The Vision Master

by William Hill

Gran had talked to the first of the four Masters to regain consciousness, that Liam, with the help of Carol and Drew, had defeated and discovered that Smith wasn’t alone in this nefarious plot and, now that Smith was taken out of the picture, others would come after them. They'd decided to do the Highland thing.

  It had been a long night and a very long drive. Liam had slept, apparently, the entire way and only awoke as the van came to a stop. Sitting up and looking around, he could just make out the shapes of Drew and Scott still asleep themselves beside him when somebody opened a door and the vehicle's interior light came on, momentarily blinding him.

  "Where are we?"

  "Your new home away from home, Sport," his father answered, "at least for a while."

  That’s what they said about Gran’s safe house, he thought. I hope this place is a lot safer!

  He climbed out as the brothers roused themselves, and almost fell as he tripped on the uneven ground underneath him beside the van. There was no moon but he could see by the starlight. He realized there were more stars in the sky than he'd ever seen before in the city and knew he was deep in the country somewhere.

  "We'll sleep out here or in the van if you like, until morning. It's too dark to look for the cave until then," he heard his uncle Del say to someone. He then knew they were somewhere in southwestern Virginia, where they'd gone to hide as planned.

  He heard his other uncle, Gene, and Gran talking softly, and noticed vaguely in the near distance Carol's dad's car when several flashlights clicked on and the grownups walked towards each other in the space between them, to talk amongst themselves. He carefully walked passed them as he headed for Carol, who had just got out and was standing by her car.

  "Hi, Carol."

  She heard his voice and turned in his direction. It took her a moment to make him out in the darkness.

  "Oh, hi Liam," she answered in a nervous whisper.

  He could tell from her voice that she was uncomfortable with what was going on. He wasn't especially overjoyed either, but he couldn't let her know that, so he'd try to act and sound confident and assured, to boost her spirits, that everything would be okay.

  "This is going to be fun!" he told her as he came up next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. He could feel her shivering in the cold night air as they leaned against the car, and he realized it was very chilly. "Here, let's get a blanket or something, to get warm," he said, looking among all the camping equipment her father had packed in the back seat area. He found a sleeping bag and unzipped it all around, opening it up like a big blanket, wrapping it around both of them.

  "What’s going to be such fun about it?" she demanded with a quivering voice. "Here we are in the middle of nowhere, way out in the boondocks, looking for a hole in the ground to hide in like scared rabbits, in the winter no less!"

  "Hey, it'll be all right. It'll be a little uncomfortable, but it won't be for long, you'll see. Besides, I'm here."

  Carol craned her head and stared at him with a look that could kill. Reaching his arms around her, he pulled her tightly to himself. At first, he felt her tense, then relax. For a moment, they just stood there, almost nose to nose, just looking into each other's eyes, when he turned his head and lowered it towards her. Carol cocked her head and met his lips. As he felt the warmth of her penetrating his body, Liam heard in the distance the hoot of an owl. He knew they’d be alright. At least for a while, anyway.

  That had been six months ago. Now it was Spring and in a month Liam would be seventeen. It had only been a year and a half ago when all this had begun, beginning with the troubles at school, finding out he was a Vision Master along with just about everyone else in his family. But it seemed so much longer than that. Now he lived in a cave.

  Two types of caves were typical of the area. Some formed by the combination of rainwater mixing with the plentiful carbon dioxide in the air of the heavily forested mountains, creating a weak solution of carbonic acid that becomes acid rain. This finds its way through small fissures in the native limestone rock beneath the ground, slowly dissolving the rock over millennia, and carving out both narrow passages and “rooms” large and small. These are “wet” caves, with stalactites and stalagmites looking like huge teeth in a gargantuan open mouth. Some have small pools, even lakes. Other caves are “dry” caves. These are formed beneath the earth by underground streams and rivers that, having cut through the rock, leave chambers (rooms) and passages. With the water ever seeking even-lower levels because of gravity, leave older and closer to the surface levels water-free. Sometimes, because of weakness in the surface rock, a portion of the “roof” would fall in allowing access. Other times, as the surrounding earth settles over time, a fissure occurs in the side of the mountain or hillside allowing access into the cave. When either happens, air from the outside will, in time, dry out the cave, leaving no evidence of the water that formed it. They made their home in this type.

  Since the night they arrived in the mountains of Virginia, they'd established quite a cozy nest in the ground. Even though it had snowed often, and got bitter cold outside, the cave, more like a cavern, was a tolerable fifty-eight degrees constantly, and warmer still around the small cooking fires they kept burning continuously, using only old, dry hardwood that didn't smoke like young and green, or wet, wood would. Still, while it was a bit chilly if you weren't moving around, it was tolerable.

  They'd managed to survive by hunting with Carroll's bows and arrows. It had been decided not to use the guns because they didn't want their reports to alert anyone in the area of their presence. They took mostly small game, such as rabbit and squirrel, with the occasional deer, and fishing. They also raided area farms at night to collect a few of what winter vegetable might be growing since they were needed to supplement the meat for their overall health, and they didn't dare venture into any nearby towns to buy any as they didn't want anyone curious about "new" people in the area. They melted snow for water because they wanted to conserve their iodine tablets to purify the creek water come Spring through Fall. The also stayed fit by exercising.

  Overall, it could have been worse, they could have starved, or froze, or been discovered. But they hadn't. They'd even managed to not get into fights among themselves. Living in such close and confining circumstances, on the few occasions tempers did flare up those involved simply moved their stuff to another area and avoided each other to the extent possible until they cooled down.

  Only one truly sad thing had happened that dampened everyone's spirits. Gran died one night in her sleep, barely two months into their self-imposed exile. She had never really recovered her strength after her combat with Smith, and the rigors of their circumstances took a toll on what she had left. At eighty-one years of age, one could suppose she might have gone even under the best of circumstances, but her passing over still took them by surprise. She must have known it was coming because, in the last weeks before it happened, she spent long hours visiting individually with each of her sons and Liam.

  It was during the many nights she spent with him that she told him everything she knew of their family, and shared with him every trick and scrap of knowledge she had learned over the years about dream casting, and had him practice over and over, until he was as proficient as she could get him.

  "You must pass everything you know to the others. Of course, they'll never be able to do all the things you can, or do them as well if they can, but they'll never know unless they're told and try. Especially Drew and Scott. Those boys are more than cousins to you, they're like brothers you never had. They look up to you, trust you, and will always be faithful and loyal to you. They'll always be at your side. And one last thing, Liam...be good to Carol and take care of her, she's meant for you, and you for her."

  "Oh, Gran...we're still young yet. I really like her and all, but who can see what our future together might be?"

  "I do," she said to him.

  Liam would remember that.
r />   "Liam, you've been everything I could have hoped for in a grandson," she told him just before they'd gone to bed the last night she'd been in this life.

  "Gran, you're talking in the past tense. I plan on staying your best grandson!"

  She just smiled at him, and said, "You are the best. No one has ever been better; no one ever will be again."

  "Flattered, to be sure! Goodnight, Gran."

  It was only after some time later when he had been reflecting on that last night, that he wondered if she had been commenting on him as a grandson, or as a Vision Master.

  The sky was twilit, and the men-folk were still out doing their thing and had yet to return to the cave, Carroll and Gene hunting, Liam's dad out checking the trap lines they'd lain in the woods for rabbits, and Del fishing. Carol had gone out to get some fresh air when she came back into the cave hurriedly, interrupting Liam as he was honing Drew's ability to envision himself somewhere with someone else, and still working with Scott to get him to do it for the first time.

  "Liam! I was just outside when I heard voices! They're close by, just over that knoll to the left, towards the road."

  There was a pregnant pause, and then Drew ran over to where the guns had been cached and picked up a shotgun.

  "Listen, guys! We don't know who they are or why they're there. They’re probably locals just out hunting, or something. Let's not panic," Liam warned, not even considering they may actually be looking for them. "Drew, take the gun and get onto that copse of wood to the right. Stay out of sight, and don't let your trigger finger get itchy if they get near the cave entrance. They won't see it unless they know where to look, or get lucky, assuming they come this way. We'll stand just inside the entrance. If they come anywhere near it, walk out to meet them, acting like you're out hunting. Make small talk, like, have they seen any rabbit, or whatever. If we hear your voice, we'll know they're close and we three will be ready to suppress them if necessary. But, I don't want anyone hurt.”

  Drew nodded to Liam and, after pausing at the entrance, checking to see if he could see anyone, left.

  Looking at Carol and Scott, Liam told them to stay behind him and, if he said "Now!", to exit the cave with him, and begin suppressing whoever is out there to the best of their ability, being sure to stop whenever anyone dropped. He didn't want them to overdo it and damage anyone.

  He crouched down, behind a boulder that partially blocked the entrance. He could see in the direction Carol had said she'd heard the voices, and he was confident that he wouldn't be seen. Watching carefully, he turned his thoughts to his inner mind, just as Gran had taught him, and mentally reached out into the direction Carol had indicated. Masters. More than one!

  He whispered to Carol and Scott, telling them, and telling them to be ready. He saw them take each other's hand in preparation as he looked back in the direction of the hushed voices he could now hear, coming closer to the cave.

  They came around the hillock, walking directly towards the cave. Suddenly he stood up and stepped out to meet them, his right hand raised in front of him, both as a gesture of greeting and a caution to Drew to stay where he was, and with his left hand behind him telling Carol and Scott not to move.

  "Oh! Good morning!" he said as he walked out from behind the rock. There were only three of them that he could see.

  "It’s him!" one of them said.

  Liam immediately began focusing on them to suppress.

  "Wait! We're friends!"

  He didn't sense any active counter-visioning from any of them, so he ratcheted down his mind, staying ready to go to full strength if necessary.

  "Friends of whom?"

  "Are you Liam?" one of them asked.

  "Who are you?" he asked in return.

  The man in front of the other two said, "My name is Tom. I know your dad."

  "Really."

  "I talked with him on the phone months ago, and told him how our Circle had been attacked, and that I was on the run."

  Liam remembered. “Still…why did you think to look for him here?"

  "I didn't, until his mother reached out and touched my mind, telling me to come exactly here. I don't know how she managed it; I was more than sixty miles from here, in West Virginia. Where is she? It was a phenomenal effort to reach that far and find me. I'd really like to talk to her."

  "When you first saw me, your friend there said, 'It's him!', and you asked if I'm Liam. Why does he think I’m this...‘Liam’?"

  The one who'd said "It’s him" answered. "Who doesn't know the name 'Liam MacDonald'? My name, by the way, is Jerry, and it's a distinct honor to finally meet you."

  "Again, why do you think I'm this 'Liam' you're looking for?"

  The third man spoke. "We weren't looking for you. We came because your grandmother told us to come here. However, we knew you were you the minute you stepped out. You had a presence stronger than I've ever felt, you had to be Marion's grandson, Will MacDonald's son, the Liam MacDonald that took down Dr. Smith. And I'm Rick."

  "That wasn't Liam’s doing. His grandmother had that honor. How did you hear about that anyway?"

  Tom spoke up. "Might we go inside? It's a bit cold out here and we've been walking for hours. I'd like to talk to your — Liam's — grandmother, and then we can talk about things. Of course, that's assuming your friend over there in the trees lets us."

  When Liam cocked his head at him in feigned non-understanding, Rick explained, "We knew he was there before we came around the hill; we sensed his presence immediately."

  Liam laughed. “Come on out, Drew. Go find my dad and tell him Tom is here with friends."

  To the men he said, "Come on in."

  To Tom he said, "I'm afraid my grandmother isn't here."

  In the following weeks some twenty more found their way to the cave, young and old, though none as young as Liam, nor as old as his father, male and female, coming singly, or in pairs. He was beginning to sense how Noah must have felt. Once a group of five showed up together, all from the same Circle. Some had just met up on the way. Some had come, as Tom did, from as far as sixty miles. All were Masters.

  In talking with them, he discovered that his grandmother hadn't called out to each of them, those that she had had visioned out to others; the "mental telegraph" was spreading the news to known and trusted Masters everywhere about what had happened at Dr. Smith’s and that Liam was safe, albeit in hiding.

  By now the cavern was getting quite crowded, there was no room for more, and even though there were other caves in the area, it was getting harder to forage enough food to feed the burgeoning army. And that's what it was now being called, "Gran’s Army", although it was Liam that they rallied around. Some simply wanted to meet the "Boy Wonder", but most came enlisting their services to the cause, the overthrow, extermination if necessary, of those who sought to eliminate the group of Masters loyal to the people and nation. Just who the enemy was, was a matter of intensive debate among all.

  The last snow had thawed and disappeared, leaving everything green. The days had begun to warm. The "army" was growing restless. Many had forsaken family and career for the chance, maybe, of ending the pogrom against them, and most of them had come in the hope that Liam would lead them into battle so they could avenge the death, suppression into madness, or imprisonment of friends and comrades, brought about by Smith and his cohort.

  It seemed to Liam that he was asked a dozen times a day now when he would issue the army's marching orders. He was growing tired of it. And he was scared. He couldn't fathom why all these adults were looking to him for direction and leadership. Certainly, someone older than me has to have had more experience in such matters. He needed to talk it out.

  He walked out of the cave and stopped. He narrowed his eyes at the sunlight until he could adjust from the semi-darkness of the cavern and walked the fifty or so yards to the creek where his father escaped to whenever he felt overwhelmed by the mass of humanity huddlin
g in the cave.

  Finding him sitting by the bank, his back against a tree, looking off into the distance, Liam cleared his throat audibly. His father looked up and saw his son, and patted the ground next to him, inviting Liam to sit. Sitting down, Liam spoke after a moment’s silence.

  "Penny."

  “Excuse me?”

  “For your thought.”

  "Oh. I was just thinking how much I miss your mother and sisters."

  Liam didn't respond. He missed them as well, deeply, and when he gave himself the time to think about them it was all he could do to keep from choking up, so he rarely allowed himself to think about them.

  "A penny," his dad said.

  "I know how you feel."

  "You didn't come looking for me to commiserate. What's on your mind, Sport?"

  "The natives are getting restless. They want to move. But why do they look to me? I'm just a kid!"

  "Age has nothing to do with it. By the age of sixteen, a year younger than you, Richard the Lionhearted was leading his own army, putting down rebellions in his father’s French holdings. Alexander the Great was only two years older than you are now when, at nineteen, he led the Greek army with tens of thousands of men much older and more battle experienced than he, and conquered the known world. Or, in our Scot’s history, Prince James, aged fifteen, led an army of 18,000 against his father, King James III and his army of 30,000, and decisively defeated him at the Battle of Sauchieburn, near Stirling. James III died and the prince became James IV."

  "But that was another age and they'd all been groomed as the sons of warrior kings to assume the role of a general. That hasn't exactly been my background."

  "Well, neither was either James. They were typical royals of their day. They had arms training, but weren’t anything like true warriors. Both men relied on their earls and other nobles, and their men. Of course, we don’t usually sing James IV praises because he confiscated our family’s titles and claims in the Highlands and Isles under the Act of Revocation that deprived the Clan chiefs of everything they owned and controlled, and imprisoned for life our ancestor, Donald Dubh, heir to the Lordship of the Isles. Still, when real men have circumstances thrust upon them they rise to the occasion and do what needs to be done. Twice you've found yourself in circumstances that demanded that you step up and do something you've never done before, and both times you proved yourself capable. It doesn't matter if you don't believe that you are their 'General'. To them you are, and you have an army, whether you like it or not. You’ve become a man, and you’re the man they want to follow.”

  "What am I suppose to do?"

  "You only have two choices, as I see it. You can either tell everyone to forget it and to go home, or accept the crown they're offering you and do what every leader does. Lead."

  "How?"

  "Liam, you're not alone in this. Every President has a Cabinet, every General a Staff, every King a Privy Council. Every successful leader seeks advice from people he trusts, but in the end has to make the final decision on his own."

  "Would you mind being my Privy Counselor, 'Sir' Will?"

  His father laughed. "So long as you don't let your crown go to your head, yes, Sire! Why don't I go and round up the family and we can discuss ‘Matters of State’ and decide what options we can offer you. Why don't you just stay here, relax for a while, and not think about it."

  How can I not think? I wish Gran were here, she'd know what to do. He turned his thoughts to the better times in his past, when life had been so much simpler, and so much fun. He remembered the Christmas' and Fourth’s of July, birthday parties and family reunions, weeklong Boy Scout camp-outs, his first bicycle, playing in the woods. The woods, where he'd lived so many dreams. Dreams, Damn dreams! His thoughts had come full circle — a Dream Master who's now caught in a nightmare! And he has an 'army' of Dream Masters who want to share it. Why? Why did this have to happen to me? How can I end this without anyone getting hurt?

  He got up and started walking along the creek bank, following it as it meandered through a small meadow past the trees, thinking that there had to be more options than two to end this. Sending everyone home wouldn't work; some would probably fight on their own and, without numbers, be overwhelmed and lose. The alternative, taking everyone into battle could have the same result. And, to lead an "army"? How? Where? Against whom? It would mean many people getting hurt, if not outright killed. That he definitely did not want to happen!

  He stopped short, his concentration interrupted by animal sounds ahead of him. Looking up, he saw a fox and her two kits menaced by a black bear. The bear was coming at them and the mother fox, protecting her young, was charging the bear, running around it, snapping, growling, and barking, attempting to lure the bear away from her family. The bear, in turn, was swiping its paws at the fox, trying to hit her, but the fox, being more agile and faster, managed to dodge the blows as she continued her harassment. He watched in fascination, knowing that one hit of the bear's paw would kill the fox, yet understanding that she would willingly sacrifice her own life to protect her family. It dawned on him that he knew what he had to do. As he saw the harried bear call it quits in frustration, abruptly turn and amble away from the determined fox, he turned also and made his way back to the cave, planning how he was going to do it.

  Coming to the cave, he saw people sitting and standing around. Some were talking, others busy at some chore as there was always something that needed to be done, washing clothes, preparing food, gathering firewood, and anything else to support the encampment. As he walked among them on his way to the entrance, they parted to allow him through, greeting him, and one, much to his irritation, even saluted him as he passed. Entering the cave, and pausing to let his eyes adjust to the relative darkness, he could see the shapes of even more people doing much the same as those outside. Looking around, he couldn't see any of his family or friends, thankfully. He didn't want conversation or company as he quickly set about doing what he had to do.

  He went to his sleeping area and began sorting through his meager belongings. Making sure no one was paying attention to him, he packed the few pieces of clothing he thought he'd need, made sure his canteen was full, and was ignored as he strolled over to the kitchen area and stuffed some deer jerky and hard rolls into his jacket pockets. Returning, he stowed them along with the canteen and clothes in the almost new, tawny-brown rucksack, that a follower had given him to use as a pillow, at the top of his sleeping bag. Finished with his preparations, he sighed in relief. Now that he'd made his decision as to what he needed to do, he relaxed and took a nap.

  When he woke, it was obvious it was well past the dinner hour. People were beginning to get ready to retire for the day. He lay there, on his bag, listening to the quiet hum of voices, watching the comings and goings of people through his barely opened eyes, some saying their "Good nights" to friends, some going to the privy one last time. He realized that he had become accustomed to this life. At times he even enjoyed it, even as surreal as it still seemed for the most part.

  As things finally quieted down, except for the sounds of muffled snorting and snoring here and there, Liam rose and carefully walked around and through the sleeping forms to the cook fire. A reddish-yellow glow of banked embers illuminated the kitchen area enough for him to find a bowl and spoon, and a cup, on the nearby rocky shelf. He poured himself some coffee, and ladled out some stew, from the pots hanging over the fire pit left there for those outside on sentry duty when their watch was over. As he ate what would be his last meal in the cave, his home for these last six months, he looked at each of the sleeping people he had come to know so intimately. He knew them all by name. He knew just about every intimate detail of their lives. They had become like extended family. His clan. His eyes noticed Carol in her sleeping bag lying next to his, curled up with only her face showing above the top of her bag, her auburn hair outlining her soft cheeks. Near her were the brothers,
his cousins, Drew and Scott. What true friends they had become! Looking further, he found his father. Liam was suddenly aware of how much older his dad looked now. This ordeal had been more trying on him than Liam had realized. God, how I love them all! He knew he could not let anything happen to them. He knew he mustn’t fail at what he had to do.

  Finishing his meal, he laid aside his bowl and cup, rose and made his way back to his belongings, rolled up his bag, and tied it to his pack. Shouldering it, he stealthily crept to the cave's entrance, waited until the sentry passed by, and then walked out into the night.

  Chapter Twenty Seven: The Offensive

  “Leaders establish the vision for the future and set the strategy for getting there; they cause change. They motivate and inspire others to go in the right direction and they, along with everyone else, sacrifice to get there.”