Ashes of the Red Heifer

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Ashes of the Red Heifer Page 9

by Shannon Baker


  How far back had the Corporation been pulling strings? Did they have some part in prompting David to hire her? Did they have a mole in PharmCo who’d shifted her application to the top of the pile?

  “No, Dr. Grant. It is not a coincidence,” the CEO said. “To have the descendents of Dama ben Natina blessed for all time to be raising the one breed of cattle, with the perfect bloodlines necessary for our return to God, no, this is not a coincidence.”

  His words made her feel as if they shoved that knife between her shoulder blades. The CEO didn’t wait for Annie’s reaction. “Dr. Grant, you will acquire the cattle and conclude your research. When that is achieved, you will be free to go.”

  “And Hassan?”

  “Yes, yes of course,” he said dismissively. “He will be freed, also.”

  She didn’t believe him. But as long as Hassan was alive, there might be a chance to escape. She swallowed, trying not to let her knees buckle. “I don’t have much choice, do I?”

  Voice wavering slightly, as if he was nothing but a tired old man, the CEO said, “If you try to escape or fail in any way, not only will we find you, but those you love will suffer. I promise you that. Death is not the worst that can happen to a person.”

  Though spoken lightly, Annie knew these weren’t idle threats. She tossed her head, determined not to break down. “Nice guys. Bet your mothers are real proud.”

  The CEO went on. “Your job is simple. You will complete your research for the cure, go to your father’s ranch and vaccinate the cows, bring them back here and deliver the perfect Red Heifer for Israel’s redemption.”

  David’s voice reached out to her. “Annie, I’m sorry.”

  She felt for his hand. “Sorry for what? For being Jewish?”

  Alanberg took hold of her elbow and pulled her to her feet, guiding her toward the door. She jerked her arm from his grasp and held her hands in front of her, taking a few faltering steps before locating the door and then the knob. Black emotions boiled inside her. How was she going to get them out of this? How would she save Hassan?

  Annie opened the door and felt her way into the hall. David and Alanberg walked beside her. She slammed the door behind her, surprised at the small flash of pleasure the violent movement provided.

  ELEVEN

  It was impossible to tell how long Annie and David rode in the backseat of the car, masks on their heads. Maybe two hours. Long enough for thousands of thoughts, worries, plans, and panic to swirl, crash, and fade, leaving Annie with a stomach so full of acid she thought she might spontaneously combust. Considering her plight, that would be a happy ending.

  She sat upright and rigid, feeling as though she hadn’t moved for days. She’d seen the sin of Gomorra in flames and had turned into a pillar of salt. Except the sin wasn’t debauchery but arrogant self-righteousness, and she wasn’t really salt because she still felt pain, the pain of betraying her loyal friend and putting him in terrible danger

  David had tried to talk to her several times. He wanted to comfort her, she knew, but she didn’t want the drivers to hear anything they said to each other.

  It was deep night by the time the Corporate goons—not officers or board directors but hourly grunts—pulled them from the car, shoved them through a door and left, the tick of a padlock sounding before their footsteps faded.

  Annie pulled off her ski mask, brushed her sweaty hair from her face and looked around. They were in some kind of rickety shack with walls of uninsulated weathered board. In the small crevices between the boards, the outside darkness looked dull, punctuated by stars in the night sky. The floor consisted of the same naked boards, dusty and worn. The room, a twelve-foot square, contained two army cots with wool blankets, a rickety wooden table and one plastic lawn chair.

  “Charming,” Annie said. “I love what they’ve done with the place.”

  David’s short hair stood straight up on his head, moussed with sweat and styled by the mask. “The bellboy has already brought the bags.” He pointed to her duffle and his leather bag tossed into the corner.

  Annie stomped across the wood floor, her boots like rifle shots. She unzipped the duffle and rummaged for a sweatshirt. The desert night had turned cold. “Looks like airport security has been checking through my bags again.”

  Pulling the sweatshirt over her head she walked to the door and tried the latch. The door gave a little but was padlocked on the outside.

  “Did you think it might be open?” David said.

  She shrugged. “I hate to overlook the obvious.”

  David found a v-neck cotton sweater in his bag and put it on. He stepped close to a crack between boards and peered out. “Good thing the moon is bright or we wouldn’t be able to see anything. Although there is nothing out there.”

  Annie paced the small space. “I wonder where our guards went? This shack looks fragile enough we could probably tear it apart with our hands.”

  “I wouldn’t doubt your ability,” David said.

  The crumbling started deep inside her, like a building imploding. Gentle, timid, loyal Hassan, a bundle of blood and pulp, at the mercy of crazy crusaders. She and David, whisked off to the desert in the middle of the night to use their science to promote some mystical pony show that would only bring destruction to the world.

  No way out.

  With her face to a corner, Annie wrapped her arms around her shoulders, trying in vain to hold herself together. Her trembling became a violent earthquake. Think. Be strong. What would her father do now? Don’t fall apart.

  And then David’s arms came around her. Warm and supporting.

  She buried her face in his chest, clinging to him when the volcano erupted inside her. Great sobs ransacked her and her knees buckled.

  David held her up, gently rocking. “Shh. It’s going to be all right.”

  It wouldn’t be all right, but she let him lie to her as she struggled for control. The outburst only lasted a couple of minutes and she pulled away from David, wiping her eyes. Her voice sounded low and shaky. “That’s productive, huh?”

  David took her hand and led her to one of the cots. He sat down with his back to the wall and pulled her gently to him. “You’re scared.”

  She rested her head on his chest and felt his heart pumping. “Danged right I’m scared. But crying like a two-year old isn’t going to help.”

  His vice was deep and slow. “You are human. People cry.”

  She tried to sit up but he held her firm. “I don’t cry. I fix things. I make them work,” she said.

  David’s fingers massaged her scalp softly. “Okay. Fix them tomorrow. Right now you’ve got to sleep.”

  When was the last time she’d slept? Not the night before Esther’s calf was born. That night she’d stared at the ceiling thinking of David and the vaccine. And after that came the bomb and the bus ride, Hassan in the hospital, the Dome….

  Despite herself her muscles started to relax. She jerked awake. “I can’t sleep. I’ve got to figure out how to help Hassan.”

  David whispered into her hair. “Shh. I’ll be right here with you. Sleep now.”

  His arms felt safe, his heartbeat and breathing alive and warm. This was the only thing that had felt good since…she couldn’t remember.

  * * * *

  Annie woke with a start, gray light filtering in the cracks in the walls. David’s arms rested heavily around her and her head rose with his deep breathing. She sat up.

  He opened his eyes, confusion clearing slowly. “Morning already, huh?”

  Her neck and shoulders felt like slabs of cold rubber. And still, they felt better than her head, which pounded with every heartbeat. Her sour stomach hadn’t settled. She ran a hand through her hair, the loose strands feeling stiff with dried sweat.

  Annie walked to the door and pounded on it. “Hey! Assholes! Get us out of here. I’ve got work to do.” She put her eye to a slit and tried to see any life outside.

  David stood and stretched. “What do you have planned?”r />
  Still with her eye to the door she shrugged. “They want me to make their vaccine so I’ll start there. I’ve got to find Hassan before I can figure out an escape plan.”

  Approaching footsteps crunched on the sand before a hand and fatigue-clad arm reach for the lock on the door.

  She stepped behind the door to allow it to open. When it did and the guard walked in she shoved against the door with all her strength, knocking the guard backward and making him lose his balance. She dashed out the door. “Come on!”

  She sprinted away from the shack, frantically searching for a direction. It didn’t matter. Before she’d taken ten strides a solid force slammed into her and she hit the sand, a heavy body smashed on top of her, knocking the air from her lungs.

  The man rolled off her, stood and pulled her arms behind her back, jerking her to her feet. She knew his face. He was the leader from the bus hijacking, the one who took such pleasure in beating Hassan. “That was not a smart move,” he said in heavily accented English.

  She leaned over trying to get her breath, her arms still pulled uncomfortably behind her back. “A girl’s got to try.”

  This was the first chance she had to look around. They were in a deep canyon that looked like a dry creek bed. Besides the shack where she and David had spent the night the settlement consisted of several olive green army tents, another shack about the same size as theirs and an outhouse.

  The guard pulled her upright and shoved her across the sand toward a cliff of solid rock.

  As she was about to be marched into a sheer rock cliff the guard stopped short and pulled a ring of keys from his pocket. He flipped a rock on the cliff in front of her that swung open to reveal a door lock. He inserted the key, turned it and pulled on another rock positioned as a handle. A jagged outline of a door camouflaged with rock and dirt opened in front of her.

  Without a speaking, her guard pushed her inside. She stumbled into a space of amazing brightness. Overhead lights buzzed, illuminating a surprising sight.

  The outside door opened directly into a barn area that contained portable panels set up to make two small pens. One headstall was bolted into the concrete floor. A lab area, situated toward the back, was not much bigger than a galley kitchen in a small apartment. It was lined with counters and contained two office chairs on wheels. The electronic equipment lined a work area separated from the barn by a wall with the top portion glass. It was as well supplied as their lab at Shalom-Hagolan. The whole place looked so much like the previous one she couldn’t help remembering the shattered glass and destruction at the kibbutz.

  Although not a large area, it had been hewn from the hill. Drywall was sloppily put up, not for aesthetic affect but to keep dirt from falling into the lab. It was chilly and smelled of damp earth, as one would expect from a cave, even a well lit, clean one. David didn’t speak, simply stood beside her.

  She wrenched her arms free from her captor and folded them on her chest, fighting the itch to get back to work. Almost against her will she thought about the protein levels of the vaccine and the optimum stage of gestation to inject the pregnant cows. She felt with some certainty that if injected even a week or less before birth, a previously uninfected cow would gain immunity and pass it on to the calf. Then a booster to the cow would ensure the calf was protected through colostrum. If that worked, they could try taking cows already infected before getting pregnant and figure out the best course to help them produce healthy, viable calves.

  Damn. She was doing exactly what The Corporation wanted. How could she work for them? How could she not? She had to do everything she could to help Hassan, although she couldn’t believe that even if she were successful, they’d ever let him go. Her situation was impossible.

  The door to the outside opened and clanged shut and she wasn’t surprised to hear the annoying voice of Alanberg. “I trust you’ll find everything you need. If not, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  The disgust she felt for this man made it difficult to look at him. Instead, she walked through the open door into the lab to survey the equipment. The dark blue sample case sat on one end of the counter, next to a small refrigerator. Again, no surprise.

  Alanberg followed her, his black dress shoes slapping the concrete. “The computer has the download from your last experiment. I went to great pains to make sure your lab is set up as close to the lab at the kibbutz as is possible.”

  She narrowed her eyes and tried to convey her contempt. “You’re thoughtful and considerate as always. Did you send condolences to Sophie?”

  He took a step backward as if she’d socked him in his paunch. His voice took a hard edge. “This is Adi.” He pointed to the guard from the bus. “And this is Moshe,” he indicated David’s guard. “They will be your companions while you’re here. If you need anything, you have simply to ask them.” He turned and left, his steps like rapid fire.

  Annie studied Adi, letting her eyes travel from his head to his feet then back to make eye contact. He had a receding hairline, nearly shaved head, and deep frown lines. He held her gaze and she knew he would hurt or kill her if she caused him trouble.

  Moshe was an inch or two shorter than Annie and probably in his mid-twenties. With dark skin, wavy hair and deep brown eyes he didn’t give off the same wave of danger as Adi but probably followed orders well.

  She turned to the equipment, pressed the computer on and took a deep breath trying to make herself believe this was just another day at the lab. When she opened the refrigerator she saw all the samples and slides inside. Might as well start with the calf’s liver.

  David walked over to her. “What do you plan to do?”

  “Do a tissue analysis.” While going back to work was the only thing she could do to help Hassan, she felt guilty at the relief it gave her.

  “Put a vial of that blood in the centrifuge,” she said to David, retreating to what she knew best. Her mind flitted from the issues of the vaccine to wondering where they kept Hassan. If she could find him she could make a plan to escape.

  They worked for several hours, analyzing printouts, searching for clues or assurance that her assumptions were correct. Adi and Moshe sat in folding chairs by the front door. At first, Moshe started several conversations but Adi ignored him. Eventually he stopped trying and they sat, not speaking, not dozing, watching David and Annie with the concentration of black labs.

  Adi got up and strutted toward the lab. “It is time for your meal. Please come now.”

  Annie waved him away. “I’m not hungry.”

  Adi grabbed her arm. “You will come now.”

  “Well, if you insist.” She pulled her arm free and put her printout on the counter. “David, would you care for a bite to eat?”

  David stretched. “I could use a snack, I guess. Nothing too rich, though, I’m trying to lose a few pounds.”

  Annie looked at Adi and affected an upper-crust accent. “Where can we get something light. But kosher. You do know David is Jewish?”

  Adi grunted and pointed the way with his gun. She preceded David and Adi out of the lab to the front door Moshe opened into the desert heat. As Annie passed by Moshe, Adi said something and Moshe turned from her to look at him.

  She didn’t hesitate and took off at a full run down the valley. She hoped David followed but even if he didn’t, she had a chance to escape and get help.

  When Moshe tackled her after less than 50 feet she wasn’t all that surprised. But she was disappointed. A friendly laugh came from the man. “You cannot run in cowboy boots. They are for horses.” He pulled Annie to her feet and she watched Adi drag David toward her.

  Adi’s face took on angry red heat and his eyes seemed to get three sizes bigger. He shoved David toward Moshe, keeping his eyes trained on Annie.

  Suspecting what was coming from experience with angry men in authority, Annie clenched her teeth so she was ready when his fist slammed into her already bruised cheekbone. Annie stumbled backward and fell on her butt. She kept her teeth clamp
ed against the scream that wanted to escape, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

  But Adi wasn’t done. He caught her shirtfront in his fist and hauled her to her feet, pulling back his other hand.

  Before he could land the punch David flew into Adi’s belly, knocking him into the sand. Moshe ran behind David and used the butt of his gun to bash David in the back of the head. With a grunt, David collapsed on the sand.

  Annie screamed then, unable to hold back. “David!” She scrambled to him, relieved to hear him groan.

  Adi was on his feet rushing toward them. Annie pictured the horrible scene outside the bus and shielded David with her body. She wouldn’t let Adi do to him what he’d done to Hassan. Better she take the blows herself.

  But Adi pulled her from David, almost effortlessly and flung her to the sand. “You do not learn quickly. I will use chains if I must.”

  She glared at him and felt her blood turn to ice when he smiled slowly. “Or perhaps I will take your punishment out on this man.” He indicated David, who moved his head from side to side as if willing himself to wake up. “See what your foolishness has already cost him?”

  Adi was right. She’d gained nothing from running except another bruise for herself and more pain for David. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She’d have to think of something else. To stay here would mean death for Hassan, David or herself.

  Strong fingers closed around her upper arm and Moshe heaved her to stand. He pointed her toward her shed.

  She turned to see David but he lay on the desert floor with Adi standing over him. “Wait! What are you going to do with him? Don’t hurt him! Please!”

  Moshe escorted her inside her shed and before leaving shook his head. “Why do you want to make Adi grouchy. He’s already mean enough.” He walked out and snapped the padlock closed while she peered through a crack.

  Adi pulled David to his feet and marched him off in another direction.

  Acid swirled in a mixture of fear and guilt in Annie’s stomach. She’d caused this, whatever it was they were doing to David. Like Avrel dying and Hassan’s capture, it was her fault.

 

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