.
eBook
Available on Compatible NOOK devices, the free NOOK App and in My Digital Library.
Related collections and offers
Overview
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781462006311 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | iUniverse, Incorporated |
| Publication date: | 09/28/2011 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 602 |
| File size: | 799 KB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
The Book of Neophyte
THE AWAKENINGBy Stephen Alexander
iUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2011 Stephen AlexanderAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4620-0630-4
Chapter One
AN OPEN PALM GRASP OF DEFEAT
Rain pelts my body. The freezing cold droplets assault my skin like ice cold needles. The icy shards are most likely what had jolted my system awake. Glancing around, I'm alarmed to see that I am not alone. A crowd of onlookers surround me and they seem nervous and edgy. Cameras and cell phones flash randomly from every direction causing the scene to blink in and out of reality. These lights would cause even the least sensitive of epileptics to burst into seizure, but it just annoys the shit out of me. I cover my eyes and try to raise myself from the filthy concrete ground of an abandoned alleyway.
Wrapping my arms around my upper torso to try and warm myself up, I notice how sticky and slimy my naked body seems. Holy shit! I'm fucking naked?! I study my hands through the blurred haze that used to be perfect vision. Two red blurs become the blood-stained outlines that I suddenly recognize as my own hands. Looking through a gap in the crowd I see my reflection from the blackened window of a nearby building. My bare body is almost completely covered in blood. Most of it is dry and caked on but is now dripping off me due to the heavy fall of cleansing rain.
Unconsciously, I swipe my hands through my hair pulling the shoulder length, dark brown strands out of my eyes; while trying to wash the caked layers of blood from my face. 'Think hard,' I tell myself. Okay, my name is Michael? Yes. I'm Michael. Michael Archer. I'm twenty four years old. Yes, these light blue eyes are indeed mine. My strong angular face stares back at me and I recognize myself but it's not really me either. I look deep into the reflection and focus on my appearance. I wonder if this really is my reflection staring back at me. Maybe this is just an awkward dream. I've been having a lot of those lately. Dream or not ,I feel I really shouldn't be here. The sound of approaching sirens and the panicky voices of the spectators send a sudden burst of adrenaline into my system and I begin looking around for an escape route.
Scanning the area, I notice there are two possible exits. The first choice is behind me into the alleyway, or ahead; toward the approaching police officers who are just arriving at the scene. I walk slowly, trying not to make it look too obvious that I'm about to make a break for it; though it's rather pointless seeing that I am the only blood drenched naked man in the alleyway at the moment. It's kind of hard not to draw attention. I can just imagine what this looks like.
What happened last night? I've gone out drinking hundreds of times before and this has never happened. Either way, I'm the fuck out of here.
It's pointless to try and conceal my intent; people know what is about to happen and immediately they begin to try to restrain me. Breaking free, I ignore the taunts and threatening remarks of the crowd who are now assailing me with pure hatred. People fiercely throw bottles and other random objects at me, yet purposely missing me entirely in fear of what might happen if something actually strikes me. I don't exactly look like a sane man at the moment and must appear quite frightening.
I take flight and run like I never have before. Police officers threaten to shoot if I don't immediately halt and surrender myself. I was taught never to run from the cops. Everyone knows that if the police have to come and get you, they're bringing a severe beating along with them.
For reasons that are beyond my understanding I choose to ignore the order and take my chances seeing that I'm now a good fifty feet from them. I feel sudden, tiny gusts of wind from the bullets that dart by my naked flesh penetrating the brick wall directly ahead of me. Little clouds of rust powdered brick gracefully ping out of the wall as the bullets bite into its surface. I feel a sudden sharp stinging in my left ear and warm, fresh blood oozes into my ear canal.
Taking a sharp left, I am glad to be out of range of the distant gun fire but am then forced to turn right, then suddenly I come to a dead end. Gulping and sucking in a deep lungful of air; reality swiftly kicks me hard in the nuts because I now see no possible way out. I quickly roll some large dumpsters in front of the alley's corridors blocking the way and barricading myself as best I can. I scan the small space for anything that I can protect myself with but there's nothing but garbage and an old soaking wet couch.
Police crowd the other side and the dumpsters quickly begin to part as my heart races and I really start to panic. Before anyone can get a clear visual of me I shout in desperation.
'I have a bomb! Back the fuck up or we all die!' The dumpsters stop moving and panic floods the now dispersing crowd. I can hear scattering footsteps and the muffled voices of people being pushed over and trampled on. Humanity at its best! Survival of the fittest, I guess. The stronger people get to walk away while the smaller and weaker get trampled on. What a world we live in, huh? I sit on the nearby abandoned couch. The wet fabric feels cold on my ass cheeks as I crouch over and place my hands over my head, thinking of a way to get out of this nerve racking situation.
I have now bought myself some time, but how long exactly? How did I get here in this filthy alley this morning? How long was I lying there on the dirty pavement, asleep in the alleyway? Better yet, how the fuck do I get out of here? I pant hard as the cold hits my lungs in full capacity allowing me to see my breath as I exhale. Breathing has become difficult and I'm quickly draining of energy. The bomb squad should soon be on their way along with a SWAT team and the inevitable negotiator. What's gonna happen when they realize that there's no bomb? And I'm sure that even before they try to locate a bomb a sniper will ping me off from one of the easily accessible rooftops surrounding me. This is not exactly the ideal location for a stand-off.
There's precious time to think but I have to do something. I walk toward the barricading dumpsters trying to convince myself to just surrender. Better to give it up and perhaps spend the rest of my life in prison than receive a shower of gunfire from above. On the other hand, what kind of life awaits me behind bars?
If only I could remember what happened last night! Perhaps things really aren't as bad as I think. Oh, who the fuck am I kidding? I'm buck fucking naked, covered in blood and running from the cops. Even if things aren't really that bad, I made a fucking bomb threat! I'm sure I am now being considered a terrorist, and we all know how our beloved government handles scare tactics by terrorists.
I begin to roll the dumpsters out of the way when I notice a rusty, circular patch in the paved walkway; something that I had previously overlooked. I push the dumpster further to reveal the cover of a sewer entrance. My heart leaps with hope as I suddenly realize that this may not be the end after all.
Grasping the finger holes on the manhole cover I yank up hoping to pry it away from its' setting. It's heavy; really heavy. I'm not sure if it's the weight itself or my lack of energy that's causing me to struggle with this minor task.
With much effort I conjure what is left of my upper arm strength and slide the manhole cover to the side; leaving just enough room to slip through. I stare into the open blackness of the sewer and lower myself in, not entirely sure if I am just cornering myself but it makes more sense than waiting around for my inevitable capture or execution.
After climbing down the steel ladder I touch down into a cold, wet stream of sewer water. The smell is overwhelmingly disgusting so I do my best to try and breathe through my mouth hoping to avoid vomiting. Although I move quickly it doesn't take long for me to realize that I'm actually running through human excrement with bare feet. I'm soaked, freezing and minutes from a possible lifetime sentence. Could things really get any worse?
As I run through the lowered ceilings of the tunnelling system, I hear above me the sound of moving vehicles; music rattling the windows of nearby automobiles and random snatches of conversation. The normal sounds of the city pulse in and out as I run by each beam of light that reveals the urban landscape above.
I stumble and plummet down an unexpected waterfall into a pool of human shit. Never ask if things could get worse! Fighting my way to the surface I throw up under water. Chunks of vomit swipe across my face as I push myself forward. This is the most disgusting thing I've ever experienced! As I swim to the edge I wonder if it would have been better to surrender. Even if I get out of this alive, I'm doomed because all those strangers took pictures of me. They'll find me for sure. If I did all this for nothing I'm really gonna be pissed off.
My hand touches solid concrete so I try to gather the strength to keep moving. As I push myself onto the edge of the cesspool I vomit again and spit fiercely, trying to rid my mouth of the acidic taste. Suddenly I can hear police radios and dogs barking from the opening above. I quickly make haste through a large pipe but then I hear voices coming from in front of me as well. Not many, but more than one for sure. As I descend further into the tunnel, darkness surrounds me and I can no longer measure distance with any kind of accuracy. Ahead of me I can see the slightest glow of light allowing me to barely make out where I am going.
I come to a fork in the tunnel. The voices seem to be coming from the darkness on the left but there's a light off in the distance to the right; the source of the glow. I run toward the light with the last bit of energy I can muster. As I get closer to it I can see a ladder descending from an opening high above but I can hear footsteps and voices following me closely and I panic trying to reach the opening in time.
The footsteps are faster than mine but I keep running, clinging to every ounce of hope that remains and I stagger due to exhaustion but somehow manage to keep my balance. Mere metres from the ladder I spread an open hand out to grab the bottom step but a cloaked figure suddenly appears before the ladder in front of me, cutting me off before I even get there.
The cloaked figure raises a hand and spreads a particularly large span of an open palm. My body suddenly crackles stiff like concrete, instantly hardening and I can't move. Struggling hopelessly I try to get a glimpse of my captors' face but the hood of the cloak reveals nothing but a long, thin beard dangling from a chin. A hand grabs my shoulder and I spin around with a smooth glide. Suddenly I realize that I'm somehow hovering above the sewer floor; not very high; possibly a couple of millimetres because I didn't feel myself lift from the floor at all.
The cloaked figure studies me and I wonder what he's going to do to me. The figure raises a fist and I'm struck hard to the ground. I can move but barely. I try to lift myself but my arms give out and my head hits the wet floor, once again blurring my vision and I slip into a state of unconsciousness.
Chapter Two
A RUDE AWAKENING
I awake in a daze. I assume only a couple of hours have passed because I feel as though I've only had a few hours of rest. There's no way to tell for sure, due to a lack of windows in the tiny room in which I have awoken. There is no electricity but I am able to glimpse my surroundings because of a single candle flame illuminating from the bedside table next to me. I can't help but feel a bit claustrophobic due to the unusually small size of the room. The dirty, stained mattress beneath me gives as I sit up with a jolt; now aware of my surroundings and the dire consequences of a crime for which I have no recollection.
As I stand I notice that the floor beneath me is fairly warm. Raising a single foot in the candlelight I realize that I am fully clothed. I study my hands and touch my face, relieved by the lack of blood on my body. I have been washed, and somehow feel like I am in the presence of a welcoming entity despite the conditions in which I am now held captive. Perhaps this is a dream after all. Maybe it's night time and I am sleeping in a friend's basement unaware of what's really going on. It definitely wouldn't be the first time, but this place is unfamiliar, despite the welcoming vibes.
How many drinks did I have last night? It couldn't have been that many because my usual hangover is completely absent. On the contrary, I feel fine; despite the many questions as to where I am or the series of curious events that have led to my current situation.
Immediately my thoughts race seeking an escape plan and I head toward the door and attempt to open it. My heart sinks as I discover it is locked. There is no keyhole to peer through, therefore I have no way of knowing what lies outside this room. I examine the hinges of the door for any possible corrosion or weakness; nothing. I lie on my stomach to peer beneath the door and notice two shadowy forms which I assume belong to my captors. Rising immediately, I begin to pound on the door. The loud raps echo through the rather hollow room.
'Let me out! What the fuck is going on! Who are you? What do you want with me?' I get no answer; just silence. 'I know you're out there!'
Lying back down on my stomach I try again to see the feet of those outside the door. The dark silhouettes are gone. I look around me in search of an object to batter the door open with. Other than a bedside table and the solitary mattress lying on the elevated concrete slab in the corner, there is nothing else to help me. After several minutes of pounding on the door with my fists and feet, I begin to lose hope and slowly slide down to the floor in defeat. I focus my eyes on the single flame, the only source of light that will hold the key to my sanity depending on how long they plan to keep me captive. I see something sitting next to the candle holder which I hadn't previously noticed. It is a book. As I pick up the book the metallic lettering on the front cover reflects against the light of the flame. The words "Holy Bible" flash across my eyes.
'What the hell is this? Have I been captured by some religious nut?' Angry, I vent. 'You sick fuck! I want answers and I WANT THEM NOW!!' I throw the solid, heavy book across the room and it puts yet another dent in the steel door. This action finally brings a reaction with a loud bang that echoes off the walls.
The door opens violently, slamming the handle into the brick wall behind it. A figure enters the room pointing a gun directly at my head. I freeze at the realization that my life is now directly in jeopardy. The cloaked figure speaks. 'Don't move or I'll unload this thing into your fucking skull.' I realize it is a woman speaking and though threatening and dominant, I can't help but detect a delicate soothing tone from her.
She seems to be trying too hard to cover the distinct nurturing aspect of her voice. I'm just about to ask her to remove her hood, when a second much larger figure enters the room.
My eyes begin to water and I become very aware of an eerie feeling pulsating from the second figure. Something tells me that this one is not quite human. I begin to beg for my release. 'Please let me go! I haven't done anything to you.' I break down.
'What are you going to do with me?' Without a word the man steps forward; the back of his hand slams against the side of my face and I simply collapse on the floor. He then grabs me by the scruff of my shirt, removes his hood and stares into my eyes.
'Enough of your cowardly grovelling,' he says. 'Have some fucking self-respect.' The man seems to be fighting his temptation to bully me, but yanks me to my feet then steps back. I stare directly into an expression of annoyance. He appears to be in his mid-thirties, has thick eyebrows and a pale slender face. A long, thick goatee is braided into three long strands which reach down past his chest. His scalp has a very thin layer of freshly shaved hair and his lower lip is pierced with a ball and loop lip ring. The eyes are yellow like those of a wolf which gives him a very primal and vicious presence. Getting to my feet I have to crane my neck to look into his face as he is about a foot taller than I; which is staggering considering that I am around six foot one.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Book of Neophyte by Stephen Alexander Copyright © 2011 by Stephen Alexander. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.