Alan followed the woman’s clacking high heels and scent of designer perfume through the huge kitchen, four bedrooms, three bathrooms, family room, living room and dinning area one last time.
“It’s great,” Alan said mustering a grin, “I’ll take it.”
The woman gave Alan a Cheshire cat smile, practically taking out her notepad and doing the math on her portion of the commission right there. “Great, so glad to hear it. I’ll be right back I need to run down to my car and grab a few items for you to sign.”
Alan nodded as the woman turned with a twist of her long curly hair and hurried out of the penthouse as if she were afraid he would change his mind.
Alan walked in and out of the rooms, wondering why he wasn’t happier. This was something he always wanted. As far back as he could remember a place to call his own had always been out of reach. Every time he left a group home or foster parent he would imagine a place that he wouldn’t have to leave. A place just like this, that belonged to him with him being the one to say when he was ready to leave or not.
Until now the reality of owning a home, his home, was like a vapor that was grabbed at but extinguished as soon as he opened his fist. He was here now: to an extent happiness did exist, but it was the kind of happiness Alan was telling himself he should experience rather than actually experiencing the feeling itself.
He walked through the large penthouse as he waited for the real estate agent to return. His designer shoes echoed across the halls. Empty rooms caught his every noise and amplified them back as if to remind him how alone he still was and would always be. Alan made his way back to the large windows that looked over the city.
Past all the high-rise buildings, past the glare of the bright sun, Alan caught a reflection of himself, tall and slender. Money could only improve so much. Past the luxurious clothes and haircut, Alan shook his head at his reflection.
Sure, you have money and a place now but something is still missing. Apparently super speed doesn’t come with any muscle tone. You’re still that skinny kid that couldn’t stick up for himself. We need to fix that.
10
Present Day
Why are you even stressing over that? She was clearly crazy. Angels? Like flying angels with wings, really?
Alan shook his head and made an internal decision to stop thinking about the strange conversation that night. However, as he rode the smooth elevator to the top of the high rise, his hand fell inside his jacket pocket. His fingers made contact with the phone Danielle left him. The lights to passing floors beeped by and with every second Alan could feel anxiety build. “One look won’t hurt,” Alan said to himself.
The phone was slender and compact. It was one of the newest models available on the market. Alan remembered seeing an advertisement for it just the other day. The commercial with the girl and the family with the pet smiling and laughing as they opened apps for music and videos.
The phone lit up under Alan’s touch. A plain white background with an icon marked “Messages” that jumped up and down on the screen. Alan swiped his thumb over the icon and a single message read, “Danielle” with a number that followed after.
Alan’s thumb bent toward the number more out of instinct than will. The only thing that stopped his thumb’s progress was the soft halt of the elevator and a dinging sound as the elevator doors slid open.
Alan stuffed the phone back into his pocket and shook the idea that he should call the number out of his head. When he raised his eyes to look down the hall to his penthouse door, he stopped in his tracks.
He always left his door closed. Always. Living on the run at an early age and having to look over his shoulder on a daily basis instilled the habit of locking up after himself.
His door was cracked open. Alan made his way down the hall. He could hear music coming from his penthouse.
Carmina Burana: O Fortuna played in the background. Alan only recognized the song because he owned it. It was music that inspired him and one of the few things along with reading and exercise that helped when his depression was at its worst.
The idea to run or report the break in to the police crossed his mind but only for the briefest of moments. Any contact with the police would be bad. There were too many questions that could arise. Although he was assured that his purchased identities were solid, by the less than upstanding citizen he bought them from, he didn’t want to test the theory.
Alan wrapped his peacoat tighter around him and prepared himself to take off at a sprint in a moment’s notice.
Alan’s hand made contact with his thick wooden door. It swung open without a sound. He wasn’t sure what to expect, nothing happened. His penthouse looked normal. Everything was in place. No signs of break in, no items strewn across the floor or broken.
Smells of cooked meat and the sounds of someone busy in the kitchen made Alan’s heart rate accelerate. Alan left the door wide open in case he needed to bolt down the hall. He quietly tiptoed through his family room, past his makeshift exercise and weight room and into the kitchen.
Adrenaline pumped to every inch of his body. Alan’s mouth was dry as he turned a corner and was met with the sight of a slender man with his back toward him. Whoever he was, he was busy at work. A towel draped over one shoulder, he was hunched over the stove.
“If I was going to hurt you, would I be cooking you dinner? Mmmmm… let’s think here. No, probably not.”
Alan stopped and almost ran just hearing the sound of the man’s voice. It sounded like a salesmen and dripped past the man’s lips in a way that would put anyone on edge. Alan hadn’t made a sound coming in, he was sure of that.
“What do you think of my music selection?” He turned and winked at Alan. “It’s a personal favorite of mine, so inspiring and uplifting. I would listen to more but you know how it is, all work and no play.”
Alan stood tensed as he examined the intruder. He was tall with an inviting smile and dark hair. His wardrobe would have put any A-list celebrity to shame: button-up shirt with a light blue vest and slacks. A spatula covered in red sauce that reminded Alan of blood, held poised in his right hand. Alan’s eyes widened as he examine the man’s feet. “Are those my slippers?”
“Oh, yes, my bad. My feet were killing me. I’m going to have to murder the shoe sales associate that pointed them out. By the way these things are like walking on clouds, pure orthopedic bliss. Do you know if they come in Tiffany Blue?”
Alan’s face answered for him as the man moved the conversation along. “Well, enough about me. I hope you’re hungry. Dinner is about done. Let’s sit at the table like civilized folk.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is—well, you know all about this, Alan. Known by one name here a different one there. But since we are going to be such great friends, I’ll let you in on the secret and tell you. My real name is Dominic Drencher. ”
Dominic was talking so fast it took Alan a moment to realize what he said. “I need you to leave right now. Put my spatula down and step away from my stove.”
Dominic ignored Alan and instead turned back to the sizzling food. He opened cabinets and drawers as if he was in his own home. He ignored Alan’s demand as he plated dinner for two. “I’m going to overlook that rudeness and serve us instead.”
“If you don’t leave, I’m going to call the police.”
“Empty words goldilocks. You want the police here even less than I do.” Dominic picked up two plates loaded with food and walked past Alan toward the dinning room. “Follow me. You know you have to. I’m not leaving you much of an option. Once you’ve heard what I have to say, then I’ll leave.”
Alan’s slippers disappeared into the other room. Confusion more than anything festered in Alan’s mind. He wanted the strange man to leave but not as much as he wanted answers.
Alan had a strong feeling that this had something to do with Danielle and her crazy story about angels. Before he could put more thought into his actions Alan found himself walking to join Domi
nic at the table.
“There you are. I thought you’d come,” Dominic said.
The table was set, wine poured. On each plate was a generous helping of steak and spaghetti. His intruder wasted no time in opening his napkin and shoving food into his mouth.
Alan pushed his plate away from him as he took a seat on the opposite side of the table. Despite Dominic’s elegant appearance his table manners were anything but appropriate. Fork load after fork load was stuffed into his mouth and what was worse, Dominic didn’t stop talking while he ate.
With a deep sigh and a mouth full of food he started. “So listen, I know you were visited tonight by that hot little number, Danielle. She’s cute right? Has that whole mousy nerdy girl thing working for her. Anyway. she’s offering you answers and I’m sure she seems all sunshine and flowers but believe me, you don’t want to trust her.”
“Why not?”
Dominic let out a deep burp. “First off, her organization’s benefits are horrible. Practically no sick days and you can forget about holiday pay. I’m offering you a chance at real freedom. I have all the answers you’ve been looking for and an opportunity to join my organization.”
“I’m listening.”
“Are you going to eat that?” Dominic was pointing a dinner knife at the plate of food that sat in front of Alan.
“No, be my guest.”
Dominic licked his lips and accepted the plate from Alan. “Let’s see, where was I?”
“You said you had answers.”
“Oh, yes. Well, what did the doe-eyed beauty tell you?”
Alan thought back to the conversation with Danielle just hours before. Even as he spoke the words, it dawned on him for the dozenth time how ridiculous the whole thing sounded. “She said—she said that I’ve been chosen, that I’ve been given my power for a reason. She said that… angels gave it to me.”
Dominic practically choked on his food. He reached for the glass of red wine in front of him and downed the entire serving before he shrugged. “Well, I guess they are in fact angels in a sense. Although I wasn’t aware they were going by that name again.”
“Again?”
“Yes, ready for story time Mr. Price?” Dominic didn’t wait for a response but instead wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood from his chair. “On second thought, I’ve been at this long enough to know when someone is going to join me and when someone won’t. You’re not going to side with my organization no matter what I say. I should just kill you now.”
Alan was nervous and wary the entire dinner, now his muscles tensed again. Panic gripped his heart. He knew he should have gone as soon as he saw Dominic. Something inside, some moral compass warned him but like all the times before, he chose not to listen.
Alan’s heart was pounding in his ears. His hand made contact with the phone still in his pocket. Alan said a silent prayer as his right thumb blindly maneuvered around the face of the phone.
Alan stood trying to buy himself time. “You need to leave now.”
Dominic lifted his eyes to the ceiling and tilted his head side to side as he spoke out loud to himself. “But you did provide dinner and these ever so comfortable slippers. So, in all fairness I should probably let you off with a warning and beating. What do you say? That’s a fair trade, right? Your life for dinner and slippers.”
Alan had heard enough. With a twist of his hips he was off. Sprinting out of the dining room he called on his speed to deliver him from his intruder’s sadistic plan.
No one had ever been as fast as Alan. Nobody was capable of traveling at the speed his legs carried him. When Alan felt the grip on his shoulder, when Dominic’s hand twirled him around in a half circle, Alan couldn’t comprehend what was happening.
“Don’t tell me you thought you were the only one. Oh, you did?” Dominic laughed. “Let’s see if along with all those muscles you know how to fight.”
It was clear Alan didn’t, as fists connected with his face and torso. Alan tried putting up his hands, he tried holding Dominic back, but his attacker was too strong. Along with extraordinary speed, Dominic was stronger than anyone Alan had ever come across.
Alan’s mind flashed back to the night he fell from the building. The beating he took at the hands of Brent Carson and his lackeys at the school dance. Even now with all of his money and speed history was repeating itself.
In the span of a few seconds the fight was already over. Blood ran down Alan’s forehead and mouth. He could taste the bitter metallic tang as his own blood hit his taste buds. His ribs ached with pain indicating they were either severely bruised or broken. Alan was struggling to make it to his feet when another vicious strike connected with his left temple.
“Apparently, you still have a lot of growing to do,” Dominic said stepping away from his victim. Alan looked up through blue eyes and strands of his long hair to see Dominic cleaning his own blood off his hands. “When Danielle comes and tries to make everything better, tell her I said, ‘hello’.”
Already on his knees, Alan couldn’t hold himself up. His vision was blurring and Dominic’s voice came in and out. Without any control over his body, he fell face first onto the kitchen tile. The last thing Alan remembered seeing was a pair of feet wearing slippers walking away.
11
Present Day
There was a beep and then another and another and another. Alan opened his eyes, saved from a nightmare he couldn’t remember. He was lying in his bed. To his left a heart rate monitor beeped along at a steady pace.
At once the events leading up to his unconsciousness overwhelmed him. He sat straight up in bed immediately regretting the decision. His face and upper body felt like they had been put through a meat grinder. Alan grunted and fell back into his pillows as blinding pain exploded in his head.
The heart rate monitor spiked at Alan’s actions and the beeping sped up in tempo. Alan closed his eyes trying to take in deep breaths, hoping that would calm the monitor and pain. It didn’t.
As he was staring at the ceiling, he heard his door open. Alan craned his neck forward despite the pain. Danielle walked towards him with a frown. “How are you feeling?”
Anger rose in Alan’s chest. He didn’t know why, but he blamed Danielle for what happened to him. “How am I feeling? I feel like some psychotic chef broke into my place and beat the snot out of me while wearing my slippers.”
Danielle’s eyes widened behind her glasses, “Okay then, not sure I deserved that one but you’ve been through a lot. I get it—misdirected anger.”
Alan stared at her already regretting his snarky remark. “What happened to me? Who was that guy?”
“I got here as soon as I heard the conversation over the phone, smooth move calling me by the way. From the muffled voices I guess I was in your pocket?”
“Yeah.”
“Nice. By your description of the man who did this to you, it was probably Dominic Drencher. Everyone calls him Drench.”
“Who was he? What did he want with me?”
“He’s part of our rival organization—“
Alan couldn’t take all the talk of “organizations” anymore. Not when Danielle had already told him they were dealing with angels. “Enough with the organization talk. I can’t believe I’m saying this—we’re talking about angels and demons, right?”
Half of Alan already knew the answer; the other half wished that this was all some kind of sick, twisted dream. He wasn’t so lucky.
“Yes, however there is so much you don’t yet know.”
“Then tell me!” Alan hadn’t meant to yell, still his frustration demanded he do so.
Danielle gently began removing the heart monitor from Alan’s chest. Sticky pads gently released their adhesive grip on his fair skin. “I’m going to take you to speak with someone who wants to meet you. He’ll explain everything. I promise. I also want to show you something now to start preparing you for the conversation you’re going to have.”
Alan looked at her, confusion written a
cross his face. “I don’t think I’m in any kind of condition to travel anywhere right now.”
“I would agree,” Danielle said. “You know how you have the gift of speed?”
Alan nodded wondering if she was going to say that she had the same gift and was going to carry him somewhere.
“Well, I also have my own set of gifts. One of them is healing. I wanted you awake for this so you would believe me. You don’t strike me as the type to take things on faith. Hold still.”
Alan couldn’t believe his ears. He felt his body flinch as Danielle put her hands on his left bicep.
“Don’t worry this won’t hurt.”
Alan felt far from reassured. Bare chested, Alan looked down on his torso for the first time. Mean looking bruises of green and black fought for real estate against his skin. His body was a canvas of dark splotches and pain.
Goosebumps rose as Danielle closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. At first Alan felt nothing. His body ached just like it had since he woke and his head throbbed like someone was beating on it with a hammer.
Then things started to change. Alan felt warmth radiating out of Danielle’s hands, spreading from his arm to the rest of his body. Heat came off her and pushed back the pain that coursed through his chest and head. It was the same kind of heat that Alan experienced when he ran.
For the first time in a very long time Alan felt happy. A safeness that he couldn’t explain was slowly wrapping itself around him. Alan’s eyes widened as he visibly saw bruises fading.
The ache in his chest was lessening and the warmth spread to his head. Instead of a throbbing headache, Alan felt calm and relaxed. A few moments later when Danielle lifter her hands from his arm, Alan debated asking her for more.
He looked at her with awe and a newfound respect. She took a careful step back away from the bed and let out a deep breath. The slightest hint of sweat glistened across her brow.
“Does healing hurt you?”
Danielle opened her eyes and shook her head. “No, but it’s work. Imagine lifting a heavy weight. The harsher the injury, the heavier the weight I have to lift. You should be healed now. I hate having to make you wait for answers. Just trust me, you’ll have them soon. Come on. Let’s get you ready, Michael is waiting.”
Zero II Page 3
