Hold the Light Read Online Free PDF

catching up.

    Nathaniel had grown to an average build, seemingly stunted by his overly delicate nerves that wanted nothing to do with growth. Mural, on the other hand, kept on growing. On one of their meetings, Mural had passed the height of Nathaniel's horse and he still wasn't out of his teens. And with each meeting over a half decade's time, Nathaniel watched with sensitive dismay, as his brother grew infected. He watched the disease of blood thirst grow strong within Mural. It had grown so large and so obvious that Nathaniel began to fear it in his dreams, unable to escape it.

    The second to last time they ever met was to decipher the fate of the printing press, mere months before the war ended. The last leg of the war had turned Mural into an assassin and Nathaniel into a wreck. Neither slept much, out of fear of murder. Mural's life had death at his doorstep every time he was defenseless and when Nathaniel slept, his dreams assaulted him with seemingly tangible terror.

    "I need people I can trust Nathaniel. Why won't you join me? I need someone who can actually see the red of the redcoats. It's become all gray to me," Mural said as the brothers sat on a hill looking out onto the Atlantic Ocean.

    "There's enough death in my dreams Mural, I don't need to add anymore. I want this all to be over. The killing has to stop - there is too much blood on my hands already. I can't wash it off anymore. I want to settle down and get back to the press. Uncle is getting too old to run it."

    "I've been thinking about that too, and since you will not join me, I couldn't think of a better person to run it than you, brother," Mural said with a smirk.

    "Thank you. It does seem the logical thing to do. Well, you said in your letter that there was something else you wanted to tell me. Something big."

    "Yes ...now, don't get mad because I was out for a long time, but before I left, around six months ago ...well anyway ...you have a sister now."

    Nathaniel's brain reeled. He pictured their little sister Becca, swathed in her Sundays, sweet and perfect in her unstained dress. Splotches of red spread across the virginal white cloth and Nathaniel cringed. His anger permeated him. The gall that Mural had, thinking anyone could replace Becca somehow. Nathaniel's blood burned. Mural held up his left hand to show off his wedding band.
    "Wow ...I don't know what to say. Uh ...congratulations. Who is she?"

    Nathaniel began to calm, his heartbeat and breathing slowed back down to normal.

    "Remember Veronica?"

    "Yes," Nathaniel said groaning with disapproval, "the one who got around."

    "Don't you speak ill of her!" Mural bellowed and jumped to his feet, fists shaking in the air. The rage that Nathaniel feared reared its ugly head, it was always just a matter of time, but Mural realized his outburst and quelled for his brothers sake.

    "That's all I remember of her, I'm sorry."

    A long and tense salt breeze of silence breezed between them for what felt like a lifetime. The brothers sat silently until a question blurted out from Nathaniel that he had wanted to ask for years.

    "What has happened to you Mural? You're so violent now. I worry about you. All you do is hate."

    Mural groaned like he had been expecting a lecture from a parent.

    "How about you? You think you see mother everywhere. Get over it, she's dead!"

    Another, more familiar silence hung between them. Years of anger and love filled their eyes. Neither needed to argue any further; both knew everything behind the other's words.

    "Listen, Mural, I'm coming back here to Boston and running the press and am going to try and live a normal life. I want you in it no matter what. I know you think that I'm pretentious with my 'high and mighty talk,' but I do not mean it that way. I just want you safe and happy. You are my family. I'll always do what is best for the family. To save rather than destroy. We've seen enough destruction."

    Mural stewed with fury but he knew his brother was