Chapter 13 Poisoned Orchard

• The rain hammered a relentless drum solo on the corrugated metal roof of Rook’s shelter. The air crackled, thick with diesel fumes, woodsmoke, and the electric tension of a standoff. Alexander Sterling stared at the apple in my outstretched hand, the single drop of Prometheus Lot 114-P glistening on its bruised red skin like a malevolent jewel under the harsh SUV headlights. His face, usually a masterpiece of controlled arrogance, had frozen. The carefully constructed mask of concerned benefactor shattered, revealing the raw, primal terror beneath – the horror of the creator confronted by his own monstrous creation.
• "You’re mad," he breathed, the words barely audible over the storm. He took an involuntary step back, his polished shoe sinking into the mud. "Utterly, clinically insane." His gaze darted from the apple to my face, searching for the bluff, finding only glacial resolve.
• "Am I?" My voice cut through the downpour, colder than the Hudson. I tilted the apple slightly, making the blue droplet catch the light. "Or am I just offering you a taste of the future you financed? The future you let Vivian unleash?" I nodded towards Maya, the young woman shivering violently on the blankets behind me, her feverish eyes reflecting the headlights. "Look at her, Alexander. Look closely. See the rings around her eyes? The tremors? Sound familiar? She drank water from the river you poisoned. She’s Patient Zero of your open-air experiment. Prometheus is loose. And it starts like this."