The interrogation room was cold and unforgiving. Zeke sat snivelling in one corner, his massive hands cradling his head. His feet were splayed out before him, both all but torn completely from their respective ankles. He'd had a working-over, that was for sure, but I wasn't sorry. Zeke had tormented me from day one simply because he was bigger and older and smarter. Well lookie how the tide has turned, buddy. I'm not Farty-Artie anymore. You can call me just plain Arthur now because I am finally your equal... No. I'm your superior. It took some doing, but I've finally beated you into submission, brother. Scared?
I squatted down beside his hulking frame and wiped his blood from my knuckles onto his shirtfront. I heard his breath quicken. I could tell what he was thinking. It was just as clear as if he'd spoken it out loud: Here it comes, that final blow that will send me straight to Kingdom Come. I watched my reflection in his watery beetle-black eyes.
"Well, Zeke," I said, offering him my hand. "Do we have a deal or not? Your life for the location of the Legion."
He opened his mouth, breath whistling through the gaps where I had knocked out his teeth earlier. I knew what he was going to say before he said it, had known since before I took him into this room and beat the crap out of him. We didn't have a deal.
"No deal," Zeke wheezed. He shut his eyes and leaned his head back onto the gray cinderblock wall behind him.
I sighed and hung my head. A look of mock pity melted my features. "It's too simple for you to wrap your fat head around it!" I said to him. "Do I have to make this harder so you'll finally give up this stubborn act?"
He didn't answer, just sat there panting like the animal he was.
I reached into my jacket pocket and pulle dout a dog-eared Polaroid photograph. Zeke's eyes grew wider as he gently padded his pocket. He stopped breathing and stared at the photo. I had him right where I wanted him and I felt downright giddy about it.
"I lifted it," I told him, reveling in the crestfallen look on his swollen face. "Right when we first met outside that bar tonight. You've taought me well, brother." I glanced down at the photo in my hand, running my fingers on the image of a small girl in a pale pink dress, her wicker basket of Easter eggs clutched tightly in her gloved hands; my niece, Rochelle.
"I'd hate to have to hurt her. She's so beautiful," I said, showing him her smiling face and the blood trails my fingers had left across it. "We've never even met, but I know she'd like me. I imagine she'd think me a... funny uncle." I laughed in his face, spattering him with my spittle.
"Don't you dare!" Zeke said, mustering up a last ounce of vehemence, just like I expected he would.
I curled my fist around the photo and punched him. His nose crunched beneath my hand and his head snapped back and hit the wall. I hope he saw more than just stars: I hope he saw whole constellations, planets, universes.
"So," I said as he squeezed his eyes shut and grabbed at his nose to try and staunch the flow of blood from his nostrils. "Do we have a deal... buddy?"
"Okay, okay," he gasped. "Deal." He held out a trembling hand.
I grinned. "Great." My palm slapped his, passing off the now hopelessly crumpled photo of his daughter. he hugged it against his chest and breathed a sigh of relief. He shouldn't get too comfortable. I was only just warming up. No, Zeke wouldn't leave this room alive, but he just didn't know that yet. Who was I to dash his hopes?
I leaned in close until I could taste his stale breath on my lips. He stunk of beer and vomit. "Where's Dad, Zeke? Where's the Legion?"
Zeke took a deep breath. "Dad's - "
"Don't say another word, Ezekiel."
My blood ran ice cold in my veins at the sound of Dad's voice just behind me.
I rose slowly, keeping my eyes locked on Zeke. That traitor had the nerve to smile. He thought he'd won again, but he was wrong. God, he was wrong.
I reached into my pants pocket and pulled out the knife concealed there. I hadn't had to use it 0n Zeke; brute force alone had done the trick well enough. I pressed the safety latch up and the blade snapped out.
"Looks like our deal is void, Zeke. I get to kill you after all," I said to him; then, to our father, "It seems you've ferreted me out. Thanks. You've just made my job so much easier. You know what they say about birds and stones, right?"
I turned to face the man who had created me. The man who had stolen my life, my love, my family away. The man I hated above all others.
His eyes were still the deep navy blue that I remembered and were hidden behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. His hair had grayed since the last time I'd seen him and had thinned considerably. He was dressed as he had always dressed: in a button-down shirt and rediculous tie. Today, it was forest green with tiny hammers on it. He didn't look like an assassin. On the contrary, he looked more like a science teacher. But the gun in his right hand aimed at my stomach said otherwise.
"Ezekiel," our father said, looking down at his eldest son.
"He threatened to kill Rochelle!" Zeke whined, appealing to our father like he'd really care. It'd only taken me five years living with that man to realize that he didn't have an ounce of compassion for family in his body. Zeke had been around him much longer than I had. Hadn't Zeke known how callous and unfeeling out father truly was? I could almost feel bad for my brother if he really was that stupid.
"I said not another word!" Dad yelled.
Zeke fell silent at once. He had always feared our father, just as I had once.
Dad turned his gaze upon me. "You think killling me would give you all the answers, do you?" he asked.
"My mission is to locate the Legion," I said smoothly, but I could tell he didn't believe me. He never did.
"Julia doesn't want anything to do with you."
"Who said I wanted to see my wife?!" I screamed at him, advancing a step and raising the knife. "I want to know where the Legion is so I can burn it to the ground."
Dad paused and stared at me, squinting his eyes in scrutiny. "Look at this monster I've created, Ezekiel... I always knew you were the better son. What went wrong with this one?"
A snarl of rage escaped through my clenched teeth. Stupid old man! Didn't he understand that it wasn't me who had gone wrong, but him? I was never strong enough, fast enough, smart enough. He never saw my potential. To him, I was just a kid standing in the shadow of his big brother, his glorious, saintly, prefect big brother who wouldn't know true power if it slapped him in the face. It was my father who pushed me towards someone else I could look up to and learn from. Someone else who nurtuted my natural talents and created this so-called monster you see before you. And I'm powerful, Dad. I'm great. I'm better than I ever could have hoped had you never abandoned me. And I think if you'd stop feeding Julia your lies, she's believe me and come crawling back on her belly, begging me to take her back because you are nothing compared to me. Bow to your master, old man, and admit defeat at the hands of your superior.
"You're the monster, not me," I spat as I lunged forward with the knife.
He pulled the trigger. The gun went off before I had the chance to think. the bullet ripped through my stomach. I staggered and dropped the knife. I felt Zeke scrambling for it behind me, but I didn't care. Nothing he could do to me with that thin blade could compare to the agony in my gut.
My hands went to my abdomen and came back sticky with blood. My blood this time, not Zeke's. It took a second for it all to sink in before I fell to my knees with a groan. Blood trickled from my lips. "Son of a..."
I tried to look up at my father, but my eyes wouldn't focus. Darkness was closing in on me from all sides and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't will it away.
Dad squatted down before me and got in my face, like I had gotten in Zeke's back when I had been in control, back when I had been powerful.
"We all know that monsters do best, don't we, Arthur," Dad whispered. "Kill."
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