The three canisters sat on the workbench. They held the key to everything, or perhaps, the ultimate destruction.
Cane stared at them, his posture rigid.
“We have it,” he rumbled.
“Now we find the antidote. We use this to disarm them.”
Viper let out a disbelieving laugh. He tossed his cigar butt into a rusted bucket with a hiss and reached for his silver flask.
“Antidote? Cane, what in the hell are you talking about? You think we got a lab full of eggheads and microscopes in here? We’re a damn underground militia, not a pharmaceutical company. What we have is a weapon. The same weapon they used. It’s already been developed to turn men into… well, into what Silas is. Or, what his soldiers are.”
He gestured to the canisters with a cynical twist of his lips.
“This isn’t about reversi
