Malice

Malice

1

Deep orange and purple spread across the horizon, broken up by the silhouette of marsh trees. Nate stood among Green tendrils that draped from a willow and they danced along the moist earth, pushed by a sullen breeze. Light spilled out of the shack where his brother hid. Flames swirled above the rim of a rusty barrel inside, sending an array of embers into the air through holes in the roof.

"Nate," Derek shouted, "Grab some more wood for the fire."

Nathan finished relieving himself and zipped his pants. He climbed a path, gathering fallen branches that littered the ground. He paused at the doorway, taken aback by the sight of his brother as light played across Derek's face. Shadows darkened the recesses of his eyes, and paled high features. It looked to Nate as though his brother's skull was stripped of flesh.

Twilight gave way to increasing darkness, as the swamp came to life. The stench of fetid moss carried on the winds. Bull frogs croaked, joining the song of the marsh, orchestrated by crickets.

"What the hell are you looking at?" Derek spat. "Throw the damn wood in the fire and get me a beer."

Nate tossed the branches in the barrel. Hot ash erupted from the bottom. Unbearable heat washed over his cheeks, and he retreated, throwing his hands over his face.

"You dumb ass," Derek said. Nate, feeling tiny, slumped his shoulders as his brother laughed. A waning cigarette seared his cheek, flung from Derek's fingertips.

Jerking his head back, Nate fought to keep his balance as he stumbled over the cooler. The styrofoam crumbled, and pain shot up his spine as he fell back. Ice and cans of beer spilled out. Nate scrambled to his feet. A chill rippled through his body as cold water soaked his pants.

"Hand me one of those beers," Derek ordered, motioning to a can. He pulled his hair back, exposing a skull earring dangling from each ear. The black locks laid over his shoulders to a red embroidered wolf on the back of his leather jacket.

"Get your own beer, Derek." Nate took a step back.

"What the hell did you say?" Derek hissed.

Nate cleared his throat, stalling the inevitable, "I said, get your own beer." His voice sounded weak, and he wished he hadn't spoken at all.

Derek drew his arm across his body and smacked Nate with the back of his hand, sending a wave of agony through Nate's neck as his head flung back. He careened into the barrel, knocking it over and sending blazing coals across the floor. Flames licked at the walls, crawling up the wooden surface.

Nate stood, and shook his head to clear his blurred vision. He stumbled out the door. Looking over his shoulder, he realized Derek was still inside, mesmerized by the flames as they snaked up the walls.

"Derek!" he shouted, drawing his brother from a trance. "What the hell are you doing?"

Fire spread across the doorframe, collapsing part of the threshold. Nate could only watch as it devoured the structure. He almost threw himself through the doorway to snatch Derek, but his brother leaped out of the shack.

"It's awesome, isn't it," Derek slapped him on the shoulder and spun around as the shack caved in.

Staggering away from the burning heap, Nate feared the fire would spread beyond the clearing. His face drawn tight by the heat, he flipped up the collar of his denim jacket. It was a feeble shield against the blaze.

"We better get out of here," Nate pleaded, sensing his words would fall on deaf ears.

"You gotta learn to relax," Derek said

"I need to get home," Nate replied. "Mom is at work, and she left chores for me."

Their mother worked two jobs to support them. Having ditched the family when Nate was three, their father was a fading memory. Rent extensions by an understanding landlord was the only reason they still had a roof over their heads. Derek bulked every time his mother asked him to get a job, and Nate hated that she wouldn't allow him the same responsibility. Dropping out of school in the ninth grade, Derek became a perpetual freeloader.

School work came easy for Nate, and he excelled in every subject. The six hours he spent at school was a welcome break from the strife at home. It was the only time Derek allowed him to be alone, and he wished the school day would never end. His brother didn't care if he was safe, it was a feeling of power over him that drove Derek.

"You ain't going nowhere." Nate cringed when his brother drew him close, "I got plans for us tonight. I don't give a shit what mom said." He loathed Derek when he talked about mom that way.

"Oh no, Derek," He sighed, "What are you planning?" Nate didn't really care to hear the answer, and he looked down at his tattered tennis shoes.

"You'll see," Derek replied. His brother stepped close to the fire and knelt beside it. He grabbed a lighter and a pack of marlboros from his pocket. He flipped open the zippo, igniting the wick. Derek inhaled and embers flared at the tip of his cigarette, accenting an onerous stare. Chaotic images flickered in his brother's pupils, reflected by flames that spiraled up from the ruined shack. Nate knew it was going to be a long night.

2

Nate sat alone on a curb in a seven eleven parking lot, a row of high bushes to his back. The street light hummed, and he stared into a miasma of flittering gnats. A fluorescent bulb flickered through a wound in the glass sign above the place, drawing his eyes to the building. Vibrant advertisements cluttered the storefront, hiding rows of merchandise inside.

Derek emerged from the bushes, startling him, and plopped on the curb. Nate recoiled, as his brother grabbed his hand and shoved a plastic card into it. Derek's fist, cold and clammy, left an impression on his flesh.

"Take this and the twenty I got from mom's purse and get us another twelve pack," He ordered. "I lifted that from some guy at the gas station. Just flash it to the clerk. He won't even look at it."

"Damn it, Derek," Nate thought to reprimand his brother for stealing from their mother, but thought better of it. "Why don't you go in there? They'll believe you, you're older." He braced himself, anticipating Derek's stabbing reply.

His brother's fingernails raked his skin, as Derek grabbed him by the neck, yanking him up. He felt like a child berated by his father, as Derek belted, "You're going in there because I said so. Don't fucking ask stupid questions. Bud Light and a pack of marlboro's will do."

Attempting to regain a small amount of respect, he jerked himself free of his brother's grasp. He wanted to bury his face in his jacket, taking shelter from Derek's unforgiving stare. The store door jingled and a man toting a gallon of milk exited.

"Alright, I'm going," Nate replied. There were worse things his brother forced him to do. He stuck the card in his pocket, fondling the raised lettering with his fingers. He stumbled over a concrete parking chock, as Derek shoved him toward the door. He caught himself with his hands, and tiny gravel stabbed his palms.

He wished he could silence the bell as he pushed the door open. All manner of candy displays and silly trinkets littered the clerk's counter. Making his way to the magazine rack, he had the sensation of being watched as he perused the periodicals. He randomly plucked one from a shelf, and the feeling of being scrutinized dissipated. Leafing through it, he scanned the store, ignoring the pages. He was alone with the clerk, who now leaned on the counter working a crossword puzzle. Eighteen and Life, by Skid Row emanated from a radio behind the clerk.

Nate put the magazine back, and walked to the rear of the store. Glass doors lined the wall, sealing the refrigerated section. Shelves of milk and juice, soda and energy drinks, beer and cheap wine, rested inside the compartments. Nate slid a door open, and a cold mist swirled along the floor, chilling him. The bell signaled another customer.

He grabbed a twelve pack from the cooler. The cardboard tore and Nate shoved his hand under the container. He tried balancing the weight to relieve pressure on the handle. The top ripped open, spilling cans of Bud Light on the floor. Thank goodness he was alone in the aisle. He suddenly realized he held his breath, and exhaled. Scooping the cans, he shoved all but one in the container. He straightened to search for the last can.

Dana, a girl from his school, stood at the end of the aisle. "You looking for this?" She smiled with full, supple lips, holding the can out to him. In her left hand she clutched two loaves of bread. Nate's heart pounded.

"Not really, I mean, yeah," He stammered, clenching his fists, feeling the sweat on his palms. "I am. Some idiot left this in the aisle. I wasn't watching where I was going and..."

"Wham," Dana interjected. "Cans flew everywhere and rolled down the aisle." She laughed and dropped the can in the box. Captivated by her beautiful smile, he forced himself to look away before she caught him staring.

"Yeah," he said. "Something like that." He set the box on the floor and pushed it against the refrigerator with his foot. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he rocked forward.

"You're Nathan, right," Dana asked.

"Yeah. Nathan, but call me Nate." He repeated the words in his head, feeling stupid for having said them. His mother named him after Saint Nathanael, who was believed to be incapable of deceit. Far from a saint, he could not live up to her expectations.

Fervent admiration overwhelmed him, and Nate smiled at Dana. He noticed her the first day of school, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw her auburn hair and friendly brown eyes. She smiled at someone, and a warmth washed over him. He could feel that heat now, awkward, yet comforting. Although he never spoke to her until now, she made him feel safe in her presence.

"Well, I'm here to get some bread." She lifted the loaves in front of him. "My dad's waiting in the car. I'll see you around, Nathan." She smiled, and he watched her walk down the aisle.

Nate reached out, and opened his mouth to call her name. White hot panic washed over him when he saw Derek peering in the window, his hands cupped on the glass. Those eyes, filled with hate, as they watched Dana move down the aisle, sent a chill through him. He followed Dana, hoping to sway Derek from doing something stupid, but knew it was futile.

Dana stopped at the counter, paid for the bread, and bidding the clerk good night, she made for the exit. Derek rushed over and pulled the door open, watching her pass through the opening.

"Thanks," Dana chirped, as she put some coins in her change purse. Nate wanted to come to her rescue, as she looked up, and stopped, stunned by his brother's stoic gaze. Derek stuck his tongue out at her, and wiggled it as he blocked her path. Nate stood behind her, and turned away as she looked over her shoulder when his brother winked at him. If he ever wanted to be invisible, it was now. She shoved her change purse into a pocket. Frozen by indecision, Nate could only watch.

His ears rang, as a horn blared, and a man climbed out of the car. Nate realized he was shaking, and a scintillating ball of adrenaline spun through him, as the man marched up to Derek and stood over him, glaring. "You let my daughter pass." Her father put a hand on Dana's shoulder, pushing her toward the car.

"Fuck you," Derek hissed. Nate lowered his head, but still managed to look up.

Dana's father balled his fists around Derek's collar. "You little shit," he said, clenching his teeth. "Do you honestly think I'm afraid of you?" Nate saw fear in Derek's eyes for the first time, and he wished he could do something, anything to help him. His chest pounded, and he willed his legs to move, but they would not comply.

Derek wrapped his fingers around the man's fists and tried to pull them free. Strong hands tightened on the collar, and Nate winced when the man shoved his brother to the ground. He squinted as Derek hit the ground, and gasped. Feeling terrible for not acting, he rushed to stand over his brother.

The adrenaline faded, replaced by sadness when he saw Dana hugging herself. Her father returned to the idling vehicle. He pointed to the passenger seat, "Dana, get in the car." She complied, as he climbed in the driver's seat.

The vehicle backed away and Derek grabbed Nate, pulling him into the shadows. Dejected, he allowed himself to be dragged from the light. He thought it must have looked like the shadows swallowed him, and he saw Dana watching. She wore a look of disappointment, as she shook her head, and Nate slumped against the wall. He had the sensation of a thirsty man watching the last of his water soak into the earth.


3

"Man, why do I bother with you," Derek scolded from inside the shed in their backyard. "You screw everything up, Nate. All you had to do was grab some beer, and you couldn't even get that right." His brother rummaged inside..

Dana's face burned in his memory, her smile a lasting imprint. She was nice to him, something he was not used to, being shunned when others realized he was Derek's brother. And that smile; so beautiful it stood out in a world awash with grey.

"Nate," Derek's voice sent a shudder through him. "Let's get out of here." His brother clutched a can of lighter fluid. Nathan, exhausted by lack of sleep, trudged along as his brother ran to a chain link fence surrounding their neighbor's yard. The darkness grew deep as a cloud passed in front of the moon. He tried to follow Derek, who leapt over the fence. Nate's pants caught on a piece of metal. He flipped over the barrier, and light erupted behind his eyes as he fell on his face. He thought he heard chain links rattle, breaking the silence. His head throbbed as he looked back into the yard. A light flicked on in the house, casting a pale rectangle on the ground. He struggled to his feet, shredding his pants, as Derek grabbed the back of his jacket, jerking him free. Sharp metal dug into flesh, sending a cold, burning sensation up his leg.

They fled, following the shadows when they could. Something wet ran over Nate's lip, and he swiped his mouth. The ridge of his hand tingled, as though warm ants scurried along it.

"Derek, hold on," he called out. "I think I'm bleeding."

His brother kept going, and disappeared behind a dumpster. A bong echoed inside the metal container, as he was flung against it, carried by momentum as Derek snatched him. His brother yanked him to kneel behind the trash container, he was too weary to fight it. His brother whispered, "You ok, Nate?"

"I'm fine." His nose throbbed, like a red hot beacon flashing in the darkness.

"Shit, you are bleeding," Nate, befuddled by the concern in his brother's voice, tilted his head back, as Derek pushed gently on his forehead. His eyes filled with tears, and pain rippled through his nose, as his brother pinched it. Nate saw blood trickle down Derek's palm, and nausea rose in him. His brother's eyes looked wide and alert, scanning the alley.

"It stopped. Are you alright," his brother asked. He lowered his head, meeting Derek's eyes. The chaos that dwelled behind them returned to the surface.

"Yeah, just a bloody nose." He turned away, not wanting to see the transformation back to an uncaring person.

Derek scooped the can, and Nate whirled when his brother prodded him. "Let's get going. It's after midnight. Time to get some pay-back."

"Wait, Derek," Nate pleaded. "What do you mean, pay-back?"

Derek dragged him from their hiding place, and he chose not to resist. His legs ached as they hurried down the alley, his brother picking a path that afforded the most cover. There was an urgency in Derek's pace, and Nate's lungs burned. When they emerged from the alley, he looked at unfamiliar surroundings. Derek shot across the street, and Nate followed. He was relieved when his brother stopped and knelt behind a row of hedges, looking at a large house atop a hill.

"This is it, Nate." He heaved as Derek shoved the can into his gut. "Don't screw this up."

Nate looked at his brother, who stared at the house, grinding his teeth. He closed his eyes, willing the image of Derek's hate filled visage to fade. When he opened them, his gaze fell on the vehicle in front of the house. Panic once again washed over him, as he realized it was the same car Dana and her father drove away in.


4

Derek slid the edge of his switchblade into the space between the door and the jamb. He pried the latch free, and the door popped open. Nate crawled up to peer inside the house. Like a cat, his brother slipped inside. A yellow glow highlighted a wicked grin, as Derek passed a sliver of moonlight that found it's way through a kitchen window.

The house was silent, as Nate crept along behind his brother. "I don't want to do this," he whispered. He knew he could not change Derek's mind. His brother ignored him, and climbed the stairs to the second floor. Nate followed, praying for an opportunity to stop this madness. It was the only reason he still followed Derek.

Nate thought for a moment to call out, waking everyone in the house. Dana's father could handle Derek, he'd proven that. But, how would Dana react if she saw Nate, a party to this intrusion? He had to think of something else.

Derek stuck his hand out behind him and wiggled his fingers, "Give me the lighter fluid," he whispered. Nate stared at the can, the word Flammable, in bright red lettering, jumped out at him. Bracing himself for what would come next, he said, "No, Derek. I won't let you do this."

His brother spun, flashing the knife in Nate's face, "Give me the fucking can!" Nate backed away, looking to the top of the steps. Someone had to hear.

Derek lunged and snatched the can, sending Nate tumbling down the stairs. Brilliant green and orange blobs exploded in his vision, and a wracking pain rattled his skull. Nate wrapped his arms over his head, willing the ache to subside. Blurry shapes flashed between his elbows, and sounds of struggle filled the foyer.

Something heavy and limp fell on top of him, and warm breath tickled his face. He pushed the lumpy form away, rolling with it, and realized Dana's father now lay next to him. The hair on his neck prickled, and he rolled over. Derek stood on the steps, his jacket torn at the collar and his breathing labored. Blood trickled down the sharp edge of the switchblade and dripped to form a tiny pool on his brother's boot.

Something sticky clung to his fingers, and Nate realized the red liquid covered his hands. Malice filled eyes frightened him, as he glanced up at his brother. He at first thought Derek stared at him, but realized his brother's pupils were fixed on something else. Nate tilted his head, looking behind. He scrambled to his feet when he saw Dana kneeling over her father in the foyer. She wore an over sized night shirt, and her hair was pulled back. She yanked on her father's arm, pleading with him to get up, but he lay still.

Nate reeled as his brother rushed past him, snatching Dana by the back of her shirt, and threw her against the front door. She gasped when her head struck the wood, and bounced off. He brought the knife to her neck, "Your daddy can't save you now, bitch." His raspy voice a whisper. Despair overwhelmed Nate as his brother thrust Dana against the door, again and again. She fought to free herself from Derek's grasp, but her hair wound tight around his fingers.

Nate glanced about, not sure what he looked for, and his gaze fell on a glass case sitting in the den left of the foyer. It resembled a grandfather clock without the timepiece. Above the case, the haunting skull of some large beast hung from a wooden plague. A thick, animal skin rug lay across the floor.

Derek's breathing, rapid and chaotic, filled the foyer. He knew his brother, and thought he had to be excited by Dana's fear, as she whimpered. He ran into the den, grabbing an umbrella from a hook on the foyer wall as he passed. Throwing his left arm up to protect his face, Nate shattered the glass case with the tip. He grabbed a revolver that hung between two hunting rifles. A thud drew his attention back to the foyer. Dana lay on the floor, thrown down by his brother.

Derek stepped over her, and held the knife in front of his face. Nate watched his brother's eyes follow the blood covered edge. Dana raised her head and peered between Derek's legs. Tears ran down her cheeks, and courage rose inside Nate as her pleading eyes met his. He leveled the gun at Derek. Glancing into the chamber, he realized the gun was loaded. A mixture of fear and new found power filled him.

His heart raced, as Derek reached down to grab a handful of Dana's hair. She screeched, and his brother laughed, pointing the knife between her shoulder blades.

"Derek!" Nate shouted. "I can't let you do this. Put the knife away and let's get out of here. I don't want to shoot you."

A wave of anxiety rose in him, as Derek drew his arm up, threatening to plunge the blade into Dana's spine. His brother's eyes that once held Nate in check, had no power here. Not in the presence of Dana, when it was her he threatened to hurt.

"Get out of here, Nate. Let me finish this." His brother's words sent a wave of regret through him, as Nate realized what he had to do.

Nate stepped through the threshold into the foyer, and looked directly into his brother's pupils, "I saw the evil in your eyes, and I always looked away, Derek. This time, I can't do that." He squeezed the trigger.