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Chapter 4 - The King of the Mound

The fire crackled steadily, the only sound in the cabin besides the occasional soft murmur from Gran as she worked over the unconscious man. Daniel sat on the edge of the wooden table, his gaze fixed on the stranger, who lay motionless on the couch with the woolen blanket draped over him. The man's face was streaked with dirt and blood, but now that he was closer, Daniel could see the sharp lines of a face that spoke of strength and experience—someone who had lived a life of battle, both physical and emotional.

Ruse and Clyde had taken seats by the fire, still too uneasy to relax. Daniel, on the other hand, couldn't sit still. His mind raced, turning over the same thought again and again. The stranger's face. There was something familiar about it. But where had Daniel seen him before?

Gran seemed to notice the same thing, her brow furrowed in thought. She leaned over the man, inspecting a wound on his forehead as she cleaned the blood away with a damp cloth.

"I don't like the look of this," Gran muttered, more to herself than anyone else. She carefully bandaged the wound, then began to check the man's vitals again. "But I'll do what I can."

Daniel watched her work for a moment, then stood up and moved toward the window. The moonlight streamed through the glass, casting long shadows on the floor. The mountains stood silent outside, bathed in the soft light, but something in the air felt charged, as if the land itself knew something was changing.

Ruse was the first to speak up, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "You think he's gonna make it?"

Gran didn't answer right away. She adjusted the bandage, smoothing it over the stranger's forehead, before sitting back in her chair and exhaling slowly. "He'll survive for now. But it's not just the crash I'm worried about. There's something about this man that doesn't sit right with me."

"Doesn't sit right?" Daniel asked, his attention snapping back to her. "What do you mean?"

Gran's sharp eyes locked on Daniel's. "I've seen a lot in my day, Daniel. Some things you can feel in your bones. And something tells me this man didn't just crash here by accident."

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. But before Daniel could respond, the man on the couch stirred. A low groan escaped his lips, and his hand twitched, as if testing the air around him. The boys froze, their eyes wide with anticipation.

The stranger's eyelids fluttered, then slowly opened. At first, his gaze was unfocused, bleary. But then, as his eyes adjusted to the light, they locked onto Daniel, and for a brief moment, the world outside the cabin seemed to fall away. The stranger's eyes were a deep shade of brown, sharp with an intensity that immediately struck Daniel.

"Where...?" The man's voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.

Daniel stepped closer. "You're safe now," he said, his tone more uncertain than he meant it to be. "You crashed. We found you. You're at my gran's place."

The man's gaze shifted slowly, taking in the cabin and its surroundings. His eyes lingered on Gran for a moment, then returned to Daniel. "Where are we?"

"Stone Ridge," Daniel answered. "Up in the mountains. I'm Daniel, and this is Ruse and Clyde. We brought you here after the crash."

The stranger's eyes narrowed, his brows knitting together as he seemed to search his memory. A flicker of recognition passed across his face, but it quickly disappeared, replaced by a deepening confusion.

"I... I don't remember," he muttered. His voice was barely audible, but there was an unmistakable edge to it, as if the man was trying to make sense of something that didn't add up.

Gran stepped forward, her weathered hands placing a gentle but firm grip on the man's arm. "Take it easy now," she said, her voice calm but commanding. "You're safe here. Don't try to force anything."

The stranger closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to steady himself. When he opened them again, his gaze shifted to Daniel, and a flicker of something—recognition, maybe, or something darker—passed between them. But before Daniel could say anything, the man spoke.

"Who are you?" The question wasn't directed at Daniel—it was directed at himself.

Gran's sharp eyes caught the undercurrent of the stranger's question. "He doesn't remember, Daniel," she said quietly, more to herself than to anyone else. "Not yet, anyway."

The room fell into an uneasy silence. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, the only sound in the cabin. Daniel looked at Ruse and Clyde, who exchanged uncertain glances. What had they gotten themselves into?

"I'm James Larkin," the man said after a long pause, his voice steadier now, though still laced with confusion. He sat up with difficulty, wincing as pain shot through him. "I... I'm a baseball player."

Daniel froze. The name registered instantly. James Larkin. The King of the Mound. The pitcher who had once been a legend in the game, his fastball feared by batters across the country. Daniel had seen clips of him on the news, read about him in sports magazines. Everyone in Stone Ridge had heard of him, even though baseball was more of a distant dream than a reality for most people here.

Ruse let out a low whistle. "The James Larkin?" he asked, awe in his voice.

James Larkin gave a slight nod, his face strained with effort as he rubbed his eyes. "I don't know what I'm doing here. The plane went down, and..." His voice trailed off, the weight of his confusion settling in.

Gran took a step back, her eyes scanning the man before turning to Daniel. "I told you. People don't crash planes in the mountains for no reason."

Daniel's mind raced. James Larkin. The name felt surreal now, like it couldn't belong to the man lying in front of him. This wasn't the kind of person you expected to find in the backwoods of Appalachia, especially not after a plane crash. Yet here he was, the former baseball legend, broken and vulnerable, as if fate had brought him here for some purpose neither of them could yet understand.

Ruse leaned in closer, his eyes wide with curiosity. "So, what now?" he asked, glancing between Daniel and Gran.

Gran's eyes narrowed. "Now, we see what he remembers. But I've got a feeling this is just the beginning of something... bigger than any of us could've expected."

Daniel felt a strange shiver run down his spine. He wasn't sure if it was the weight of Gran's words or the way James Larkin's eyes seemed to study him as though he knew something Daniel didn't. Whatever it was, he could feel it—the pull of something changing, something pulling him forward, even though he had no idea what lay ahead.

One thing was certain, though.

The game had changed.