CHAPTER ONE

We grew up in a small home—my brother, my mother and me. Money was tight in our family and half the time we didn't know where our next meal was coming from. We were just stuck at home, waiting, starving, and hoping for a meal to appear at our front door.

My mother did everything she could to take care of the family. At times, my mother had to sell her body just so she could feed us for the night. She would come home with a rotting salmon, cook it, then go to her room and cry herself to sleep. I hated seeing her like

this, so I took on the duty to provide for our family. I tried to do as much work as I could. I would shine shoes for the smallest amount of change and I would beg on the streets, hoping to get any a slim penny for my family.

At times I wanted to give up, but then I remembered my family. My mother's once beautiful golden curls turned white and her silver eyes turned to a dull grey. Only at thirty-five she began to grow wrinkles on her face. She had a horrible hunch in her back and she just always seemed so tired. My brother, at a stunted growth. He was always a sickly green and his brown curls seemed to lose color with everyday that passed. Then there was me, facing the least of it all. My dirty-blonde hair stayed its natural color and not losing much weight. I did have a scar on my cheek from a knife fight, but it was nothing really. The only abnormal feature about me really was the one blue and one silver eye. Some called it luck and some thought it was a curse, the reason for my family's poverty.

One day luck took me by the arm. Two boys, one named Isaac and the other Jeremiah—approached where I was, sat beside me and also began begging for money. Later that day, they took pity on me and brought me to the lake. They told me of the fish in there, fresh, and ready to be cooked. They spoke of diving into the water, grabbing the fish and frying them fresh. In that moment, I thought of them as mad. No one in their right mind would go into the infected waters where nuclear radiation haunted them. Ten seconds in there would leave you floating to the top of the water dead. The boys saw my facial expressions and knew what I was thinking. They then walked me around the lake and showed a small part of it, hidden from sight. The water there was different, it was clear.

Isaac spoke with confidence, "This here water is protected by an old dam. This water is in no way contaminated by the nuclear radiation. You are free to hunt with us and feed your family." A smile lit my face. No more of my mother selling her body to feed us. There was no more begging on the streets, and no more shining shoes for the smallest amount of change.

I wanted to go home to tell my family the news, but I was stopped by Isaac. "No one can know we're hunting. Promise not to tell anyone." I nodded my head in agreement and looked down at the ground.

"What will I tell my family when they ask where the food comes from?" I asked.

"Just lie to them," Jeremiah replied, "it's easy!" I nodded again, then began walking off. 'What was I going to tell them?' I asked myself. I couldn't think of an answer and just had to wing it when the time came.

On my way home I stopped by the local market. Since I didn't fish today, I bought a bunch of rotting bananas. 'This would have to do for the night.' I told myself. I made my way home to feed my family.

I began hunting with the others the next day. What was going to happen that day was something I wasn't prepared for. Jeremiah held me down while Isaac pulled my wrist toward him. I tried screaming for help, only to have Jeremiah stuff some fabric into my mouth.

Isaac pulled out a needle and a bottle of ink. I then knew where this was going. Many men at the local pub had the tattoos all over their bodies. They were usually of the wings of a Skyhawk, or phrases on the gills. They always looked painful to get, and I promised myself I would never get one. I guess my promise was about to be broken.

As soon as the needle tore through my flesh I felt as though my skin was being ripped right off my body. The pain was unbearable and I just wanted to die. This lasted for a few short moments until the tattoo was done. It then was a barcode with twelve numbers on it. Jeremiah then let me go and I pulled the fabric out of my mouth. It turned out to be a sock. I began yelling at them with every foul word in the book. They tried to calm me down and to get the reaction of me flaring my gills. My eyes glue red and they stepped back, in obvious fear.

"What is this!" I asked the two.

"A symbol," said Jeremiah.

"Our saying," finished Isaac, "It says Hunters, Brothers for Life."

"Brothers for Life," I repeated to myself. I spent that day hunting for my family and brought us each home a fresh fish for us to eat. I thought they would be happy at the sight of a decent meal, but instead found myself being questioned.

"Where did you get this food?" my mother yelled.

"I uh…" was my stuttering response.

"Despicable," my mother replied, "My son is a lying, no good, thief."

At those words I stood up and slapped my mother. "Don't ever make false accusations about me. All I did was provide for my family, and you make me feel like crap! " She just stood there stunned.

"What?" I continued, "You don't want a good meal? Do you want to feed on the tiniest scraps I got before? Do you want to see Darren grow sicker every day? What kind of mother are you!" I stormed out of the room and went to go lay on my cot. I was waiting for her to come in and apologize but didn't get a thing. I went to bed hungry while they split three fish between themselves. Eventually I forgave my mother, even without a sorry. It was just the right thing to do.

After that night, I spent every moment I could hunting. This was the schedule I lived by for four years of my life. I went from a twelve-year-old hunter to a sixteen-year-old killing machine. I wasn't ready to stop feeding my family, and I don't think I would ever be.