Free Ruled By Fear by C. Cervi

tomorrow.  Please, go get some sleep.”
         Keith’s eyes shifted back and forth and the corners of his mouth twitched in agitation.  After a moment, he managed to calm himself, and then caught Aaron completely off-guard by giving him a quick embrace.
         “You better be here when I get up,” he said, and before Aaron could respond Keith slipped quietly into his room.
         Aaron stood dazed outside the door to his room.  After a few minutes, he realized that his brother’s anger was a reaction to his fear of losing him.  He smiled softly and then entered his room.  His eyes had become so accustomed to being in darkness that he was able to make out the various shapes inside.  Making his way over to the water pitcher, without a moment’s hesitation, he drained it dry.  His leg was on fire from where the creature had scratched him and he knew that he should see to it, but overwhelming exhaustion took hold, and he barely managed to make it to his bed before he collapsed.
         Aaron’s dreams that night were kind to him, and allowed him, for a short time, to be home once again.  Near the comfort of a friendly fire—surrounded by a loving family.  Their cook was busy in the kitchen fixing a mouth-watering meal.  His father sat at his desk working on the ledgers, and Keith—Keith was safe, sitting with his feet up on the coffee table, just like always.  Keith looked up at him and Aaron smiled.  It was then that he noticed, Keith was mouthing some words to him and he leaned in closer to hear what he was saying.  Suddenly, the words became clear, and he groaned loudly as they registered in his ears.
         “Aaron, time to get up,” Keith said, giving him another slight shake.
         Aaron slowly opened his eyes.
         Had it already been two hours?
         “Keith,” he croaked.  “How’s your arm?”
         “Not bad,” Keith answered.  “There was a bucket of water inside our door this morning.  Tom said they leave one every now and again so we can wash up a bit.”
         Aaron looked toward his door and was relieved to see a bucket had been placed there as well.  He drank until he thought he would burst, and then with Keith’s help, cleaned the wound on his leg from the night before.  He had a few long scratches that, thankfully, hadn’t gone too deep.  Keith ripped one of the sleeves off of his shirt and used it to wrap up the leg as best he could.
         “There, now we match,” he said with a lop-sided grin.
         At breakfast that morning, they were greeted with more than a few curious glances, and a pile of fried potatoes on their plates.  They ignored the looks and dove into the food with a vengeance.  The potatoes were half raw and half burnt, but once again, Aaron thought he had never tasted anything so good and, after polishing off his plate, he glanced at Tom.
         “I don’t know if I’ve got the strength to pull off a full day’s work in the mine without Cody and Doyle to help,” he said.
         “Don’t have to worry about that today,” Tom answered.  “You won’t be in the mine.”
         Tom pointed to the board and Aaron turned in confusion.  He didn’t know quite what to think of their assignment for that day, but surely anything must be better than the mine.

 
     
    C  
    hapter 7
    Five hours later, Aaron decided that this job was just as bad if not worse.  He and Keith had been assigned to what Tom had called the hot house, and while it was not as physically demanding as working in the mine, it carried its own forms of torment.
         The hot house was a crudely constructed shack, no bigger than his living room back home.  The one room building had a door on each end, but no windows and in the center of the room was an enormous round stone fire pit with two giant cast iron pots simmering at all times.  One pot was filled with boiling water, which Aaron and Keith soon found out was for washing