David Dale - Will Grant, Guardian

Will Grant: Guardian

By

David Dale

Strategic Book Group

Copyright 2011

All rights reserved David Dale

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the permission, in writing, from the publisher.

Strategic Book Group

P.O. Box 333

Durham, CT 06422

www.StrategicBookClub.com

ISBN: 978-1-61204-323-4

Printed in the United States of America

To those whose imaginations are not fettered by boundaries of perceived reality.

Chapter 1

He lay motionless on his back in the small clearing, eyes closed. The thick, tall, brown grass surrounding him gently swayed in the light breeze. The bright, clear sky was unbroken, except for a small patch of clouds setting low on the distant horizon. They were slowly growing, puffing skyward, turning darker, moving in his direction.

Will Grant stirred ever so slightly, eyelids twitching. Then, in another moment, he opened his eyes and stared blankly, unable to comprehend for a moment the broad, limitless sky. Neurons began to fire sluggishly in his head, chaotic in their pattern, leaving him dazed, a heavy, numbing fog enveloping his consciousness.

Then came the first soundsthe rustling grass, nearby chirping insects and, more distant, chattering birds. All were familiar, in a general sense, yet differentor at least his perception of them. He fought to concentrate on them and found, strangely, that he could isolate and adjust the level of each of the various sounds reaching him. He didn't recall ever being able to that before.

He tried to sit up but failed, then attempted to move his head. He strained trying to turn it left, then right. But it remained motionless. Paralyzed, he thought. Panic seized him. What little focus he had gained now flitted away from him. He remained in this state for several minutes, but in another moment, fighting for control again, he finally calmed himself and worked at penetrating the fog still tightly wrapping around his mind. In a flash of memory, he recalled an exploding grenade whose force had flattened and dazed him, but that seemed somehow different than his present situation, and he sensed, time-wise, that it had been a long time ago. This was more like waking from a heavy dose of an anesthetic.

His memory search failing, he returned to assessing his physical condition. I should try something different, he thought, more mental, a two-step effort. After pondering a moment, he rubbed his thumb against a fingertip, then tried both hands. He felt a little relief as he felt some sensationsand he had moved something. The accomplishment focused his attention. He tried again, moving his thumb over his fingertipsmore rapidly this time, up and down. He noticed a slight delay between thinking the movements and doing them, and the feeling of thumb against fingers also seemed slightly delayed, but at least feeling was there and control was thereeven if a little out of sync. He felt as a toddler must feel trying to learn the difficult and complex coordination between mind and body, and only through trial and error, bumps and bruises, and lots of practice would it all finally come together. But why and how have I been reduced to this condition? he wondered anxiously.

Using his newly reacquired skill, Will raised one arm and then the other. Simple enough, he thought, then raised himself to a sitting position. He turned his head left, then right, and looked at the tall, wild grass around him. Nothing familiarnothing to help clear his confusion. He turned his head back slowly to the front and gazed at his outstretched legs. They were bare, as were his feet. But what finally caught his attention was the area where his genitals once were. His eyes glazed over as he took in the smooth, hairless, uninterrupted skin. Unable to accept what he wasn't seeing, he strained once more for control. Then, concentrating, he moved his arms and grasped his thighs, unable to believe his eyes. But his touch only confirmed what he saw. He cried out, but no sound came. The world spun around him. He fell backward and covered his face with his hands. Too much, he thought, moving his head slowly back and forth. He must have been in some sort of violent accident. The idea came on the fringes of his thoughts. But except for his missing parts, he saw and felt no signs of trauma. No, this has got to be something else, he thought. Hallucinations? Perhaps. But what would cause that?

After a moment, relaxing a bit, he anxiously began exploring his face, wondering what else had happened to him. But all seemed normal, except he couldn't feel his eyebrows. His exploring fingers moved slowly over his scalp. It too felt smooth to his touch. His hair had always been fairly thick, light brown, although recently with a splash of gray around the temples. Now, he suddenly thought, how did I recall that?

A sudden, distant clap of thunder diverted his attention. He sat up again, this time with little effort. He searched the sky, but it remained free of clouds within his field of view. He drew his knees up, supported his arms on them, and rested his head on his forearms. Okay, he thought, I recalled a small detail. Now, if I can just expand on that. Got to find some answers. That or I'm going to go mad right here in the middle of wherever I am.

Forget the physical changes for the moment, he told himself. He concentrated on penetrating the thick mental fog still enveloping his thoughts. His name came suddenly to himWill Grant. And he remembered Kansas and his hometown a short distance from Topeka. Some small sense of relief came over him as memories started crowding in, and he began to become reoriented. He recalled his small businessan accounting firm that he'd sold after growing it for twenty years. But something less pleasant gnawed at him now. Helen, the love of his life, flashed before him, swirling about him. Gone, he recalled. The aggressive cancer had sickened her, wasted herand finally, almost mercifully, had taken her. His thoughts extended to his familydaughters Diane and Marie. They'd sustained each other through it all. And he'd needed them, he recalled, more than they had needed him. Both were marriedDiane, the older, with two children of her own.

His thoughts returned to the small clearing. He was torn between the urge to continue searching his memories and concentrating on his present situation. But thinking of Helen was too painful at the moment, so he sought a new direction. The sun was now well above the tall grass that was his horizon. He lifted his head and squinted at the light, but then found he didn't need to squint at all. He stared at it and focused until he could clearly see the giant flames as they leapt from the surface, curled, then sank back into the hellish solar inferno. First his hearing, and now his eyesight seemed to have been modifiedenhanced, somehow. And he had this feeling of being shielded from the physical world by something incomprehensible.

He again leaned forward to rest his head on his arms and closed his eyes. His thoughts again sought the winding trail that, hopefully, would provide answers to his many urgent questions.

He'd been traveling, he recalled. He'd bought a small but functional recreational vehicle. Diane and her family had eagerly taken over the house. He'd set aside the recent addition for himself and converted it to a combination den, study, and bedroom. Even though he was eager to escape the memories that were everywhere and relentlessly pressed against him each long day, he'd wanted someplace to call home. He struggled now to remember.