Kody Boye - Sunrise

You can do this, Kevin. You can do this.

“Dad?” Arnold asked.

He inhaled sharply. It took him a painful moment to realize he’d stopped breathing regularly. “Just thinking…about a lot of things,” he said, gesturing the boy to sit on the arm of the couch. “You asked if God existed. Right?”

“Yes.”

“I want to tell you that He does,” Kevin said. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, Arnold, but certain things don’t seem as obvious as they should be.”

“What do you mean?”

“Eagle was a blessing, maybe even an angel for all I know.”

“But Dad, angels aren’t supposed to…”

“Die?” Kevin asked. Arnold nodded. His eyes dropped to his floor and his head followed with it. “They, too, are mortal, son. They may be heavenly, but they are flesh and blood just like us.”

“I thought that angels were beautiful, shining, with wings?”

“Arnold, you don’t have to have wings to be an angel. I’m sure you already know that.”

“Dad… Jessiah isn’t just… gone, is he?”

“No, son. He isn’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because on the day we buried him, when I was at my weakest and I was ready to just give in, I asked God to take care of my son, your brother. All He asked was that I kill the demon within the barn.”

“Diana,” Arnold whispered.

“Yes, Diana, your brother’s beautiful mare. The Devil took hold of her and made her His construct.”

“But I thought the Devil didn’t exist?”

Kevin laughed. “Some say he doesn’t. Some say he does. All I know is that when I opened that stall and looked into her eyes, I saw him, Arnold. I saw the Devil.”

Arnold didn’t say anything. Instead, he raised his eyes and looked directly at Kevin, his face now bolder and more determined than it had been before.

“I don’t ask you to believe,” Kevin said. “All I ask is for you to know that He exists, at least for me.”

“I know, Dad,” Arnold said.

“Good,” Kevin smiled. “Go check on your brother for me, please.”

The boy stood. He was about to head for the stairs before he stopped and looked over his shoulders. “Dad?”

“Yes, son?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” Kevin smiled. “So much.”

“Quit hitting me!” Arnold cried.

“Then stop bossing me around!” Mark cried back, tossing a pillow in his brother’s direction.

Arnold ducked, the pillow missing him by inches, and said, “All I said was to be careful what you said to Dad.”

“Dad’s the grown-up! He should be the one taking care of us!”

Sighing, Arnold ran a hand over his quickly-lengthening hair and stared at his little brother. Being thrust into the position of the eldest sibling wasn’t easy.

If only Jessiah were here.

If Jessiah were here, he’d know what to say. He’d always known how to make Mark stop crying when something was wrong, when it seemed as though the world would crumble in around them and they would be covered in rock.

“I miss him too,” Arnold said, tears snaking their way down his face. “I’m trying, Mark. I’m trying!”

“Brother,” Mark said. A hint of his former, much-younger self appeared in that moment. With a twitch of his nose and a flare of his nostrils, Mark’s lip curled up and his eyes widened to their breaking point. His tears came back once more at the sight of his older brother in tears. “What’re we gonna do without him?”

“I don’t know,” Arnold said, collapsing onto the second bed. “I just don’t know, Jason.”

“What did Dad say when you asked?”

“That… that God does exist.”

“That’s not all he said.”

“Yes it was.”

“Arnold, you were down there too long for him to just say that.”

“Mark, please—”

“ Tell me!”

“All right! All right!” Arnold cried, shaking his head and raising his hands. “Keep it down though, ok? I don’t want Dad knowing we’re upset.”

Mark started to speak, but Arnold silenced his brother with a glare. Sniffling, Mark reached up to wipe the snot from his lip, absently wiping it on the thigh of his jeans when he was finished. “He said,” Arnold began, “that when he went out into the barn to take care of Diana, he saw the Devil in her eyes.”

“The Devil?” Mark asked.

“The Devil,” Arnold agreed.

“But Dad never said anything about the Devil.”

“I know. That’s why I asked.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“No.”

Mark threw himself from the bed and into his brother’s arms. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed, burying his head into his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to be so mean.”

Arnold set his hands on his brother’s back. “It’s ok, Mark. I’m not mad at you.”

“I’m sorry for throwing things at you.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry for calling you names.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry for everything.”

“It’s ok,” Arnold said, closing his eyes.

As his younger brother cried in his arms, Arnold shamelessly shed a few more tears of his own.

If only Jessiah were here.

He’d know what to do.

Erik tapped on the door with the back of his knuckles. He pushed it open and peeked into the room, taking note of Ian’s shirtless form lying on the bed. “Ian? You doing ok?”

“Yes,” Ian said. “Something bothering you?”

“Not a lot, but a little.”

“What’s up?”

Erik stepped into the room. He took a moment to admire the floral décor hanging along and around the window before returning his attention to Ian. “You care for a little downer?”

“Like I said, what’s up?”

“Dakota and Jamie saw a zombie walking around earlier.”

“So?”

“She was covered in ice.”

“So what does that mean?”

“That they’re not going anywhere,” Erik sighed. “At least not for a while.”

“We’re on our own, aren’t we? No military help at all.”

“Not as far as I can tell. I’ve been messing with a radio here in the kitchen. It’s working, but I’m not picking anything up.”

“ Nothing?”

“There’s some static, a few garbled words here and there, but nothing concrete. I think one of them might have been a relief broadcast, but whatever it is, I can’t hear it.”

“What makes you think it was?”

“Something about ‘all citizens’ and the like.” Erik said.

“Your headaches been better?”

“I guess. I haven’t had one for a few days.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For asking.”

“We were all worried about you when we first got here. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“Can I ask a favor, if it’s no big deal?”

“Shoot.”

“You know I’m bipolar. I mentioned it back at the base.”

Ah, Erik thought.

How could he have forgotten that frustrated moment when, while lying in his room, he’d heard a knock on the door only to find Ian—depressed, near tears and trembling, only able to say, I need my meds, Erik—I ran out.

Ian continued, indifferent to Erik’s epiphany. “I’ve been having a really rough time. I’ve been doing the best I can to control my temper, but I’m starting to go through some of the depressive cycles and I don’t want to get any worse than I already am. It’s hard enough having to be cooped up, but with almost nothing to do, I’m surprised I haven’t gone crazy.”

“You need meds,” Erik agreed. “Why haven’t you mentioned it before?”

“Because I didn’t want to bother you with it.”