The Emerald Serpent
The water from Black River tasted like copper. Julian Ashworth knew this because he had drunk it, deliberately, from the palm of his cupped hands, standing knee-deep in the acidic current that fed directly from the Webb Coal Company's primary discharge pipe. The water burned his throat. His right arm, scarred from a shrapnel wound at Belleau Wood, was already breaking out in rash where the...
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