Ashes of the Red Heifer

by Shannon Baker

  “Except you.”

  She shot him a quick look to gauge his opinion of her work ethic. He didn’t seem irritated by her focus and what some would call obsessive drive. She hadn’t dated much but it seemed a relationship would no more get started and the pressure would be on for her to spend less time working. But David shared her devotion to the project and the closer they came to finding the cure, the closer she felt to him. What would it be like, she wondered not for the first time, to feel his arms around her?

  Now he stood in front of her, arms folded in stubbornness.

  She was drawn back to the devastated barn and the draining hourglass. “Please, David.”

  He locked eyes with her, the blue of his deepening like a night sky. Finally, he gave her that half smile. “You’re possessed.”

  She let out a breath. “You’ve no idea.”

  * * * *

  The afternoon sun blazed through the fallen barn roof.

  Annie glanced up from where she knelt beside the dead calf. Deadlines pulsed in each heartbeat. What would she need to finish the research? Did she draw enough blood? She’d had to scrounge up a rope and tie Esther to what was left of a fence rail. Esther hadn’t been happy about it but Annie had her blood samples. She had half dozen vials of the calf’s blood and several tissue samples but she hated leaving without more tissue in case she needed to do another analysis. She inserted a sterile syringe and drew more blood.

  Someone came into the barn and she refused to look up.

  David’s voice cut through the wreckage. He and Hassan made their way to Annie. “The buses are here. It’s time to go.”

  He might as well shove her face under a cold lake. “Can’t you talk Alanberg into letting us stay?”

  David shook his head. “Annie, it’s not safe.”

  “There’s always conflict in Israel,” she said.

  Hassan moved from one foot to another. “Some times it’s worse than others. Right now, it’s pretty bad.”

  David reached down and covered her hands with his own. He gently moved her hand over to the dark blue cooler she’d already prepared and settled the vial of blood into the padding. He pulled her to her feet. “There’s been talk of compromise and every time the leaders get close, violence escalates.”

  Annie reached for an empty vial.

  David’s voice was firm. “Now. Annie, we have to go.”

  “Something doesn’t track here,” she said. “Israelis don’t fold up because of an attack. Why would the leaders of this kibbutz capitulate so completely?”

  Hassan shrugged his shoulders and helped Annie to her feet.

  “Whatever Alanberg’s reasons, we aren’t going to change his mind,” David said.

  Why did the anger and hatred of this so-called Holy Land have to stand in her way? She stepped back from David, trying to kneel down again. “Just another sample.”

  Hassan closed the cooler. “It’s time to go.”

  Alanberg’s high-pitched whine sent irritation buzzing in Annie’s brain. “The buses are waiting. You must leave now.”

  She spun around and glared at him.

  He ignored her and addressed David. “The Silim is claiming responsibility for the bombing.”

  Hassan drew in a sharp breath. He turned pale.

  Alanberg waved his arms in a hurry-up gesture. “Don’t delay. We are ready.” He scurried off.

  “Who is the Silim?” Annie asked.

  David waited and when Hassan didn’t answer he said, “An Islamic terrorist group. It’s been linked to suicide bombings in Jerusalem.”

  Hassan stopped his fluttering and his voice was lower and slower than normal. “They aren’t terrorists. The Silim has never intentionally killed anyone. The very name, Silim, says peace. I don’t believe the Silim is behind this filth.”

  Hassan spread his legs and pulled back his shoulders, facing David as if in challenge.

  Annie quietly knelt by the calf and sliced a tiny section of liver. Let them have their pissing match; it gave her more time with the calf.

  “The government wouldn’t release a claim if they didn’t feel it was founded. I think we have no choice but to believe the Silim is behind this,” David said in his reasonable voice.

  Hassan shook his head, his curls bobbing. “The Silim’s mission is to protect the Dome of the Rock. This kibbutz is too far away from Jerusalem for the Silim to be here.”

  “I haven’t seen a lot of proof that Islamic extremists care where they hit,” David said.

  Annie tried not to hear. She hated these stand offs between the Jewish David and the Muslim Hassan. Most of the time they respected a cease fire of religious diatribe. But sometimes the tension surfaced. If they kept at it, though, it might give her time to gather more tissue samples.

  Annie picked up the scalpel. “Why do the Muslims need to defend the Dome of the Rock?”

  Hassan broke his stare with David and addressed Annie. “Because Jews don’t acknowledge Islam’s claim.”

  “It is Judiasm’s holiest site and doesn’t belong to Islam,” David said.

  “Allah, bless his holiness, has seen fit to give it to us and Muslims are duty bound to protect it with our lives. To die defending the Dome of the Rock is one of the greatest honors in all Islam.”

  “Allah didn’t give it to you,” David said. “Moshe Dyan handed it over. That’s something some Jews will never forgive.”

  “Say what you will, it is ours.”

  David nodded. “For now. But the Temple Mount will return to the Jews someday.”

  Annie only half listened. “What does the Temple Mount have to do with the Dome of the Rock?”

  David’s eyes narrowed. “The Muslim’s built the Dome on the Temple Mount, trying to cover up evidence of previous Temples.”

  “The Jews never had a temple on that site. Let alone two, as they claim,” Hassan said.

  David’s mouth hardened. “That is Muslim propaganda.”

  Annie pressed a cover on a slide and realized the conversation had come to an impasse. She wanted to get another slide of the calf’s heart. “Why is the Temple Mount so important to Jews?” She felt guilty about baiting them to give her more time. But the guilt was nothing compared to the irritation she felt having to stomach the religious malarkey they spewed at each other. Her experience taught her where God was concerned the only result was irrationality and anger.

  David answered, keeping his eyes on Hassan. “A Jew yearns for the Temple. Three times a day we pray, ‘May the Temple be built speedily and in our time.’ Three times. Every day. We have six hundred thirteen Commandments and fully a third relate to Temple worship. The Temple is where God lives. And the Muslims don’t care about the sacred ground, except to keep us away.”

  “That’s not true,” Hassan said. “It has always been important to Islam.”

  “Jerusalem isn’t mentioned in the Koran.”

  Hassan let out an exhale. “The Jewish faithful aren’t even allowed on the Dome of the Rock by their own rabbis.”

  “You!” The shout and sudden movement toward the front of the barn made them turn.

  Natan, another cook on the kibbutz stumbled through the clutter, eyes burning into Hassan. His thick accent didn’t mask his words or his hatred. “It is your fault!”

  Annie stood up. Hassan took a few steps backward.

  Natan rushed toward him, his face twisted with rage. “You killed Avrel. You cursed pig!”

  Hassan held up his hand. “I didn’t…”

  Natan barreled through the wreckage, his intent to harm Hassan clear. Hassan stood paralyzed, starring at him.

  With a sudden move David stepped in front of Natan and put his hand on Natan’s chest. “Hassan didn’t do anything. The bomb fell on him, too.”

  With effort Natan pulled his gaze from Hassan and focused on David. He spoke rapid Hebrew.

  David answered in the same language. Natan returned his murderous look on Hassan. With one last seething burst of vitriol, Natan stalke
d away.

  “What did you say?” Annie asked.

  David shrugged.

  Hassan’s pale face gained a bit more color. “Thanks, David.”

  David put his arm around Hassan’s shoulders. “It’s okay for now, buddy. But I’d stay out of his way for the rest of your life.”

  FOUR

  Dusk brought lengthening shadows across the ancient desert as the bus rolled toward Jerusalem. The rumble of tires on the rough road drowned the occasional hushed voices of the people riding. Many slept, their bodies propped against each other.

  Annie and David sat midway through the old school bus and Hassan sat in front of them. No one sat next to Hassan even though the bus was crowded. The others seemed to avoid contact, all except Natan, who cast hate-filled glances at Hassan.

  Annie leaned forward, peering over Hassan’s shoulder. David slouched down, dozing with his head tipped back.

  Hassan’s laptop lay open on his knees. His fingers clicked numbers impossibly fast. “The protein levels seem to indicate the calf had developed an immunity of sorts.” He said barely audible above the noise of the bus. “I’d like to do some more analysis on the tissue itself.”

  Annie sighed. She kept her voice as low as his. “I have the samples in the cooler. As soon as we can get to a lab we’ll do the analysis. In the meantime, let’s put in some variables and see what results we get.”

  Hassan rubbed his eyes. “Can we do this tomorrow? I’ve got a headache.”

  He looked done in and Annie knew if he was half as tired as she was he could use a break. “I’ll mess with it in a while. You try to sleep.”

  He looked at her and yawned. “What variables do you want to change?”

  “It’s okay.” She reached for the computer. “I’m not tired,” she lied. She had to be careful what she asked of Hassan because no matter how it might inconvenience him, he did his utmost to please her. He was so much a part of her she couldn’t imagine life without him. But Hassan needed to find someone to love. He needed to be devoted to himself, his career and life, not to her. Annie wanted to find a love, too, someone to have a family with. Maybe that man was David.

  “What is the point?” He spoke with sympathy. “We are scheduled to be on a plane back to the States tomorrow night. We don’t have a lab here to work. We can’t take tissue out of the country. We’re done.”

  She clenched her teeth. “We’re not done.”

  “What are you going to do? Break into one of the other research labs in the south and use their equipment?”

  She shushed him. “Here’s my plan. First thing tomorrow morning we’re going to see the Ag Minister. We’ll take him our research, explain how close we are, show him the LPS epitopes levels and that Esther’s calf was alive. He won’t have any choice but to let me vaccinate pregnant cows, bring them into Israel and calf them out. The formula works.”

  Hassan reached for the computer. “No one is going to let you bring in cows. No one is going to allow you to stay after the bombing. I know how important this is to you but you have to be realistic.”

  “You can give up but I’m not going to. There has to be a way.” What if she and her father had given up during that late spring blizzard? But Annie and her father had fought the winds and the snow, sorted the pregnant cows and brought in the heavies. They’d stayed up for three nights, calving and warming calves in the bathtub. In the end, their neighbors’ calf crops had been decimated but Annie and her father hadn’t lost one.

  Annie looked away, directly into the burning eyes of Natan. That was enough to get her blood boiling. How dare he blame Hassan?

  “That’s weird,” Hassan said.

  “What?”

  He scowled at the screen. “When I saved the file and closed it, there was an error message I don’t understand.”

  Hassan and his computers. He spoke of them as if they were his children. If one hiccoughed he’d fret for days. He was as much a perfectionist with his programs as she was in her work.

  He rebooted, his eyebrows drawn together in concern. “I can’t image what that would mean.” He leaned forward, drawing her closer so she could hear him. “I think someone has been in my computer.”

  She sat back and gave him a skeptical look. “Okay, Mr. Paranoid. Who would that be?”

  “Shh. This is serious. Someone has been looking at our data.”

  A surge of worry shot through her. “But the latest data wasn’t in your computer until now. The analysis from Esther’s calf is new.”

  He nodded. “But the formula we used was in the computer.”

  She struggled to remain rational. “But no one had access to your computer. You’ve got it with you all the time, don’t you?”

  He shook his head. “Not this morning. I went to check Esther and she was calving so I never got it.”

  “This could ruin everything!” He looked so hurt Annie wanted to apologize to him. “It’s okay. I didn’t put the latest changes into the computer yet.”

  Now it was his turn to look dismayed. “Where did you leave your notes?”

  Fire flashed inside her, igniting panic. “They were in the lab.” She regretted the promise she’d made to Hassan to curb her cursing. This event called for major amounts of every vile curse word she could drum up. “The notes are lost.”

  Hassan shushed her. “Don’t panic. I think I remember what levels we changed. We can recreate it.”

  She looked away, saw the angry eyes of Natan still trained on them and turned back to Hassan. “We might have lost our chance to cure BA 23.”

  He shook his head. “I think I remember the changes.”

  “What…”

  Annie jerked forward as the driver slammed on the brakes. People screamed and shouted. The bus ground to a stop.

  David was on his feet immediately. “Annie, are you okay?”

  She had hold of Hassan’s shoulders. He had been bent over his computer when the bus braked and his face slammed into the seat. His nose was bleeding and the computer had slipped to the floor. “I’m fine,” she said. “But Hassan…”

  The panic of the passengers created an incredible din. People choked the aisles trying to get out by the back or front of the old bus.

  Gunshots.

  She flung herself over the seat and shoved Hassan down.

  Screams and everyone diving under the seats. Annie’s heart and breath stopped then slammed to life. She looked up. Two men in ski masks and camouflage fatigues wielded enormous black automatic guns. They shouted in Hebrew.

  She heard a bang from behind and turned to see the back door open and two more men pull themselves into the bus. Through the flash of fear surging into her veins, she tried to think of escape.

  Hassan choked and Annie turned to see blood gushing from his nose. She tugged her sweatshirt over her head, wadded a sleeve and shoved it under Hassan’s sizable nose.

  He grunted and took it, freeing her hand.

  One of the men at the front of the bus spoke harshly to the driver who put the bus in gear and started down the road.

  The man in front, the leader, yelled in Hebrew and everyone quieted, terror filling their eyes.

  David lowered himself to the seat, his eyes on the gunman in front. “Annie, are you okay?”

  Annie leaned over Hassan. Bombs, guns, death crowding around her. She didn’t have words to describe the fear rushing through her. “Peachy.”

  Most people climbed off the floor and crouched in their seats. No one spoke for several minutes until the gunman in front nudged the driver with the barrel of his gun and indicated they pull off on a dirt road.

  Annie heard whispered alarm from a few people. The pit in her own stomach felt like lead. Traveling on a deserted road wasn’t a good sign.

  After they had wound down a one-lane dirt road and stopped in a small valley, surrounded by sun-baked hills on every side, the leader ordered the driver to stop.

  The other goon in the front, a blue-eyed young man, shouted. His voice sounded li
ke a warning siren. Shaken up, some sobbing, some hanging on to children or spouses, people began to rise.

  Join the queue to be gunned down on the desert or stay in the bus to be shot like a fish in a barrel. The choices brought new meaning to rock and a hard place.

  The leader took hold of the bus driver’s shirt and jerked him down the stairs and outside. Blue Eyes waved his gun and shouted and people shuffled slowly down the aisle.

  Annie wiped her hands on the thighs of her jeans, streaking them with Hassan’s blood. How was she acting so calm when she felt like screaming and bolting? She looked at David. “Who are they?”

  He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the leader. “I don’t know. We’d better get off, though.”

  Annie helped Hassan to his feet and into the aisle. They followed David down the stairs and stepped onto the sand of the darkening desert.

  “What do they want?” Annie whispered to David. Her voice didn’t sound shaky. Amazing she could even breath with her heart’s pounding using all her energy.

  One of the guards from the back, a man with a length of curling black hair, waved his gun. He shouted, leaving Annie no doubt she was to stop talking to David.

  The leader stepped before the passengers who had formed a sort of line. He looked at them all, eyes menacing behind his black mask. The other three goons raised their guns at the passengers.

  The leader grabbed the top of his ski mask and pulled it off with a rush of impatience. His head was nearly shaved, giving his eyes an exaggerated size. His mouth was wide and cruel. In halting and accented English he started. “We do not want to hurt the good people of Israel—the faithful and true sons of Zion who have made their lives on this northern kibbutz, so close to the danger zones.”

  He moved down the line, his gun casually resting in his arms. “However, we know you are harboring enemies of Israel. We know for most of you this was not your choice.”

  Annie’s stomach roiled. Not everyone on the kibbutz was a practicing Jew. But Hassan was the only Muslim there.

  The last gunman—the eldest of the group—stepped from the bus and shouted. The leader turned to him and a grin spread across his face. Old Guy held up Hassan’s computer with triumph. He tossed it into the sand and raised his gun.