Alan Price and the Colossus of Rhodes (The Nephilim Chronicles)

by Jonathan Yanez

  Alan could feel the blood rush to his face. The doctor’s soft touch against his chest made him clear his throat and swallow as if it were some kind of allergic reaction.

  “There you go, Alan, you look great.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Well, don’t start getting cold feet now. You are doing so well. I’m proud of you, Alan. Now get inside and have some fun.

  Chapter 11

  The gymnasium was decorated from floor to ceiling in yellow, green, blue and pink. Alan couldn’t help but think that Dr. Seuss had been employed to make the event come to life. Despite his own misgivings about the décor, everyone seemed to be having a great time. A live band covered the latest hits on stage; there was a table set up with refreshments and balloons lay across the gym floor in every direction.

  Alan stood by himself soaking in the scene. It wasn’t something he had dwelt on for any length of time but once or twice before he had wondered what a school dance looked like, now he knew.

  “Hey, was that your car? The Benz?”

  Alan had to stop from jumping as he turned to see who had spoken to him. Her name was Amber Jacobson, she was Alan’s grade and tonight she was wearing a short pink dress with a plunging neckline.

  “Ummm… yeah well, it’s borrowed but I drove it here.”

  “Nice, car. You look familiar. Do I know you? Do you go to school here?”

  Alan raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, I’m Alan.”

  Amber starred back at him with a blank look.

  “Alan Price. We’ve both gone to this school since we were freshmen.”

  No look of recognition passed across the young blonde’s face. She shrugged as she waived to someone behind Alan. “Oh okay. Well, cool car. I’m gonna go catch up with my friends but maybe we can take a spin sometime or hangout later tonight.”

  “Yeah, yeah okay.”

  Amber was gone in the next few seconds running in her high heels to catch up with a group of girls that may have well been her clones.

  Alan stood shocked. He hadn’t even been to the dance for a full minute before a girl had approached him for the very first time, ever.

  Is this really how easy it was? Were expensive clothes and an expensive haircut all I needed to be noticed?

  Alan kicked himself for not trying anything like this before. For the first time in a very long while Alan felt good, he felt great. In place of the depression and anger was a sense of accomplishment. Even if the rest of the night turned out to be him sitting by himself, he had done enough. That small exchange with Amber was more pleasant socializing than he had done with anyone that entire month. And, she had approached him.

  Alan couldn’t help but smile as he walked to the punch bowl and poured himself a glass of the red sugar water. He wasn’t even thirsty but it seemed like the thing to do next. The drink touched his lips and ran down his throat, making his taste buds pucker at its sweetness.

  The lights in the gymnasium were dimmed with a classic disco ball sending tiny rays of light in every direction. It was while he was getting ready to leave the refreshment table that he noticed Jennifer Richardson and Brent Carson approaching with their clique of cheerleaders and jocks.

  In a heartbeat, all the good feelings and joy that Alan had felt were gone. His hands started to sweat as the group looked at him with a confused expression then stared open-mouthed in his direction. Brent was the first to speak. “Alan, is that you?”

  Alan couldn’t bring his dry throat to say a word so he nodded instead.

  “Oh my gosh, dude, what happened to you?”

  “I decided to come to the dance,” Alan hated how his voiced squeaked out the response.

  “Yeah, I can see that. Who are you here with?”

  “Nobody.”

  “Come on, Brent,” Jennifer said giving Alan a look of surprise while leading her boyfriend away from Alan with a gentle tug. “You said you were going to get me something to drink.”

  “Yeah okay. I’m just tripping out on this nerd right now. You do realize you’re still a loser, right Price? Fancy clothes and a haircut won’t change that. You know you’re nothing, you’re less than nothing.”

  Alan will never know what came over him in that moment. Maybe it was all the sugar in his punch. Maybe he was still high on the feeling Amber gave him when she walked up to him and initiated a conversation. Maybe it was all the years of ridicule and belittlement he had endured. Whatever it was, it pushed Alan over the edge. “You get off on making fun of other people. I’m not sure why. Maybe you honestly think you are better than everybody else is. I think that maybe deep down inside you’re insecure. Does it make you feel better about yourself as a human being to degrade other people?”

  The entire group, including Alan stood stunned. The band still played on in the background but all attention was on Alan and Brent. More and more students stopped to look, first stunned to witness Alan Price at the dance, next eager to see what the confrontation was about.

  Brent’s face started to turn red. A single vein bulged out of his neck ready to pop through his skin.

  Alan didn’t remember the first fist that hit him but he did feel the second, third and fourth as he regained consciousness. Brent Carson was on top of him raining down blows to his head and upper body. Alan did his best to shield his face but the blunt impact of each blow was more than enough to penetrate any defense Alan could put between him and his attacker.

  Soon Brent’s buddies joined in sending kicks that collided with Alan’s ribs and legs. Laughs, shouts and screams could be heard over the noise now. Looking back, Alan would remember that night as a haze, except for the part that came next.

  The dance’s chaperones must have seen or heard the commotion. In a few seconds, which seemed more like minutes to Alan, Brent and his friends were backing away as Dr. Larson and a few other adults made their way to Alan’s side.

  “Enough! Get off of him now!” Dr. Larson’s voice rang out strong and firm even causing the band to stop in the middle of a song.

  Alan was coughing, his face pressed against the gymnasium’s cold wooden floor. His insides felt like a Spartan army had trampled them. He struggled to sit up. As he gained a seated position, he looked up into Dr. Larson’s face and the faces of possibly the entire school.

  If it was possible, Alan’s heart dropped even further. Dr. Larson was by his side accompanied by two other members of the dance’s chaperon party, all wearing the same expression Tony had earlier that morning. An expression that said, “Yes, I am sorry for you, but most of all I wish you could be different.” In their eyes, Alan saw it all; pity, disappointment and the longing that he could be something more than helpless.

  There was murmuring all around him but one voice Alan caught through the crowd rung out the loudest in his ears. It was Amber Jacobson. “I can’t believe I was going to let that zero take me out, even if he does have a nice car. What a joke.”

  Alan was brought back to his waking nightmare by Dr. Larson as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Alan? Alan, can you hear me? Are you all right? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

  Alan struggled to his feet. Looking down to the tuxedo that was supposed to change everything, he saw that the expensive fabric was ripped and covered in punch and his own blood. “No, I’m fine.”

  “Alan, we should really get you checked out. You’re bleeding. I think—“

  “I said I’m fine!” He didn’t mean to yell but when he did, a hush covered the gathered crowed. In every direction Alan looked, he saw the same expression, pity.

  Alan had tried. He had done everything now. He had hoped that he could overcome his depression. He had hoped so desperately that he had done things that night that he never would have thought possible before, and he had failed.

  Blood still coming from his lip and pain oozing out of a dozen different locations across his body, Alan walked towards the front entrance. A path parted for him as dance attendees cleared away from him as if embarrassment and humilia
tion were contagious.

  Alan reached the front entrance slamming down on the metal bar that released him from the gymnasium and the nightmare he just endured. It was cold. The wind had picked up and now threw gust after gust at him. Alan was given a physical reminder of the blows Brent and his accomplices subjected him to only minutes before.

  What did you think was going to happen? You’re an idiot for thinking that anything would change. This is your life. This is never going to get better.

  Alan opened the car door, pressed the ignition button and stomped on the gas. Pulling out of the school parking lot, he could see Dr. Larson exiting the gymnasium. Her head was turning in every direction searching for him. Better than anyone else, she knew what he might do next.

  During their counseling sessions Alan had been careful to never use the word “suicide,” however he had brought up the idea of freedom more than once. Not necessarily victory, but freedom from the constant grinding battle to be normal, freedom from his depression, anger and loneliness, for it all to be gone.

  Alan sped out of the parking lot and lost sight of the doctor. He knew what he had to do now. He knew what he could do. Just as he had rationalized taking Tony’s car, he could rationalize himself now to take his own life. He had tried everything.

  Chapter 12

  Alan made his way to the downtown section just a few miles from the high school. His cell phone rang on and on in his pocket before he pressed the button to silence its vibrations.

  He didn’t even have to look to see who it was. He knew Dr. Larson would be calling him. She would probably even call Tony and the police if he didn’t answer. This didn’t bother Alan at all. He parked in the structure that led to one of the tallest office building in the business section of the city.

  Suicide wasn’t a daily thought that ran through Alan’s mind, still he thought about it enough to know that if the time ever did come, a jump off a tall building would be the best way to go.

  It was late and no one besides a security guard was in the building’s brightly lit lobby. Alan walked across the manicured lawn and decorative statues to the glass door. Without hesitation, he pulled open the door and walked through the immaculate lobby.

  Alan was so far past the point of caring he didn’t even give the security guard a second look as the large man addressed him, “Hey, can I help you?”

  When it was apparent that Alan wasn’t going to stop, the security guard stood up from his seat and spoke louder. “Hey, you. You can’t go back there.”

  Still Alan didn’t skip a beat. He walked straight to the shining elevator doors. His right thumb made contact with the button sporting an arrow pointing up. A short chime greeted him as elevator doors slid open on cue.

  Alan could hear the security guard’s running footsteps on the tile as the man spoke into his walkie-talkie. “Hey, Bob, we got an intruder. He just entered elevator—“

  That was all Alan caught as the doors slid shut and he pressed another button directing him to the top floor. Elevator music played in the background as the steel box ascended to the highest floor. Alan couldn’t help but notice the white rose the doctor had provided closely resembled his own state. The white petals were crumpled and wrinkled. Red dots of his own blood scattered themselves around the flower like the disco lights at the dance. “Hang in there, little guy,” Alan said to the flower. “It’s almost over.”

  Chapter 13

  The wind, maybe fate, had made the final decision for him, pushing him over the edge. Now moments from hitting the cement walkway, Alan knew he wanted to live, if for nothing else than to prove all of those faces of pity wrong. Anger, desire, the will to live awoke inside Alan as the ground rushed to meet him.

  Gritting his teeth Alan yelled at the ground, now only a few feet away. Then his downward momentum slowed. It felt like someone was lifting him, carrying him up. His forward progress continued to lose speed until it stopped completely. Alan had never used a parachute but he imagined the feeling would be similar.

  It happened so fast, Alan wasn’t sure what to think. Fear, confusion, a hundred feelings hit him at once. Alan hovered above the ground for a spilt second, then dropped the last remaining feet to safety.

  Chapter 14

  Present Day

  “Another drink, sir?”

  “Yes. In fact, can you just bring the bottle? I think that will be easier for both of us.”

  “I certainly can, sir—would you like to be informed of the price? I mean before I go get it.”

  He knew she was trying to be polite. Deep down he understood what was going through her head. She was doing the calculations on how much he already drank, in addition to the cost of the bottle. “No, I don’t need to know the price. Just bring the bottle please.”

  He caught the surprise in her eyes even as she turned to go. The server bobbed with a bounce of her blonde curls and was gone.

  He smirked to himself and brushed a dark blond strand of his own hair behind his ear. He could feel the expensive fabric of his tailored shirt press against his muscular chest and arms as he reached across the table for the book that lay face up in front of him.

  Reading the book alone looked out of place in such a high-end bar, even he realized that. The book reminded him of how he had felt as he made his own transition from plain and ordinary to, something else entirely. Something he was still trying to understand.

  He could feel eyes on him from the female patrons in the bar and the staff. He witnessed his server murmuring to her coworkers while grabbing the requested bottle of 1939 Macallan.

  The sheets in his book gently ruffled, his fingers touched familiar passages. The pages were like old friends. He couldn’t help but smile as he remembered exactly how many times he had read the book.

  The lighting in the bar was dim, which would have posed a problem to anyone else but him. The words were so familiar that he could see the print on the page as clearly as if he were sitting at a bench in the park during a bright midday out.

  He heard her before he saw her. “Here you are, sir. The most expensive bottle we have. I had to convince my manager that this wasn’t a joke but when I told him who ordered it he practically ran to fill the request.” She placed the newly dusted bottle of whisky on the table. “Do you come here often?”

  He put the book down, his blue eyes making contact with hers. “From time to time. Usually there’s a different waitress working.”

  “Oh, I’m part of the day shift. I’m just picking up extra hours.” Her eyes fell from his, hesitating too long on his muscular torso and rested on the book that was placed on the table. “Spartans, huh?”

  He nodded, “Spartans.”

  An awkward silence filled the space between the two as the attractive young woman grasped for a follow up line. A line she never had to use before; men had always felt obligated to fill the silence in an attempt to please her. “Ummm… can I pour the whisky for you?”

  “No, that’s fine you can leave the bottle.”

  She cleared her throat, once again at a loss for words. “If you don’t mind me asking, who are you? I mean the entire night staff seems to know you and I think every woman in here has asked about you since you sat down.” Her face reddened even as she asked the question.

  He looked at her; he really looked at her. She was pretty, young and carried herself like a woman rather than a girl. High energy and a steady smile made her not only attractive but even approachable. He didn’t blame her for the question. In all fairness, it was one that he had been trying to answer for the past four years. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll ever know. The last few years have been a blur of temporary happiness.”

  This was clearly not the answer she was expecting. “Oh, okay. Well, let me know if you need anything. My name is Sophia.”

  He nodded as she turned and left. Part of him wished he had been nicer, but it was the truth. Alan Price opened the costly bottle of whisky as nonchalantly as someone would open a water bottle. He poured hims
elf a generous portion. As the glass traveled from the table top to his lips, he thought back to the first night he realized that life would be more of a mystery than he ever thought possible.

  Chapter 15

  Four Years Ago

  Alan’s whole body tingled. He felt warmth emanating from the very core of his being. Air leaked slowly, almost painfully into his lungs as his mind fought for an answer. The fall that should have killed him, the plummet from the business building dozens of stories up left him standing on his feet rather than a stain on the cold cement ground.

  Alan’s eyes darted around him, above him, everywhere, anywhere that could provide an answer as to why he wasn’t dead. There was nothing that could have stopped him. Alan never felt so alone. No one would believe him even if he could explain what happened.

  He searched desperately for any pedestrians, anyone to confirm that he wasn’t crazy, that he had flown or at the very least hovered. There was no one. The business district that teemed with human traffic during the day was a desert of tall buildings and empty windows.

  Alan would have stayed there, stuck searching for an answer that seemed unexplainable if not for the wails of distant sirens. It came back to him in a second; the security guard on duty must have called the police.

  Waiting and trying to explain to the police what transpired seemed like a joke. Maybe they could have helped him but adrenaline was surging through Alan’s veins at a sickening pace. In that moment, he decided to run.

  Tuxedo jacket trailing behind him Alan ran away from the sounds of the nearing sirens and to a future that seemed more bleak and alone than ever.

  Chapter 16

  Going home wasn’t an option. In a weird kind of way, Alan felt like he was starting his life from the beginning. He had nothing. Any money he once had, he had spent on the tuxedo and haircut that night for the school dance. He was alone, vulnerable and, above all, confused.