The Battle of Rabid Earth

6

His eyes become wide. I couldn't quite catch the emotion behind them.

Then, I saw it.

Fear.

He had never been scared, not since last year. Or at least, he'd never shown it.

His face hardens quickly, before I can catch any other form of expression. He simply holds up a finger, telling us to wait. He then exits the kitchen opening the front door and stepping out onto the front porch.

I let a breath of pent up air escape my lungs, thinking about the past 12 months.

He was barely home anymore, either at work or the market. When we did see him, he was kind, smart, funny. It was like it never happened. He always tried to make us pancakes in the morning before he left. They were almost always burnt.

I didn't mind.

The days passed slowly this year, sometimes I would paint, sometimes I would write. Most times I would read, trying to block out the devastation of reality once the sun fell upon the horizon. I was never once able to call my friends from New York.

They would only ask questions.

Questions I'm not yet ready to think of any answers to.

Dylan tries his best to be happy, but I know he blocked them all out too.

Dad is soon walking back into the kitchen, his fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose.

He looks exhausted.

I never noticed the dark blue lines running across the bottom of his eyes.

I make a mental note, remind him to sleep.

He looks up, looking at me, then at Dylan who is sitting on the couch to my right. His legs are crossed with a pillow in between them, his face smooshed into it.

"I have to go." Dads expression is vague, leaving no emotion for me to latch onto. "The hospital needs me. Apparently I'm the only one available."

My mouth falls open, confused as to how a nice big hospital is so understaffed.

"For what?" Dylan looks up, his eyes disoriented as anger lingers within them.

Dad just sighs, grabbing his keys from the countertop and heading to the front door. "Ten people were trampled, by fifty mule deer in the city east of us." He looks down, pausing in his steps.

"We will talk about this when I get home, please stay here, I don't want you two getting hurt." He stands still, pondering in his thoughts. "Happy birthday." He doesn't turn to us as he walks out, leaving us stunned.

I turn to Dylan, his once soft features are now hard as he stares at the front door.

He's mad.

He's never mad.

Everything is wrong.

Everything is broken.

She broke us, and now I have to fix it.

"Let's go." I stand, reaching out my hand to Dylan.

His face softens, looking up at me. He says no words, grabbing my hand and standing with me.

"Dad just told us to stay here Rubes." I can tell he's anxious to leave the house, wanting to know more about what the future really holds for the fate of humanity. Yet, he questions me.

"I know..." My voice trails off, thinking of what to say to ease the pain from him. "I just want to walk."

He smiles and nods before picking up the journals and shoving them into my bag.