A Lost Heart

Chapter one

    "Kaleb grab the poles on your way out!"
    I grasp the two fishing poles near the hunting closest and head out to where my dad and little brother, Ben, are waiting. Tossing them into the bed of our truck, I hop into the passenger's seat, slamming the door behind me as Ben tries grabbing it. He gives me an annoyed look through the glass.
    "Aw come on! You know I called shotgun!" He glares at me.
    "Quit your fussing and get in."
    "You are so unfair! You know that?"
    "Just shut up." To make my point that I was done talking to him I lock my door.
    Ben sulks to the back of the truck and gets in, keeping his mouth shut but his eyes still shooting daggers. I roll my eyes in the rearview mirror. Ben is sixteen and as stubborn as they come. I love my brother, honestly I do, but brothers being brothers, he is still a pain in my butt. My brother and I could not be any more different. While we may look the same, with naturally tousled, golden blonde hair, keen royal blue eyes and an athletic build, we almost have nothing in common. He is a sophomore while I am a senior. I play football, star captain of our team, while Ben does varsity basketball. Ben loves girls. He loves talking to them and getting numbers that he never really intends on ever calling back. He is naturally smooth with flirting while I suck. The only girl I ever got the guts to talk to is my present girlfriend, Amara. Amara and I started dating after I asked her out at the library last year. I had started noticing her around school. She was cute and kind, smart and fit. She made you smile and always had something perky to say. My fellow football jocks joked around that I, a jock, was dating the school nerd. Amara didn't mind so neither did I.
    I fiddle with the keys while my dad stands outside talking to his new wife, Lisa Spires Gorge. God I hate her. She's all business and uptight, hair always slicked back in a bun, pantsuit straight. Don't even know how her and dad agreed to marriage. Dad is a hunter, loves it, lives it. His day job is working at a bar downtown that doesn't pay much. So money being the reason for their marriage is out of the question.
    How ever it came about, they got married last spring. A little less than a year ago, and ever since then my life has been hell. She hates Ben and I. Dad says I'm being overdramatic, but when she has her back turned to him I'm pretty sure she is planning our murder. When dad isn't home she yells at us, calls us pigs and says if we had the money we would be at a year-round boarding school. That makes me glad we're broke.
    My dad pecks her on the cheek and comes to the truck. Waving one last goodbye, he climbs in and holds his hands out for the keys. I toss them over and he catches them, shoving them in the ignition. We slowly begin to back out the driveway.
    "Dad, Kaleb won't ever let me have the passenger," Ben starts complaining. "I'm always stuck with the seat with a crappy belt." He pulls the seat belt that unclicks voluntarily for emphasis. "It's unfair."
    "Life's unfair," I huff.
    "Yes, but it can at least be justified." Ben's favorite line.
    I roll my eyes and put my feet up on the dash, staring out the window. Out of the corner of my eye I see my dad glance at me and then back to Ben.
    "Boys," he begins, "can we have one trip where I don't have to deal with any bickering? Just one?" Ben and I stay silent.
    "We can make this a good weekend away from everything. School, drama,"
    "Your wife," Ben says under his breath.
    "But this trip will be all for not if you two can't get along. You're brothers, not mortal enemies. You used to never fight."
    "But then mom died," I whisper and my dad's eyes freeze on mine. So do Ben's. It's ghostly silent as my dad slowly peels his eyes away from mine and looks back at the road. He takes a shaky breath.
    He starts slowly, "her death, should not have affected your boy's relationship. That's an excuse. An excuse, Kaleb, that you have been using since the accident."
    The accident. The term we use on the rare occasions that we speak of mom and what happened. It wasn't an accident. We weren't prepared. And it was our fault. Not an accident.
    "Dad. . ." I rub my temples. Just had to open my mouth. I already know what's coming next.
    "No, Kaleb, it's been two years since. . . it happened. And you're still blaming whatever wall you run into because of it. Your grades, your attitude, last summer. . ." It was my turn for my eyes to go as hard as steel. The one thing we talked about less than moms "accident" was last summer.
    Ben is quiet in the backseat, his eyes staring at his hands. My dad will not look at me as I stare at him. My heart is pumping and sweat as formed above my brow as I remember last summer. Ben doesn't know quite what happened, I made sure it stayed that way, but he knows something bad happened. Something I refuse to talk about. Dad knows it.
    We sit in silence for another thirty minutes. The only sound is the truck's engine humming and the radio playing some old 80's classics. Outside, the woods look quiet and calm. I can't wait to be out there. With a gun, the smell of cedarwood surrounding me. I love the football field, but the woods are where I feel alone. Just me and my prey.
    Dad first took me hunting when I was ten. I just got to watch from a safe distance while he took down one deer after the next. It wasn't until I was twelve that I got my first chance to take down my own game. A rifle for my birthday, dad and I headed out and I had killed two deer and a pigeon in just three hours. Ben, he likes hunting but he would much rather be on the court shooting hoops or picking up a game of three on three. Dad tried getting him to come hunting more often but with little success. After the "accident" dad wouldn't take no for an answer and Ben had to come whether he liked it or not. I stare at him now, sitting playing on his phone and wondering what he would be like if he had a mom still. I often wonder about that for myself but for Ben, it has never entered my mind.
    Thunder rumbles overhead and rain starts pelting my window. Lightning strikes and it lights up the sky. After a few more miles the clouds darken and it rains harder and harder. I look over to dad, his face set in concentration.
    "Um, dad should we pull over?" He shakes his head.
    Ben, silent for so long, speaks up now. "My phone says it's only going to get worse. Possible severe thunderstorm warning with hail. Dad?"
    "No, the cabin is only twenty miles away. We will be fine." I give him an incredulous look and he shrugs it off. "Kaleb, we'll be fine."
    I look back at Ben, who doesn't look so sure. "Dad, we are in all red on the radar. If we keep going. . ."
    "Ben, I said we will be fine."
    Suddenly, something big and hard smashes into the hood of the truck. Hail. Huge hail. Thunder cracks and lightning strikes. In the distance I can make out a ringing sound, like a siren.
    "It just jumped from a severe thunderstorm warning to a tornado warning!" Ben yells. I look back at him and his face is pale. He's scared. I turn to my dad.
    "Pull us over now. This is suicidal." My dad makes no move. "Dad?" Outside hail is pounding our truck. I can make out dents in the hood. My sideview mirror is cracked. "Dad!"
    His face is strained. He's pale and sweating. A vein is standing out in his forehead. "I can't. I can't stop!"
    All of a sudden, a giant piece of hail pierces the windshield, lodging itself there. Ben screams and dad jerks the steering wheel as the wheels start sliding. We are hydroplaning! I look back at Ben and grab his hand.
    Then the car goes off the road, into the woods.