Thunderbird by Jack McDevitt Read Free Book Online

unforgettable night.
    Julie had shared his reaction. “Randy,” she’d said, “I don’t know when I’ve ever enjoyed myself more than this.”
    It would be only a few months later that they’d discover the cancer.
    He crossed Interstate 29 and pulled into town, turned right onto Second Street, and followed it south through the ring of trees that circled Fort Moxie, ostensibly shielding it from the prairie winds, and turned again onto the private road that led to his garage.
    The storm was picking up. He would have enjoyed finding a good woman he could spend time with. He knew he was never going to come close to replacing Julie. But it would be nice to have a woman back in his life. Just someone to have lunch with occasionally, to talk to, to go to the movies with. Unfortunately, there were almost no women of an appropriate age available in Fort Moxie. So he’d been giving thought to selling the property and moving. To Grand Forks or Fargo.
    When spring came, he’d have to paint the garage.
    Its door rolled up, and he pulled inside, wondering what had led him into a morose mood after such a pleasant evening. He turned off the engine, got out, and connected the extension cord that powered the heater. If you live in North Dakota, you need something to keep the engine warm during the night, or you may not be able to start the car in the morning.
    They’d been predicting ten below tonight, but it had probably reached that already. He zipped his jacket, left the garage, and started for the house. He’d forgotten to leave the outside lights on. There was no moon, and the sky was cloudy. But that was no big deal. The house loomedahead, a dark mass wrapped in shadow. He was looking for his key when he put his foot into a hole, stumbled, wrenched his hip, and went down.
    The pain was blinding, almost enough to shut off the cold. He screamed. But there would probably be no one close enough to hear him.
    Randall closed his eyes. Tried to ignore what he was feeling. To crawl for the house.
    It hurt. He lay there, trying to keep his face out of the snow. There were stories every year about people who disappeared during the winter and were found in the spring when the ice melted. Sometimes they were people who hadn’t made it in from a garage. Really. There was that guy Eliot Baxter over in Noyes just last year.
    He owned a cell phone, but it was in the house somewhere. Even had he taken it, it was probably not charged. He’d been promising himself that he’d start using it. Melinda had given it to him two Christmases ago, but it just seemed more trouble than it was worth. She was going to be angry with him.
    He made another effort to get moving, just crawl a foot or so, but it hurt too much.
    Somewhere off to the east, as he gave up and slid into darkness, he heard the lonely whistle of a passing train.
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    â€œR ANDY , WHAT HAPPENED ?” It was a familiar voice. “Come on, pal, talk to me.”
    It was Brian Collins, who owned the plot of land west of Randall’s property. “Hip,” Randall said. “Walked into a hole.”
    â€œOkay. Just relax. Help’s on the way.”
    â€œBrian. Thanks.” Randall tried to laugh, but his mouth hurt when he talked. “Glad . . . see you.”
    â€œJust take it easy.” He wrapped a scarf across Randall’s face. “The emergency unit should be here in a few minutes.”
    â€œGood.” Randall closed his eyes. Make the cold go away. And it did.
    Then he was awake again, being lifted into a stretcher. Jean Bennett, who lived over by the church, was bent over him. “You’ll be fine, Mr. Everhardt. Just take it easy and try to breathe normally.”
    Brian was still there. “How’d you find me?” There were blinking lights, and the night was closing in again.
    â€œ. . . Odd business,” Brian said. It was all he