Free Paradigm Rift: Book One of the Back to Normal Series by Randy McWilson

the children were quiet, or were at least forced to be.
    “ Three…Two .”
    There was some activity, some sort of movement on the bus. The door opened. McCloud paused, struggling to see through the filthy glass. “ One .”
    In reluctant protest, Denver emerged with his hands just above his shoulders, staring straight ahead. He stepped down to dirt level and froze. They approached him with all the stealth of a big game hunt, guns aloft, taking measured steps.
    “On behalf of the great state of Illinois,” the Chief boomed, “I would like to thank you for making the right choice, Mr. Collins. Please step away from the bus.”
    The young officer waved his gun to the left a few times, signaling the direction for Denver to move. The Chief looked up at the driver and waved. “Let's get this rig outta here, pronto! Nothin’ to see here, folks! Show’s over.”
    The driver appeared thrilled and quickly shut the door. Moments later, with a loud release of air, and a knocking engine, the Greyhound pulled out onto the blacktop, leaving the awkward trio in a mushroom dust cloud.
    “Officer O'Connell,” McCloud said with an unusual air of respect and formality, “would you please search the suspect for weapons?”
    At least half a dozen scenarios of how this could go down passed through Denver’s mind, and more than a few of them involved the death of two supposed policemen. With his military training, he imagined waiting for the wannabee to get close, and then grabbing his arm and shooting McCloud with O’Connell’s gun, then turning it back on the young fool.
    It would be over in all of two and a half seconds.
    The only thing stopping him was the near certainty that this was all part of an elaborate government experiment. These men were just playing their part, following orders, even difficult orders. He himself had been there more often than not. It sickened him to think about how many children he left fatherless overseas or all of the widows he had created just following orders. His already sickened gut felt even sicker.
    A lot of guys had come back from Afghanistan having lost their hearing, or sight, or even a pair of limbs. But Denver had lost something both intangible and crippling; he had forever lost the right to ever judge another human being.
    As O’Connell got close, Denver kept his fight-or-flight instinct locked in a tight cage. He knew the two cops had no clue how close they had come to meeting their maker. Even added together, they were still woefully out of his league.
    Officer O’Connell began patting him down nervously, and within moments located the small pistol. With trembling hands, he lifted Denver’s shirt and retrieved the firearm as though he had found a coiled rattlesnake. He held it high and the gun swung from his fingers like a trophy kill.
    The Chief stepped closer and screamed, “On your knees, Collins— now !”
    Denver lifted his head and shot him a glance. McCloud wasn’t playing games and spoke each word again separately and clearly. “On...your... knees !”
    Denver sank down, almost wishing he would’ve taken a different option moments ago.
    McCloud continued his predictable and harsh barrage, “Hands behind your head!” Denver complied, but he wasn’t in any big hurry to do so. His body language announced to them that his acquiescence was strictly voluntary. The Chief scooted through the gravel and placed the business end of a rifle near Denver's temple.
    “I don't know about you, Billy, but I'd say this criminal here has had a pretty busy day.” He cocked his head and spat in the dust. “Woke up this mornin’ in jail, committed grand theft auto by dinner, and has a loaded gun to his head before supper.“
    Denver had had enough of this ridiculous charade and retorted. “I just want to get home to my daughter!”
    The Chief moved in an arc and engaged him face to face. “You wanna go home?” He pulled the bolt back on his Remington. “I can definitely help you with