moira’s body. "If it’s the latter, I’ll give you the same easy death."
Silence stretched between them.
Joseph’s gaze drifted back to the bodies on the floor—his mother, his brother. His shoulders slumped, his head bowing as shame flooded him.
Vera laughed.
"I thought as much."
She turned and walked to Patrick’s body, kicking him just to be sure he was gone. He was dead.
"Get rid of the bodies," Vera said over her shoulder. "Then come find me. We have havoc to wreck."
Then she walked away, laughing, untouched by the carnage she’d left behind.
As soon as she was gone, Joseph broke down in tears. He collapsed over his mother’s body, trembling as he gently closed her eyes with his palm.
"Forgive me," he whispered through the tears. "I’m a coward who couldn’t protect you."
He crawled to Patrick next, his breath hitching. "We always called you the weak one. Turns out it was me all along. I’m sorry I didn’t defend you or Mother."
He reached for Patrick’s arm—and it grabbed him back.
Joseph nearly screamed, then froze as Patrick wheezed, barely conscious, blood bubbling at his lips.
"Save... me," Patrick rasped.
Joseph nodded, his eyes darkening with determination.
---
The situation in President Roy’s office was total chaos.
Screens lined the walls, each one flashing a different angle of the disaster that had wrecked the city. Thermal scans lit up clusters of red across a city map while phones buzzed nonstop, and the aides argued furiously.
President Roy stood at the center of it all, hands planted on the conference table, and his jaw clenched so tight it ached.
"Enough," he snapped, and the room fell silent instantly.
"Tell me what the problem at hand is. I want the truth, and not the version withheld from the public."
The head of Biosecurity swallowed. "Sir, Noah, the mastermind of this incident, was never apprehended."
Roy’s eyes narrowed. "I know that. So where is he?"
"Off the grid," the man admitted. "There’s no digital trail or sighting of him. He vanished after the incident. And not just that."
Roy lifted his head. "What now?"
"We have no idea how this virus came about, but we suspect it has something to do with Ignis."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Although the blood analysis from the infected does not confirm Ignis in their bloodstream, but we analyzed the video, and Noah showed signs of being under the effects of Ignis."
Roy exhaled through his nose. "How many infected?"
There was a pause.
"Confirmed?" the Director said. "Twenty-seven. Suspected exposure pushes that number closer to forty."
Roy groaned, running his hand through his hair. Then he asked. "What about Patrick?"
The silence this time was worse.
"President Roy, we’ve deployed every resource," the aide continued. "Tracking, warrants, surveillance, but nothing. Not even David Avax has produced results."
Roy’s expression darkened. "David Avax doesn’t come up empty."
"Well," the man muttered, "this time he did."
Before Roy could respond, a sharp tone cut through the room.
"Secure line," an aide announced. "Incoming call from Alpha King Elijah."
Roy didn’t hesitate. "Put him through."
The main screen changed, and Alpha King Elijah appeared, posture straight, and expression carved from stone.
"President Roy," Elijah greeted evenly.
"Elijah," Roy replied. "I’m positive you’re calling about the incident."
"I am," Elijah said. "And I won’t waste time. You saw it clearly, your own people started that fight."
A murmur rippled through the room.
Roy didn’t deny it. "And your wolf escalated it."
"After a human attacked him first?" Elijah countered. "The footage is clear. We both know what happens when you provoke a wolf."
Roy leaned back. "And thanks to whatever the fuck happened, I now have a strange virus wreaking havoc on my city." He sighed. "We need to find Patrick by all means. He must be responsible for this."
"We’ve been tracking Patrick Elias Turner for a long time, and every effort so far has failed. Doesn’t that tell you something?"
Roy frowned. "Meaning?"
"Technology cannot locate him. So we will consult a witch." Elijah decided.
Several advisers scoffed openly.
"A witch?" Roy repeated incredulously.
"Yes," Elijah said calmly. "Magic predates your satellites."
Roy shook his head. "Fine. Do whatever superstition you want. I don’t care how you find him."
Elijah studied him. "Then we agree."
Roy stepped closer to the screen. "Patrick is now a global threat. If you find him—"
"Dead or alive?" Elijah asked.
Roy didn’t blink. "Alive. He needs to clean up the mess he made."
Elijah inclined his head. "Fine, then. I’ll try. For now, try keeping your city together."
Then the screen went dark.
"Fucking asshole," Roy muttered under his breath before turning back to the room. Then he instructed them, his voice hard as steel. "Lock the city down tighter. Quarantine every infected and run experiments if you have to."
One aide hesitated. "Sir... ethically—"
"Ethics don’t matter if the city falls and we all become God-knows-what that human became," Roy snapped. "Contain this, or there won’t be a city left to save."