Paradigm Rift: Book One of the Back to Normal Series Read Free Page B

mere moments ago.
    But how? Where? If it was an explosion, where is the smoke? How did I end up in a motel? What’s freakin’ going on?
    It was a mystery, but he reminded himself that a mystery is just an event that is yet to be explained. He began working through possible explanations, from an over-the-top office prank, to a far-fetched government conspiracy. He had a few friends who worked for the NSA, recruited right after Afghanistan. Those guys now operated in an entirely new region of reality, a region of unlimited information and limitless resources. They might be messing with him. Regardless of their individual merits, the potential explanations he toyed with at least served to pass the time.
    He checked his phone again fifteen minutes later. No bars, no location, no service. As he shoved it back into his pocket— a sound . He perked up…in the distance, a low tone. He turned and spotted the muted glow of car headlights through the cool haze.
    He thought about flagging them down, but that would be almost crazy, right? He decided against acting desperate and continued towards town, whatever town it was.
    The car was much closer now, but he resisted the urge to look. The rumble of the engine revealed that it was slowing as it approached. Denver's shadow was thrown long and strong as a sudden pool of intense light surrounded him. He was being spotlighted and he just walked on, pretending not to notice, full knowing how ridiculous that proposition was.
    A voice pierced the tension. "Need a ride son?"
    He hesitated in his steps, still disoriented. "I, uh...I'm not sure."
    Denver glanced back and was nearly blinded by the search light, now amplified by the mist. He couldn't help but shield his eyes as the gruff stranger continued. "A little early to be hittin' the sauce wouldn't you say?"
    Denver was thrown for a bit. "What? Sauce? Oh, no...I…I'm not...I haven’t been…" He tried to resume walking down the tiny shoulder.
    The stranger rolled alongside in the car, matching his pace. "Lemme guess. You're not from around here, are ya?"
    Denver shrugged as he plodded along. The conversation appeared innocent enough, but his military-sharp skepticism was on full alert. He managed a rough answer. "Well, if I only knew where here was."
    The car pulled ahead of him a bit and Denver was shocked to see it was a police car, or at least it had been a police car, maybe fifty years ago. With huge whitewalls and large rounded fenders, it was an auto collector's dream. The man stopped the car and got out. His silhouetted form revealed a hat befitting law enforcement. Denver caught a glimpse of a pistol at the man’s side and thought it best to attempt de-escalation. "I, uh, I'm not looking for any kind of trouble."
    The uniformed figure stepped a bit closer. "Listen, son, why don't ya just get in my squad car, and let's figure out what's going on here."
    Denver's fight-or-flight mechanism went into overdrive, and he chose the latter. He darted off the road, and flung himself across a shallow ditch, landing and tripping in a dirt-clod field. He recovered his stride and ran in the moonlight, navigating as best he could through the low rows of freshly harvested wheat.
    The stranger lifted a gun. "Hey! Stop! Don't make me shoot you, son!"
    Denver stumbled again, hitting face first into a patch of sharp wheat stubs, but recovered in a mess of dirt, sweat, and adrenaline, and took off again.
    The man took aim. "Last warning!"
    Denver's heart pounded out of his chest as he continued his mad and uneven pace. Then there was a flash, a crack of gunfire, and Denver was thrown forward with the impact. He smacked the bristled ground and rolled several times. The back of his left shoulder felt like it had been tagged by a scorpion's tail, burning and enflamed. He slid to a stop and reached around with his right hand. What was this?
    His fingers discovered a large device buried into his flesh and yanked it out.
    A tranquilizer dart?
    He flung it