Huston was dead.

It was the thought that Feld woke up with every morning for seven months and fourteen days. There was not a moment when he did not remember. He made it a point to bring Huston with him in every activity and in every moment of stillness. He spoke to Huston often in the middle of the night when sleep did not come easily.

They virtually ran the distance between Candland Mountain and the town called Fairview and burst into the closest building. They were exhausted and malnourished kids that had travelled an unknown and improbable distance. People were welcoming and kind and gave them food and places to stay and, more than anything, family. An older man and his girlfriend took Huston and Feld in and cared for them. They each had their own bedroom, like in Hillston, and they started going to school again as soon as Huston’s foot healed. 

Fairview was similar to Hillston except that everyone was nicer. Feld always felt like there was a gloom hanging over their hometown but this place didn’t have that. This place didn’t feel like the people were stuck in it. People were choosing to live here. What happened to the man on the hill in Hillston would never happen here. Could never happen here.

Feld grew up.

Fairview was undisturbed by the conflicts and they only heard bits and pieces from the outside world. He never could quite figure out what it was all about. Towns like Fairview, people like Huston and Feld were just collateral damage.

After Huston turned twenty and had been working for awhile carving stone from the nearby range and turning it into building materials, the two of them moved into a house together. They rarely spent time apart. Feld knew that Huston still felt guilty for everything, for not being able to protect him after the bombs dropped and the soldiers came. Huston would always make sure Feld had everything he needed and everything he wanted. He was a good big brother.

Eventually it made Feld crazy. They were always together and Huston was always so protective. If Feld wanted to explore the area with friends, Huston would always offer to go with them or insist that he be home by dark. It was like having an overprotective mother.

Feld moved out to a place with one of his friends, Cedrik, when he was eighteen years, six months, and thirty days old. It was good timing, he thought. Huston had been seeing a girl, Lily, for almost five years at that point. She spent the night often. She was only twenty-one years old but they seemed to match. Feld told Huston that she could move in and he could move with Cenrik and everything would be easy.

It was not.

“Aren’t you happy here,” Huston was fuming.

“Living with you? No! Are you?” Feld fired back.

“I’m just doing my best, Feld. I’m trying to be a good brother. I’m sorry if it’s not good enough for you.!”

“It isn’t about that, Huston, and you know it. We don’t need to live together. The town isn’t that big. You and Lily can live together. We can see each other all the time. I can live with Cedrik. It’s the best for everyone.”

“But–”

“I don’t need to be taken care of. And I’m not asking for permission. I already did it.We have the place.”

Feld watched his brother deflate and tried to look angry even though his heart was hurting. He knew it would be okay eventually. But it took longer than he thought. 

Huston did not talk to Feld for four months and three days after he moved out even though they were living one block from each other. Huston would avoid eye contact at the store and would stay silent when Lily made it a point to approach Feld with a hug and a greeting. The silence was broken on a Monday morning before sunrise with a furious knocking on the window of Feld’s room. He jumped up to see his brother standing outside sweating with glee.

He opened the window.

“Hi, Huston.”

“Lily is pregnant!” The words burst from Huston. 

“Oh…” Feld was happy but did not know how to react. His hesitation caught Huston.

“Um. Sorry. We just found out and I thought you would be excited but–”

“No! I am excited. Just surprised. I’m sorry.”

And they were hugging and they were crying and they told Cedrik and they all went over to Huston’s house and talked and forgot about everything. It was different then, Feld knew, because Huston needed him. Now they needed each other.

It was the trend in Fairview for people to just have one name. No one quite knew what started it, but it was understood that it was more about leaving the past behind and starting new. Huston and Lily named the child Mena, Feld never quite knew why. She was born on March 23nd, 2264. rIn between his work as a teacher, and spending time with Cedrik, Feld loved spending time with Mena and watching her grow up. When she was old enough, Feld told her the story of the man at the top of the hill and what he learned about the darker natures of people. He told her what the town elders told them whenever they asked about the man: that his type of love was not acceptable. He told Mena how it was wrong and how love was nobody’s business. 

When Lily was nine years, eleven months, and three days old and Feld told the story to her before bedtime, she gave him a curious look.

“Who do you love?”

He looked at her in silence.

Can I ask that?” She looked nervous. He responded quickly.

“Of course you can. We’re family. I love you and your dad and your mom and my mom and my sister wherever she is…”

“No, not that way. In the way like the man. Like love love.”

“No one. Not yet.”

“No one? Not even Cedrik?”

Feld laughed and then thought.

“Maybe Cedrik. I don’t know.”

“Cool.” She said and smiled.

Feld had not let himself consider that he was attracted to Cedrik before because he knew what Hillston was like and did not know if the rest of the world was different. He liked the way that Cedrik would maintain eye contact when he was listening and how he would make sure that things were safe before Feld tried them. He liked how Cedrik would always see the bright side of everything and how he would remind Feld that everyone was doing their best.

He wanted to talk to Cedrik about it but he did not know how and so he put it off. He wanted to talk to Huston about it but he did not know how and so he put it off.

People started dying quickly on the morning of January 17th, 2275. First it was muscle pain and then the flu. Then they started throwing up. Then they stopped eating and had a hard time swallowing. Then the swelling and some of them got bumps. And then they died. All of them. 

When Huston and Feld arrived in Fairview there were two-hundred and fifty-two people. After the Gene Event, only forty-three remained, most with darker skin. Feld was only one of two with lighter. He was lucky. Mena was lucky. Cedrik was lucky. He knew and reminded himself he was lucky every morning when he got out of bed and looked out of the window at the spot where he buried his brother and whenever he looked up at the night sky and wondered if his sister was alive. 

He was lucky. 

Huston and Lily were not lucky.

Feld Unkin believed that every person was created with a purpose. It is a thing he taught to Mena in as many ways as he knew how in the months and years following the Gene Event. He knew that his purpose was to help, he wanted to make sure everyone was okay. As okay as they could be.

The population of Fairview was three hundred and thirty-six before the Gene Event and forty-three after. Many of the people that survived were young and had grown up in Fairview, never seeing anything beyond it. After people came out of their homes, after the dying was finished, Feld took to making meals for people and creating gatherings. It was what he wished he’d had when Hillston was destroyed: just a time to be around people. He would tell stories of Hillston, stories of the man on the top of the hill. He hoped it was the warning in that story that kept people engaged, the warning not to become too caught up in ones beliefs, the warning about the importance of acceptance. Somewhere deep inside, though, he knew that it was just the horror that people wanted to hear. They wanted to know that life could be worse. And, Feld thought, that was okay too.

Over time the stories were getting harder to remember. He almost felt like he was making them up. 

Was the man tall or short? 

Did he really have dark skin? 

When they met at the market, did he speak to them at all?

It all seemed to blend together after awhile. 

It didn’t matter, as long as it helped people.