Kevin Anderson - Ill Wind

He let Alex take the lead. The two rode across the sprawling back fields and along a path into the trees. With the approaching dusk, everything shone with a soft glow. The air carried a heady, damp smell of grass and pine. The horse made soothing noises as it breathed, rustling through the grass.

“This is nice, Todd,” Alex said. “I haven’t gone out for a ride since this Zoroaster mess started.”

The horses were familiar with the terrain, slowing as the grade got steeper. It took twenty minutes to reach the top of the hill behind Alex’s ranch; from the crest Todd could see lights dotting the valley, houses separated by acres of land instead of the endless crowding of San Francisco.

Todd broke the silence. “I could almost settle down here. You can’t tell we’re so close to the city.”

Alex’s expression was unreadable in the failing light. “If you’d like, Todd, you can come up and ride the horses whenever you want. You’d take better care of them than I do.”

Todd sat upright in the saddle, and for a moment the words clogged in his throat before he finally said, “Really? That would be great!” His voice sounded high-pitched with excitement. He felt a big grin spreading across his face.

“Only if you promise to treat the horses right, though. I’m no good at it anymore.”

“That’s an easy promise to keep!”

Alex’s shadowy face wore a lost smile. “Erin and I spent afternoons riding after I got home from work, then we used to race back to the house, even at night. She loved playing the daredevil.” His words faltered.

Todd waited for Alex to continue, but when Alex spoke again, he changed the subject. “I was in grad school in the sixties before I ever got close to a horse. Marcia, my wife, talked me into taking her on a riding picnic.” He laughed for the first time all night. “I was a real greenhorn, and the horses knew it. As soon as we were out of sight of the stable, my horse halted and started eating grass. Wouldn’t move no matter what I did.”

Todd let Alex talk, beginning to see the man in another light. He wondered how much time Alex spent moping around the house feeling sorry for himself and what had happened to his family.

Todd remembered times in his life when he had dwelled on things he couldn’t change. When his high-school sweetheart Kelly had dumped him for some guy joining the Navy, he had spent months frustrated and hurt, constantly reminded of happier days, the emotional landmines found in scrapbooks and old junk drawers. But Todd also knew bad times could be wrapped up and put away, for a little while at least. He had let loose, riding off and doing stunts on his horse at his parents’ ranch, until his dad had threatened to ground him. Alex needed to let loose too.

Shaking the reins and kicking his mount with his heels, Todd caused Ren to rear up suddenly. A stupid idea with a strange horse, he knew, but just being on horseback again exhilarated him. He felt the power in the horse’s muscles, and a flash of delight surged through him. He held on and felt the joy of life tingle from his head down to the heels of his boots.

Alex looked over his shoulder, startled at the commotion, and his horse backed away.

Todd pulled back on the reins. “Come on, Alex. Race you back!” He didn’t wait for an answer. Todd slapped Ren’s side with an encouraging yell. “Yeeee-hah!” The palomino took off, as if remembering an old game.

Todd could hear only the sound of his horse crashing through the brush, galloping through the tall dry grass. His eyes had grown used to the evening light. Todd clucked at Ren, but he had left Alex behind. The older man must be in no mood to be reminded of the past.

The grade leveled, and Todd slowed his horse. Immediately, the sound of another horse galloping came from behind him.

Todd urged Ren into motion again, but Stimpy bore down to overtake Todd’s horse. Alex crouched low over the saddle, urging the quarter-horse to greater speed. Todd saw a focused expression on the man’s face.

The two of them rode faster through the clearing, charging toward the stables in the home stretch. Both horses ran full out, filled with exuberance. By the time they crossed the clearing and reached the corral, Alex was three lengths ahead of Todd.

Acknowledging his defeat with a laugh, Todd reined the horse to a halt, swung down, and patted Ren on the neck. He laughed again, feeling warm inside. He panted. “What a ride!”

Alex brought Stimpy around, chuckling for a moment. “That was dangerous, you know.”

“Ren knew the way.” Todd reached out to grab Stimpy’s bridle for Alex to dismount. “Like you said, this wasn’t the first time these guys have raced in the evening.” He patted Stimpy. “You’re pretty good in the saddle, Alex. I took you for a gentleman rancher—the type to keep a couple of horses, maybe ride them once in a while without really knowing what he’s doing. I guess was wrong.”

Alex shook his head and stiffly swung down from the chocolate-brown horse. His face looked stormy with sudden doubt, as if something had collapsed inside of him. His shoulders drooped, and he held onto the saddle horn as if to steady himself.

Todd scrambled down from Ren. “Hey, Alex! You sure you’re all right? You look like something’s really bothering you. Worried about whether your Prometheus bug is gonna work?”

Alex shook his head as he turned to lead Stimpy back toward the stable. “No, that’s not it at all. I… I was just enjoying myself, and I didn’t know what to do with the feeling. It’s been a long time.” He fidgeted, keeping himself turned away from Todd. “I think you’d better go. I’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do and… and I’ve got a lot of things to think about.”

Todd scuffed his boot in the dirt. “Sure, Alex. Thanks for letting me stay a while.”

“No, Todd. Thank you.” Alex turned back to him, gripping the bridle of the chocolate horse. “You come up here again soon to ride these horses. Promise.” Behind his glasses, Alex’s pale eyes fixed on him. “I mean it. That’s important to me.”

“Sure,” said Todd. “I promise. I always keep my promises.”

Spencer Lockwood fumbled through the glove compartment and pulled out the map of California from the rental car packet. It didn’t show many details, but he needed only the major highways to find his way back home.

His return flight to Albuquerque did not take off until the next day, but Spencer had no intention of waiting in Livermore. He would only sit in a stuffy hotel room and read a few of the journals he had brought with him, go to bed early, fight traffic back to the San Francisco airport, then fly on to New Mexico.

Or he could drive most of the way back in the same time. It looked like a straightforward trip, a long, peaceful drive.

At Caltech in his grad-student days, Spencer and his buddies would hop into the car and take a road trip for the weekend, heading for the San Gabriel Mountains, Palm Springs, or Tijuana. It had been years since he’d done that.

Spencer relished the prospect of having no distractions, being able to think things out. Driving refreshed him, and the hum of the wheels on the highway gave him a sense of freedom.

He’d cancel his flight, then return the car at the Albuquerque airport. Grinning, Spencer checked the gas gauge—still three-quarters full. He cycled the radio through its “seek” mode twice, searching for surfin’ music, and finally settled for an Oldies station. He turned the car east onto Interstate 580.

The broad landscape seemed to open its arms to welcome him. The five-lane highway wound upward into line of grassy hills that rose like battlements on Livermore’s eastern flank. The Altamont range held something special, one of his favorite sights each time he came to Sandia in Livermore. Stretching for miles across the mountains stood thousands of wind turbines, row upon row. The world’s largest wind farm captured gusts whipping over the range, spinning white aluminum blades and generating power.