A vicious slap rocked her head back.
“Don’t lie to me, you little bitch! Dig!”
Ana began digging at random, not even trying to avoid Vanessa’s continuing blows.
Finn felt Kestrel stiffen. “Is this the right place?” he whispered, holding Kestrel back. “The
world looks different at night.”
“That branch. The big sage. The number of steps. Yes.”
“The wind,” Finn whispered.
Ana’s fingernails scraped across the metal rim of the bucket. She dug frantically, throwing sand
and rocks into the wind. Finally she yanked the bucket free and dumped out its contents. The
smaller piece of uranium thumped to the ground. The scarlet foil looked black in the wan light.
“Is that all of it?” asked Vanessa, sighting down the bulbous silencer to the base of Ana’s skull.
Pleasure rippled in Vanessa’s voice. The delight she took in the kill was the first weakness Finn
had seen in her. He gathered himself to leap forward the instant Vanessa’s pleasure distracted
her.
Silk tightened around his knee, reminding him that he could not move without Kestrel’s
cooperation. The gun settled lower, almost caressing the nape of Ana’s neck. His fist clenched
around a handful of sand, Finn inched forward. When Vanessa pulled the trigger, he wanted to
be close enough to crush her neck with the edge of his hand. At the very least, he had to be close
enough to hurl sand into her eyes.
“There’s another piece of uranium,” said Kestrel. “Tell her, Ana!”
“There’s another bucket over there,” Ana told Vanessa, oblivious to death poised behind her.
The gun retreated. “Get it.”
Ana hurried to the next clump of sagebrush.
Kestrel had listened to Vanessa, and watched. He knew she would begin killing the instant the
second piece of uranium was uncovered. He shifted his stance, preparing for a desperate leap at
Vanessa, knowing she was too far away to reach.
“Do you have it?” Vanessa called to Ana.
“No.”
“Dig faster!”
Finn eased forward while Vanessa’s attention was on Ana. Kestrel seemed to anticipate the
movement, and cooperate. Finn wondered if Kestrel’s plan was the same as his own: kill
Vanessa and then kill the enemy tied to him.
“I’ve found it!”
Finn started to launch himself at Vanessa, but she turned too quickly.
“Stand still or die right now,” Vanessa ordered. The pistol pointed directly at Finn’s heart. He
and Kestrel stood very quietly, closer to Vanessa than they had been, but not close enough.
“Bring it here,” Vanessa said without looking away from the men.
Ana yanked the bucket out of its shallow hole. Sand, pebbles and the foil-wrapped uranium
spilled out as she upended the bucket at Vanessa’s feet. She looked down, not trusting Ana. The
instant Vanessa’s attention moved, the men crept forward a few more inches. They were less
than eight feet from the women.
Finn felt the sudden tension in Kestrel’s body as the large piece of uranium thumped down close
to its deadly mate. He remembered the accident at the Los Alamos lab, and sweat covered his
body despite the cold wind. Kestrel stared, looking for a faint blush of blue light.
Vanessa glanced at the two foil-wrapped parcels, irregular and lumpy. She smiled and brought
the muzzle to bear on the back of Ana’s neck as Ana bent over the uranium.
“Don’t be so eager,” said Finn. “Or do you plan on handling the uranium by yourself?” His
voice was directed to Vanessa; his free hand was clamped on Kestrel’s wrist to hold him back.
“What are you talking about?” said Vanessa. She switched her pistol to her left hand and pointed
it at the men.
Finn took a half-step forward and laughed. “You don’t know much about uranium, do you?”
“No closer!”
Finn stood still. The muzzle of the pistol was trained on his heart. For a moment there was no
sound but the wind. Vanessa watched him unblinkingly. She knew that uranium could be deadly,
.but she had no idea of its threshold of danger. Nor could she trust Finn to tell the truth. All she
could do was watch his reactions as Ana handled the metal.
“Unwrap it,” she ordered, prodding Ana with her foot.
“No,” whispered Kestrel.
Vanessa did not hear. Nor did Ana. Finn did. He felt Kestrel tense and knew that something was
going to happen with the uranium – what was it General Groves had said? Light, some heat and
a lot of radiation if the two pieces were brought together. Was that what Kestrel was waiting for,
a flash of light that would startle Vanessa? He felt Kestrel’s sweat where their legs were bound
together.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said, as though talking to Vanessa.
“Shut up!” – Ana took the smaller parcel and began to unwrap it. The soft foil, battered by
rough handling, fell away in pieces beneath her fingers. The uranium she uncovered had a
nacreous shine in the moonlight. She reached for the second piece.
Finn and Kestrel stood as one man, poised, waiting for an opening. They watched each layer fall
away from the larger piece of uranium. As Ana worked off the last layer, the heavy rounded
metal slipped from her hands. It fell on top of its mate with a metallic clang. It did not roll away.
Blue light leaped from the union, a primal flash of energy that was as deadly as it was
unexpected.
“What?” Instinctively Vanessa raised her hand to shield herself from the uncanny blue light.
Finn and Kestrel leaped for her. Finn’s handful of sand scoured across Vanessa’s face, ruining
her aim as she brought her gun up. The shot passed over their heads. Before she could fire again,
the two men were on her.
Finn grabbed her right wrist as she went down beneath them. He forced her pistol up and away
from his face, trying to break her wrist at the same time. Her free hand dug at his shoulder
wound; agony weakened his grip. Kestrel’s thumbs hooked upward, seeking her eyes. She threw
back her head and his thumbnails gouged across her cheekbones.
Off-balance, the three of them sprawled on the sand. The pistol fired again, a vicious spitting
sound. They rolled and kicked, each clawing for leverage, an opening, the single instant needed
to deliver a killing blow.
Kestrel’s weight yanked Finn aside. The knot binding them slipped, allowing the scarf to drop
below their knees. The edge of Kestrel’s hand chopped at Vanessa’s throat. She twisted aside,
taking the blow on her shoulder and throwing Kestrel off-balance. He fell, knocking Finn’s hand
off Vanessa’s wrist, freeing the pistol. Finn clawed at the ground, seeing another handful of sand
to blind her with.
His fingers closed around something hard and heavy and warm. Even as he picked it up, arm
straight and swinging like a club, he knew he was holding the smaller piece of uranium. The
pistol spat in the same second that Vanessa’s skull fragmented beneath the smashing force of the
uranium in Finn’s hand.
Kestrel jerked once and groaned. Vanessa did not move at all. Finn rolled away immediately,
going after Kestrel, his hands seeking Kestrel’s throat. The Japanese did not respond. Finn’s
fingers met slick warm blood. He tore free of the scarf that bound him to Kestrel and came to
his feet, the uranium still in his hand. It had been less than thirty seconds since the uranium had
leaped with blue light.
The uranium in his hand showed a black rime in the moonlight – Vanessa’s blood. She lay on her
back, her eyes open and empty as the wind. The first primitive exhilaration of survival swept
through Finn. The battle to control the world had been fought here, in the desert, using fists and
fingernails – and he had won.
Ana moaned, a sound neither male nor female, fear and pain rending the silence. She crawled to
Kestrel’s side, unaware of the blood welling from her scalp where a fragment of bullet had split
flesh to the bone.
Finn took Vanessa’s gun from her slack fingers and walked over to Ana. She did not look up,
simply held Kestrel and cried, blood mingling with tears on her face. Finn knelt and pressed his
fingers against Kestrel’s neck, seeking a pulse. He thought he found one, but could not be
certain; his own heart was beating so violently.
Slowly, Finn got to his feet, still holding the small piece of uranium. He put it in one pail, then
picked up the larger piece and put it in the second pail. For a moment he stood motionless,
wrapped ín wind, listening to Ana weep. The intoxication of victory began to ebb, leaving room
for pain. His wounded shoulder burned and his body ached from blows he did not remember
receiving. He bent over and took the weight of the buckets. They were heavier than he had
expected, unreasonably heavy. The metal handles cut into his flesh.
“I’ll come back,” he said.
Ana neither looked up nor answered.
Finn turned away and walked toward Manzanar, carrying thousands of deaths and 2 million lives
in his hands.
(The End)
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