Rachel believed, and now knew, that Eva carried the G1 and G2 that rendered the SN2 unable to attack healthy cells. Having those good glycoproteins and the map of how to make more would eliminate weeks, maybe years, of attempts to replicate in the lab the G1 and G2 needed to neutralize SN2. If Eva was right, if somehow Rachel carried the antigen, then the vaccine might be days away. Rachel sipped her pleurisy root tea. The tea would strengthen her body’s immune system, including her SN2 antigens. When she was well enough, Rachel could harvest her own antigens. The rest would be easy for a brilliant virologist with the resources of the richest country in the world.
In the next few days, Rachel continued to improve. Her temperature returned to normal by the end of the first week of her illness. Every day, Eva visited her. Eventually, she was able to ditch her disguise and come and go as she pleased.
Eva taught Rachel about herbal remedies. She brought in samples of vervain, horehound, hyssop, and slippery elm. In the lab, they boiled down the herbs and poured the liquid over pleurisy root. Rachel called it asperula. Eva liked to add cayenne to the brew. When Rachel was well enough to take a ride into the desert, Eva showed her where the different herbs grew. All the time, everyone in Rachel’s lab and at the CDC was at work on replicating and mass producing the antigen to SN2. Within days, patients were given the antigen. For the first time, patients were surviving and improving.
Chapter Forty-Five
As the temperatures cooled in the canyons and snow began falling in the mountains, patients stopped dying. Sin Nombre 2 lost its title of the ultimate killer. The media rang with announcements of success by politicians who played no role in the pandemic. The western half of the United States inhaled deeply and exhaled a sigh of proud relief that stirred the clouds and brightened the sun.
With the spirit of accomplishment came a relaxation of law enforcement. Bloggers began to question the power grab of the CDC and the University of New Mexico. Prominent television evangelists opined at length why God allowed the pandemic: to demonstrate His power and His hatred for homosexuals and working women. Some explained that the pandemic was not over and that it would return, more virulent than ever, on various dates in the future. So many had an opinion, and they all seemed to be calling Dr. Rachel Bisette to gather facts they could carefully parse to support their particular theory.
“I have to get out of this place, away from all electronic communication,” said Rachel. She was back in her hotel. Ted Fuller had a room down the hall. Socoro was producing SN2 vaccine as fast as the little antigens would grow. Ted had no immediate plans to return to his office, and there was a rumor that he would be elected to the Socoro Board of Directors. It was good for Ted’s career to know a scientific genius. Nice, too, that he was in love with her.
“Road trip! Where shall we go? You love the water, so let’s rent a yacht and sail somewhere.”
Rachel laughed, “My vessel of choice is a tad smaller. Do you know anything about sailing?”
“We hire the crew, darling. That’s how geniuses and guys who know geniuses roll these days.”
“I’m going to the desert with Eva Yellow Horn. She’s teaching me about herbal medicine.”
“Don’t say the H-word. If Socoro finds out you’re dabbling in natural cures, you’ll be out of a job. Then, whose coattails will I ride?”
“Come with us,” said Rachel.
“No, thanks. That lady gives me the willies.”
Rachel laughed. “She’s all right.”
“She hates white men. How do I know she won’t brew me some tea that will take away my masculinity?”
“She’s a good friend of Osborne. A bigger horn dog there could never be.”
“I see your point. No, I’ll let you gals go on your own.”
Rachel kissed Ted on the forehead and laughed as she had not in months. “You’ll be here when I get back, won’t you?” Rachel asked.
“Let’s see. I lied to the FBI for you when you left Connecticut, and I broke through a federally mandated quarantine to be with you. After risking prison and being disbarred, you can count on me to wait until you get back from the desert.”
Rachel looked into Ted’s eyes and leaned into the deepest kiss she ever knew.
Chapter Forty-Six
On their trips to the desert, Rachel pumped Eva for information about her father.
“I met him back in the 1970s, after Wounded Knee. He was poking around, taking soil samples. I thought it was for an archeological dig. We keep track of the diggers. Some are OK, but some want to put our ancestors and their possessions in museums. Most of them are better now. More respectful. Even John Osborne. I wouldn’t let him near my daughter, if I had one, but the man respects artifacts. Go figure.
“Your dad was respectful, too. Anyway, we talked a few times. I liked him. What can I say, I was young, then. I was ashamed to admit it, but I kind of had the hots for your dad, even if he was white. Nothing came of it, of course.
“The Church Rock spill radicalized him. In 1979, he hated the lack of respect that would put radioactive material behind a dam made of earth in a place with so much seismic activity. That’s what he said; I memorized it. Did you know he testified before Congress? He wanted me to go with him. I just laughed. I told him if he wanted credibility, he better leave the squaw behind.
“When that dam broke, ninety million gallons of radioactive waste was released. Millions of tons went into the Rio Puerco. It contaminated Navajo Nation land here and in Arizona. Did you know more radiation was released from Church Rock than from the Three Mile Island disaster? Only Chernobyl was worse, but no one knows about it. Oh, it’s a Superfund site, now, and it’s still releasing radioactivity. We call the contamination yellow dirt.
“Your dad studied the ground water for radioactive contamination. He wrote letters to Kerr-McGee and United Nuclear. He told them about the tests he was conducting. That got their attention. They started following him, threatening him. Then, the one trip when he brought you and your mom, they killed him.”
“What? Who killed him?”
“The powers. Their plane was following his. The corporate plane was probably playing chicken with your dad’s plane, up in the sky. They did it before to scare him off. This time, the pilot lost control, and your dad’s plane crashed.”
Rachel’s eyes filled with tears. She reached out and took Eva’s hands. She brought the old, twisted hands up to her face and kissed them. “You saved me. You were the one who took me out of the burning plane. I thought you were an angel all these years.”
“I get that a lot,” said Eva. She caressed Rachel’s face. She remembered the feel of that little face so long ago.
“You put me back in the plane?”
“I had to. I was not the most popular person with the whites, then. I was a radical. Indians went to jail for speaking out back then. I put you back so you could be rescued when the state cops came. I called them. I made sure you were safe in the plane. I also made sure you would be safe from the whites that might come after you, later.”
“What do you mean, ‘come after me later’?”
“They would have to know that your father hid information and documents. They probably figured that someday you would find that information and use it against them. Who do you think has been following you ever since you came here, back before the plague broke out?”
“They tried to run me off the road! How did you know about that?”
“Osborne mentioned it. We put two and two together. I had to help him with the addition,” said Eva. She reached for Rachel’s hand again. “See that scar on your finger? Remember how you got it?”
“In the crash?”
“I cut it.”
“Why?”
“To give you my blood. For later. I thought you might need my immunity one day.”
“Immunity? To what?”
“To
whatever came along. To the corporate bullies who might come after you. I didn’t expect I would ever see you again after that night. I wanted to give you something. The only protection I could think of was my blood. Sounds kind of crazy, maybe, but blood carries the life force. I wanted you to have some of mine.”
“The antibodies. You think I got them from your blood?”
“You are the only person, except me, who had them.”
“Not scientific. We would have to test everyone in the country to be able to say you were the only one with the antibodies to SN2.”
“The scientific mind! Did it cure Sin Nombre? It did not. What cured it was my blood and the kachina. Explain that, Dr. Bisette.”
“I can’t, of course. I don’t think science explains everything.”
Eva held up her hand for silence. Rachel stopped talking. “Don’t turn around. Let’s start back to the Jeep. I’ll walk on this side. Look at those plants over there by the Jeep. Let’s get some of those.”
“Is it the black SUV? “Who are they?” Rachel asked.
“Kerr-McGee, I’m thinking.”
Eva shrugged. Nothing surprised her. “They don’t know we’ve spotted them. They think an old Indian can’t look directly into the sun, so they hide in front of it.”
Rachel and Eva made it to the Jeep and drove away. The black Grand Cherokee followed, but it kept its distance and turned off, long before they arrived at the Medical Science building. That night, Rachel invited Osborne to join Ted and her for dinner.
Chapter Forty-Seven
“That’s a crazy idea, even for you Osborne. That you would think Rachel would go along with it, knowing her life is already in danger, is just … what’s beyond crazy?” Ted fumed.
“Genius,” said Osborne. He refilled his wine glass and offered Ted and Rachel the rest of the bottle. When they declined, he put the bottle to his mouth and emptied it. All eyes in the restaurant were on him, as he wished them to be.
“How did you get my father’s documents about the Church Rock spill?” Rachel asked.
“I did a little research about your father’s digs. And Eva knew a thing or two. I found them. He hid them in an archeological site that was about to be closed….”
“You’re proposing to rebury it?” Ted asked.
“Exactly. It will be an adventure. You’ll learn something, too. Eva and I have located the perfect place.”
“Here’s another option. One that doesn’t involve jeopardizing Rachel’s life. Give Kerr-McGee copies of the documents. Keep the originals as leverage.”
“Spoken like a lawyer, but what’s to keep them from coming after the originals? These guys play rough. They aren’t going to say, ‘OK, thanks for the copies. We see the light. We promise to clean up our contamination.’ Things are different down here. This part of the country has been at war for hundreds of years.”
“What do you propose, kemo sabe?”
“I propose a show of strength. Make copies of the documents. That’s actually a good idea, but burying them is necessary, and we have to do it, tonight.”
“I’m in,” said Rachel. She was feeling invincible, understandably so.
“Rachel doesn’t go anywhere alone with you,” said Ted. He raised his wine glass to Osborne. “I say that with the utmost testosteronal respect. Is that a word?”
Rachel laughed, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
“Do we need weapons?” asked Ted, only half joking.
“Eva and I have taken care of everything. We have to get going. It’s a couple of hours drive from here. Meet me out front in fifteen minutes, or miss the ride of a lifetime.”
“You’re so Indiana Jones that it’s sickening,” said Ted. He pulled Rachel by the arm, and they ran up to their room to change.
Chapter Forty-Eight
The cold desert air sobered up the threesome very quickly. They drove southeast to the Hondo Valley. Osborne arrived at Carrizozo in about three hours. He had not driven fast and watched his mirrors to make sure he was being followed. He stopped for coffee and took his time ordering. He watched as the black Jeep Grand Cherokee drove past the convenience store. He parked the Camry under a light, so the corporate thugs would be sure to see it. Osborne’s seeming carelessness did not escape Ted.
“Why not put a tow bar on your Camry and tow them behind us.”
“Not a bad idea, but I wouldn’t want to put that kind of stress on the engine.”
“One quick question,” said Ted. “Wouldn’t it be easier for us to do this in the daylight?”
“Yes, it would,” said Osborne. He selected the largest donut in the case and put half of it into his mouth.
“Then, why are we here in the dark?”
“You’ll see,” said Osborne. The rest of the donut disappeared. When he went to the counter to pay for his coffee, Osborne winked at the dentally challenged woman working the register. Osborne did not mention the donut, even though he was still chewing it. The woman winked back and put his bills into her blouse instead of the register.
Carrizozo sits at the edge of the Tularosa Basin. Osborne turned off North 54 and headed east toward White Oaks. The first light of dawn was peering over the horizon. He was satisfied with his timing.
Near White Oaks, Osborne parked the Camry. “We walk from here,” he said.
They walked across the valley floor nearly half-a-mile. At the base of the mountain, Osborne set down his equipment and began to dig. He did not set his shovel into the sandy soil too deeply. He was an experienced archeologist. He moved the earth carefully. Ted and Rachel followed his lead. Not far below the surface, they found pegs and strings, the grid markers used by archeologists to plot their dig. This site had been covered with soil.
A quarter of a mile or so beyond the dig, on the opposite side of a small arroyo and in the shadow of the mountain, a black Grand Cherokee was parked. They chose the spot because the sun rising from behind the mountain would keep them hidden until nearly noon. Osborne’s Camry was parked well back from the arroyo. He and his party were clearly visible.
When Osborne was satisfied with the hole they dug, he walked all the way back to the Camry to get a metal box from under the driver’s seat. Ted and Rachel wondered why he had not brought it with the other equipment.
“He’s totally playing these guys in the SUV, and I don’t like it,” said Ted. “His little macho games are going to get us killed.”
“He knows what he’s doing,” said Rachel.
“And, you know that how?” asked Ted.
“I can just feel it. Besides, if Eva was involved in this plan, I have total confidence in it.”
Ted had to admit his admiration for Eva Yellow Horn. She had a wisdom that he expected from more quiet, contemplative types. He was not about to question her, though. His beloved Rachel was alive, thanks in part to the old Indian. He was enough of a pragmatist not to question when something went right.
Osborne returned with the metal box, and they buried it, carefully. As they covered the hole with dirt, the ground beneath them began to move slightly. In the distance, they heard thunder.
“Is it going to rain?” Rachel asked.
“It’s been raining up in the valley for some time now. That’s not thunder, you hear. Time to get back to the car, and I advise that we hurry,” said Osborne.
The group walked briskly back to the Camry. Ted started to ask Osborne why he parked so far away from the dig. Just as he started to speak, a roar hit the canyon behind them, and his words were lost. They turned around and saw a torrent of water rushing down the valley, filling the arroyo. The water kept coming. The arroyo widened and deepened. The Grand Cherokee on the other side of it was trapped.
Osborne started to run. Rachel and Ted broke into a sprint. The water filled the canyon, although it did not reach the dig. The natives who chose this site centuries ago
knew about the flash floods that came from time to time. The community that lived here chose a well-protected site. Rachel looked over her shoulder as Ted pulled her along. She saw the SUV caught in the current of the rising water. The windows were rolled down, and Rachel could see the faces of a man and a woman. They looked small and ordinary; their mouths open in screams that the sound of the water devoured.
Inside Osborne’s car, the windows fogged from their hard breathing. Ted reached up and wiped the fog with his sleeve. The SUV was well down the valley, on its side. Rachel hid her face in Ted’s chest.
“Yeah, people don’t think about floods in the desert, but they do come, and if you don’t know your way around these parts, you can get swept away.”
“Eva told you this would happen and when, didn’t she?” Rachel asked.
They watched the SUV, now capsized, disappear.
The rushing water went down as quickly as it came up. The sand absorbed what remained, and the hills were quiet again.
Even the worst pandemic eventually burns itself out. Eventually, all the people who cannot resist the virus are dead, and the survivors carry antibodies against the virus forever.
The quiet canyons keep their secrets. The ancient rocks are patient. The people come and go like the winds.
The Authors
Marcia Calhoun Forecki grew up in Kansas City, Missouri. Her first book, Speak To Me, was published by Gallaudet University Press and won a book award from the President’s Committee on Employment of the Handicapped in 1986. It has been used in deaf education classrooms for many years.
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