The Other Brother by Brandon Massey Read Free Book Online

a thick vein began to pulse in the center of his forehead. Energy stirred at the base of his spine, grew hotter, stronger, like lava in a volcano set to erupt.
    This feeling, this power, was part of his new life, but it felt as comfortable to him as something he'd been doing since he was a child, like riding a bicycle.
    Focus.
    Isaiah looked up.
    Bo charged forward.
    The energy rushed up his spine and exploded into his brain. He trembled in anticipation.
    Command.
    Bo had started to draw back his leg, probably to kick him in the ribs with one of his muddy construction boots.
    "Freeze," he said to Bo in the strident tone of a master commanding a dog.
    Bo's eyes widened.
    The redneck stood stock still, as if he had been flash frozen like a side of beef.
    Although he had issued the command to Bo, his friends paused, too, confusion on their faces.
    Isaiah moved fast.
    He propelled himself to his feet in one fluid motion, bringing his fist upward. He smashed the heel of his hand into Bo's nose, breaking it, driving shattered cartilage into the man's brain.
    Bo shrieked like a girl. He flopped to the pavement. His limbs twitched. Blood oozed from his nostrils.
    Bo's buddies looked at their fallen leader, looked at him.
    Isaiah stepped toward them. "Want to try me?"
    They turned and fled.
    He gazed down at the redneck. The guy looked comatose. In fact, he might die.
    Isaiah spat on him.
    "My name isn't Boy, or Nigger," he said. "My name is Isaiah Battle."
    Isaiah turned on his heel, climbed into his car, and drove away into the night.

Chapter 5
    n Tuesday morning, Gabriel was discharged from the hospital. He shuffled out of the lobby wearing jeans, a button-down shirt, and sneakers, clothes Dana had brought for him the previous night. His head, wrapped in a fresh bandage, ached intermittently, and his ribs were still sore. He planned to pop painkillers all day, to keep his discomfort at bay.
    He hadn't experienced another episode of tingling handsor glimpsed another dark figure in a mirror. Barring another occurrence, he'd decided to store both strange incidents in the Do Not Open room in his mind, and forget about them.
    But if something unexplainable happened again ... well, he would try to avoid thinking about it.
    June weather had returned to Atlanta. The sun shone brightly, the temperature was in the low eighties, and the cloying humidity made stepping outdoors like going into a steam room. He loved it.
    His mother had arrived to pick him up. She waited in front of the hospital in the late-model, silver Jaguar coupe Pops had bought her for their thirtieth wedding anniversary
    Gabriel opened the door and tossed his bag on the backseat.
    "Hey, Mom" He kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks for picking me up"
    "Let me look at you" Scrutinizing the bandage on his head, she turned his face from one side to the other. Marge Reid had a degree in elementary education and no formal medical training, but she examined him with the keen gaze of a physician-Dr. Mom. "They sure booted you out of there fast. Are you positive you feel okay?"
    "I'm all right. My head throbs a little, and I'm kinda sore, but the doctor said that'll go away soon"
    "Hmph?" She looked skeptical. "What does Dana think?"
    "She's fine with it. Really, Mom, I'm okay. I came out of that accident unscathed. It was a miracle."
    At the mention of miracles, the doubt finally left her face. She nodded. "Yes, indeed, it was a blessing from the Lord" She pulled the car away from the hospital.
    Gabriel had to smile at his mother's concern for him. He was the elder of his mother's two children, and her only son, which naturally made him a prime candidate to be a mama's boy. When he was growing up, she'd baby him as much as Pops would allow-which wasn't much. "Don't do that, Marge, you're gonna spoil the boy," had been his father's constant refrain. Mom had often nurtured Gabriel in secret, away from his father's stern eye. She'd let him sleep late when school wasn't in session; Pops