nathaniel drayden | four | fin

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run boy, run
this world was not made for you
run boy, run
they're trying to catch you

"Don't be afraid, Nate."

"This coming from the one who isn't hanging from the side of a building."

Night sky on their backs, two brothers caught scents of gold and jewels, pockets feeling particularly empty. Sam definitely was not the best role model for his fifteen year old brother, but to be fair, he was only eighteen, and he hadn't ever asked to be all that was left.

Besides, Nate had already decided things could have been much, much worse; He could have still been in the group home with the rest of the youth who were either unwanted, unruly, or just plain parentless. The second Sam was old enough to sign the papers, he did.

"Just get through the window so we can go home." Sam said, looking more at everything else than Nate, who was free climbing the side of a recently foreclosed home.

"I need some time," Nate explained, "Breaking the law is hard."

This was at least enough to catch Sam's attention, because he snapped his head up, gaze on his little brother pulling himself up on a rope.

"Rule Number Three: It's only illegal if we get caught," he said casually. This was one of the many things Nate's brother had taught him. Another one he really liked was Rule Number One, "If the front door is locked, try the back. If that one is locked, too, find a window." Hence the reason he was ten feet in the air at 2 am on a school night.

"It's unlocked," Nate said, prying the window open.

"Good. Now, hurry up! Pawn shop closes soon." Sam spat.

Some kids got ice cream and bedtime stories. Nate got possible legal charges and a two bedroom apartment. But he also got adventures, and Nate had learned long ago that a person never needed stories when they had their own to tell.

With a huff, he pulled himself inside the building.

Nate would have loved to say that there was a method to their madness, that they always had a full-proof plan and that they never went into anything without knowing exactly what they were going to do. It certainly would have made him feel like he wasn't as blind most of the time. However, nine times out of ten, the Drayden brothers jumped feet first from cliff sides and hoped for there to be water at the bottom.

They had gotten more adaptable with time, at least. Normally, when a person saw a boulder falling directly over their head, they were liable to freeze. But Nate had been tackled away from the path of destruction enough times to know how to run away himself. He had felt the slight tug of a rope that was going to snap sometime in the next thirty seconds enough to know he should grab something and hold on tight. He had felt the give of a tunnel floor that couldn't support his weight, and he had had learned to walk on the edges for a safer passage.

But that didn't mean he went in knowing what would happen.

Part of him began to like it. Part of him had grown so used to the thrill that he began seeking it more than anything else. Background noise. His brother shouting his warnings, taunting him when his grappling hook missed its mark- it took a backseat to his newfound love of recklessness.

"I'm not talking just so I can hear myself speak," Sam said, their mother's blue stare catching Nate's attention. His voice had always been borderline monotonous, especially when he meant business. Deadpan stare, and lights flickered on and off as they hid on either side of an open doorway.

"Well, I'm not the one who was in a holding cell five minutes ago," Nate said in his own no-nonsense tone.

A quick glance at the wall above him reminded Nate exactly where he was, and perhaps the realization that he was currently breaking his brother out of jail should have made him realize he was in too deep. But it actually only made the rumble of hunger in his belly whine, and he was reminded that this wasn't just something they did for fun. Their survival depended on it.

He hadn't ever had to survive without Sam.

Besides, it wasn't like Nate was breaking him out of the Detention Center. He wasn't due to be shipped out for another week, and so they kept him in the Justice Building with the other unlucky thugs of the month until his eventual sentencing.

"I'm telling you, Nate, the vents are reinforced steel. They're our safest bet."

Sam scoffed, daring to take a peak around the doorway. The guard who had been standing there moments ago was gone.

"Front door is unlocked," Nate said, "What is Rule Number One?"

He took the opportunity to stand, check one more time before running. Sam rolled his eyes and chased after his little brother. They came to a stop at another doorway, where Sam tried once again to argue his point to Nate.

"Breaking out isn't the same as breaking in, Nate. We're swimming upstream now. Rules have changed." Nate turned toward him, sighing heavily and placing a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Listen to me. The exit is about ten feet on the other side of this door. We're wasting time. Trust me, okay?" Sam hesitated, then nodded in agreement.

Nate ran, and so did Sam. And just as Nate broke through the exit, a gunshot warned him to never come back, or it would be his life instead of his brother's, who was laying on his back and clutching his chest when Nate looked back.

"Go." Sam called. When Nate didn't move, he said it again, louder. "Go!"

Nate hated himself for it every day afterward, but he left. He left his brother to die alone.

The people Nate had met through his brother, the people whom he had always viewed as friendly competition, were suddenly the only constants in his life of stolen treasures and paying peacekeepers to look the other way.

He heard stories of a statue worth thousands, and how it was located on an islet a couple days into the ocean, and while he was hunting for it, he met Cloe, a treasure hunter whom he had heard stories of, and who was also on the prowl for it. After racing each other for a couple of days, the pair agreed to work as a duo, and eventually, Nate found himself sitting closer to her on the ship he had borrowed from a boy named Enoch Peregrine. Amateur pirate, if you asked Nate; he seemed more focused on the Sparrow sisters than finding any actual treasure. Probably wouldn't even miss it.

One night, Cloe showed him a new constellation in the sky, which she used for navigation to the east, and Nate saw an opportunity. Front door was locked, as was the back, but he found a window on the south side of the brick wall surrounding her heart, and after he steeled his nerves and climbed inside, things seemed easy for the first time since Sam's death.

But maybe it was too soon for him to find another partner in crime.

After they found the statue and hauled it back, splitting the money down the middle, she offered for him to let her know if he heard of anything new. He agreed, but the next week, when he heard about a cave full of raw diamonds, he found himself walking past the block Cloe lived on without looking back.

Sam would've called him stupid, were he alive. He would have said Nate was blowing up a good thing, and maybe he was. But Nate knew Cloe would always be a person he preferred beating to the gold, rather than sharing it with her.

Still, he chose to stick it out and have a relationship with her, despite his assured knowledge that he couldn't ever see himself building a life with her. And, admittedly, his reasons were selfish. She was a good person, she was around, she was attractive, and most importantly, she took his mind off of Sam. He did value her as a person, and he was grateful for the things she had done for him, but it became clear after only a few months that destiny had other plans for them.

The docks were always eerie at night, but Nate could never deny that there was a degree of magic at play. It was like history in the present, luring him aboard yet another trusting man's boat so he could search for something special before they ever knew it was gone.

He tucked his hands into the pocket of his coat, not bothering to check the watch on his right wrist. It was dark. Had been for a while. That was all he needed to know. He walked the length of the marine, azure waves of day splashing against the shore in onyx deliverance. Weird, but magical.

Finally, when he reached the far end, where the biggest boats stayed, he focused his eyes more on the potential. These were the ones people with money owned. These were the ones that did not mean the difference between eating dinner or not.

Luxury.

Some day, a luxury he would afford.

He chose one at random, had it ready to sail in under an hour. Darkness warned him to stay; adventure begged him to go. Stay or go. Exist or live. Reckless hearts never gave too much thought to their abandon, so his grip tightened on the captain's wheel, he turned on the engine, and he sailed off to something better.