Page 87 of The Women of Oak Ridge
And I was the only one who knew where to look.
If I was going to do this, I had to get to S-50. It was onlya couple miles, I guessed, but someone walking down the road would draw unnecessary attention. I didn’t have clearance for S-50 and would be in trouble if I got caught. Even if I could get one of the bus drivers I was familiar with to ignore rules and transport me to the plant this one time, I didn’t want anyone to know where I was going. The fact that I even knew about another uranium enrichment facility could cast a shadow of suspicion around me.
With my mind made up, I turned toward the west and started out on foot. I’d simply have to keep aware of oncoming traffic and dart into the woods before anyone saw me. Luckily it hadn’t rained lately, so the road was dry. I’d traipsed around our mining community my whole life—up and down hills and hollers, and along animal paths in thick woods—so walking long distances wasn’t difficult. Yet the terrible mission I was on made my steps heavy. I didn’t know why the burden of proof fell to me, but Sissy had been my roommate and friend. She deserved to have the person responsible for harming her held accountable.
Every so often, I turned to look behind me. It felt as though the trees had eyes, watching my every step. Thankfully only one car passed by, but I’d ducked into the brush. I wasn’t certain what I would say should someone stop and ask what I was doing way out there. Maybe I’d tell them Mr. Colby sent me on a confidential errand. With so many secrets in play in Oak Ridge, no one would know if I was telling the truth or not.
The sound of a train rumbling on the other side of the woods to my right brought me to a standstill. I couldn’t remember if the tracks crossed the road or ran parallel, but I didn’t want an engineer or railroad workers to spot me. I let the train pass before I resumed my journey.
After walking for nearly an hour, S-50 came into view. Once again, I found it shocking to see the plant. The train I’d heard pass was now stopped near a large structure with three tall smokestacksthat belched some kind of smoke or vapor. Men worked to unload the string of railroad cars, although I couldn’t see the cargo they toiled over.
With so many people nearby, I left the road and walked to the edge of the Clinch. Unlike most riverbanks, this one had been scraped clean of vegetation when S-50 was built, with no brush or trees to offer cover as I followed the water’s edge past the plant. While I didn’t run, I did pick up the pace and was soon around the bend, hopeful no one had noticed me.
When I reached the area where Clive had parked the car the day we’d come here, I stopped to catch my breath. Piles of unused building materials were scattered here and there. Thick forest grew untouched across the river, but the Clinch was wide. One would have to drive to the Gallaher Gate and cross over the bridge to get to the woods. To the north, behind S-50, were more woods.
My shoulders sagged. A grave could be anywhere.
Tears sprang to my eyes, but I wouldn’t let myself give up. Sissy needed me to do this. I set about searching. The piles. The woods. Everything in between. I had just sat on a fallen tree to take a rest when I heard voices.
“Let’s check over here,” a man said. “She can’t be far.”
My heart nearly leaped out of my chest. I couldn’t get caught. I’d lose my job. I might even be arrested. As quietly as possible, I scrambled to crawl behind the log and pressed my body up against it, trying to still my ragged breath.
Brush rustled loudly nearby. “I don’t see anything,” another man said.
A horse snorted, followed by someone saying, “Easy, girl.”
I gulped.
The men must be mounted military officers. I’d seen them on their horses from time to time, patrolling the riverbanks near K-25. I’d always wondered why it was necessary to have suchintense military presence and security measures throughout the Reservation. After Clive revealed the secret mission everyone in Oak Ridge was working on, whether they knew it or not, things made sense.
“Let’s go. Whoever was out here is gone. It was probably just someone taking a walk on their lunch break.”
I waited until everything was quiet again before I peeked over the log. The men and their horses were nowhere in sight. I retook my seat on the rough tree bark, frightened and discouraged. Tears rolled down my face unchecked.
I hadn’t found any signs of freshly turned dirt or mounds of debris. No signs of a struggle or a terrible crime. Was I wrong? Had Clive been telling the truth when he said he drove Sissy back to the dorm?
“What should I do, Lord? You know where Sissy is,” I whispered, the words choking me. “Help me find her.”
In the stillness of the woods, I listened.
A Canadian goose honked. A chipmunk squeaked. A splash drew my eyes to the wide river. The Clinch snaked around a bend, making its way south.
My pulse began to race as I stared at the moving water. “No,” I breathed.
But suddenly I knew.
Without care for the mounted patrol, I ran out of the woods and didn’t stop until I stood at the river’s edge. The water flowed at a lazy pace. Dark. Dangerous.
I dropped to the ground, my body shaking.
Almost like a scene from a horror movie, the image of Clive carrying Sissy to the river filled my mind’s eye. I shook my head and covered my face, sobbing.
There was no grave, I realized. No freshly turned earth. No body for the authorities to discover.
Sissy was gone.
The river had carried her away.
