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  Phoenix grabbed Randy’s collar and pulled him forward. “Don’t fuck with me, Franklin.”

  Randy smirked. “Aw, come on, Arizona. You don’t wanna bruise my face before I have a chance to propose, do you?”

  “I’ll do whatever I damn well please.”

  Randy took a few sharp inhales through his nose. “Is that why your breath’s so minty fresh? You and that toothbrush are inseparable. I’m surprised you don’t have it tucked behind your ear! Well, it’s dirty work, but somebody’s gotta do it, right?”

  Phoenix stared, silent.

  “Hit me, then,” Randy jeered, his eyes boring into Phoenix’s. “Isn’t that what you came here for?”

  Phoenix’s vision reddened. The world around him disappeared, replaced by a crimson sky and buildings and people that were drenched in blood. Something familiar called out from far away, but he shook it off; it was nothing more than white noise. He raised his fist, ready to strike Randy’s smirking face. But before his fist had a chance to strike its target, he felt a set of teeth sink into his leg. He howled with pain, releasing Randy, who bolted. Phoenix looked down to see the culprit: a pit bull. Phoenix gave it one swift kick after another with his uninjured leg until it let go, whimpering. Looking up, he saw that he wasn’t the only one who was attacked: left and right, kids were being chased and bitten by snarling dogs.

  The Red vanished as quickly as it came. The sky was blue once more and the people were no longer steeped in blood. Then, something popped into Phoenix’s mind: Blake. He ran for the chapel, dodging dogs and pushing young boys out of his way as he sprinted up the front lawn. The front doors of the chapel creaked open, and Blake poked his head out.

  “Let’s go!” Phoenix called out.

  They ran through the chaos. Phoenix punched a vicious Rottweiler in the face when it lunged at him. Another dog threw itself at Blake and sunk its teeth into his forearm.

  “Aargh!”

  Phoenix kicked and punched the dog until it let go, whimpering. They continued to run, Blake clutching his bleeding arm. When they made it to the car, Phoenix turned the key in the ignition, and they were off. The brothers sat in silence, panting for a few moments before Phoenix spoke. “What the fuck was that?!”

  “Rascal,” Blake answered.

  “What? You’re kidding me, right?”

  “I saw him leading the pack. I tried to warn you, but I don’t think you heard me.”

  Phoenix ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t believe this shit.”

  “Hey, where are we going?” Blake said, peering out of his window. “Home is back that way.”

  “We’re not going home. I’m taking us to the hospital.”

  “I know these bites are bad, but it’s nothing we can’t fix at home.”

  “No, not for us. It’s for Mom. She’s in labor.”

  Blake wheeled around to face his brother. “She’s not due for another month!”

  “Her water broke right after I asked her for the keys.”

  “Holy shit,” Blake muttered as he ran his uninjured hand through his short black hair.

  Phoenix looked sideways at his brother. “So,” he said in a calm voice, “you ready to be a big brother?”

  Blake grinned despite the pain.

  4

  Pop Tarts

  Phoenix sat in a seat farthest from everyone else in the ER. Blake collapsed in the empty seat next to him. He was paler than usual and shining with sweat.

  “Blake?”

  Blake slumped against Phoenix’s shoulder, his eyes slits, his chest heaving.

  “Hang on. I’ll be right back.” Phoenix hurried to the nearest vending machine, where he bought three bottles of water and a few candy bars. Blake sat bolt upright when he returned and downed the entire bottle in three huge gulps.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  They sat in silence as they filled out their paperwork.

  “You think we’ll need rabies shots?” Phoenix pulled up the leg of his jeans, exposing the gruesome bite on his calf.

  “Doubt it. Didn’t you notice their collars? Those weren’t strays; they were pets. I can’t believe Rascal convinced all those dogs to attack their owners.”

  “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation to begin with.”

  When their paperwork was completed, they returned it to the front desk. Just then, a tall, bearded man in a suit appeared through the automatic doors.

  “Dad!” the brothers said together.

  “What the hell happened to you two?” their father asked.

  Phoenix and Blake shared a brief look.

  “We were bitten by dogs,” Blake replied.

  “You’re seeing a nurse soon, right? Good,” their father added when the brothers nodded. “I’ll go meet your mother. You two wait here.”

  Their father left, and the brothers retook their seats in the waiting room.

  “I wonder if it’s a boy or a girl?” Phoenix asked.

  “Either way, looks like I’ll be a big brother,” Blake answered, kicking his feet.

  They were called to be seen by a nurse minutes later. Their wounds were cleaned and disinfected, and after they received medicine for the pain, they returned to the waiting room.

  The wait was painful. Phoenix spent much of his time staring at the wall clock. He’d never seen a clock move so slowly. He downloaded a few apps on his phone to pass the time. He got to level fifty-seven in Candy Crush before he lost all his hearts and beat his high score in Subway Surfer twenty-eight times. Phoenix felt his sanity slip away as the hours dragged by.

  “How long does it take to have a baby?” he demanded to know after three grueling hours.

  “It depends,” Blake answered, looking up from his Kindle. “It can take ten minutes or ten hours, sometimes forty-eight.”

  Phoenix stared. “You gotta be kidding me.”

  Blake shrugged. “All we can do is wait.”

  Phoenix placed his palms onto either eye and threw his head back. Why did it have to take so long to birth a child? Why couldn’t they just pop out like Pop Tarts fresh from a toaster? “Jesus Christ,” he moaned.

  I wonder how long Keira was in labor? his Inner Critic pondered.

  Shut up, Phoenix answered.

  You never did show up at the hospital to see her.

  Why would I…? Wait, who do you mean? Keira or the baby?

  You tell me.

  Phoenix paced the waiting room, then retired to his seat when he realized it wasn’t helping. He resolved to sitting motionless, like a statue. Blake fell asleep on his shoulder after some time.

  After eight hours that felt like eight years, their father returned to the waiting room and approached his sons.

  “She’s ready,” he said, beaming.

  Phoenix shook his brother awake, and they followed their father to their mother’s room. She looked tired and her face was shining with sweat, but she grinned, a baby swaddled in blankets in her arms. They approached her bed, Phoenix’s heart pounding. He peered through the blankets. The baby looked up at him with her big brown eyes, the same shade as their mother’s. Phoenix’s heart sank. He didn’t know why he was hoping for blue eyes. He knew all along that the baby wouldn’t be theirs.

  “It’s a girl,” his mother whispered. She turned to his father. “What do you think of Cleona?”

  He beamed down at the infant. “It’s beautiful. I like Aileen, too.”

  “As a first or middle name?”

  “Middle. Have you thought of any Greek names?”

  “I think Athena would suit her best,” she said, gazing down at her daughter.

  Phoenix ran his fingers through his hair. He felt the bile at the back of his throat, and every cell in his body begged him to leave the room and run home, back to the basement. Yet, he stayed rooted to the spot.

  “Phoenix, Blake,” his mother announced, “meet your sister: Cleona Aileen Athena McCracken.”

  5

  Operation: Find Keira's Baby


  Blake stirred in his sleep, faintly aware of someone calling for him. He shrugged it off, allowing the blissful grog to envelope him.

  “Blake,” the voice repeated. He felt a hand shake his shoulder. Blake opened his eyes just enough to form slits.

  “What?” he asked. He saw his brother towering over him.

  “Get up. We’re having breakfast.”

  “Eat without me.” Blake turned on his side, his back to his brother, and pulled the covers over his head. Phoenix yanked them back and threw them on the floor. Blake shrank into a fetal position, shivering. Phoenix strode across the room to Blake’s window and pulled the curtains back, flooding the room with sunlight. Blake shielded his eyes with the back of his hand.

  “Get downstairs before your eggs get cold.” Phoenix left.

  Blake groaned, sitting up and flinging his legs across the edge of his bed. Phoenix had woken him in a similar fashion the previous morning. Blake was woken up early for breakfast so that they could get a head start on packing, just as their mother had instructed them to do right after Cleona was born.

  “They say I have to stay here for a few days,” she’d said as she lay in her hospital bed, the infant Cleo in her arms.

  “We’ll stay the night, then,” his father had replied. Blake had nodded his agreement.

  “No,” his mother had answered. “You have work tomorrow. And you two”—she indicated Blake and Phoenix—“keep packing while I’m here.”

  No one protested. Arguing with Mom was like arguing with a wall.

  Blake opened his bedroom door and walked down the hall, the floorboards cool against his bare feet. He could smell the eggs from the stairs. When he entered the kitchen, he found his brother and father at the island, eating. Phoenix was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans; he ate his bacon without a word. Their father sat in front of an empty plate, dressed in a suit and tie. He stood up.

  “I’d better get going.” He grabbed his suitcase from the floor and clapped Phoenix on the shoulder. “Thanks for breakfast.”

  “Have a good day, Dad,” Blake yawned.

  His father beamed down at him through his short, neat beard and ruffled his hair. He turned the corner, and they heard the door slam behind him.

  Blake sat down and started on his breakfast.

  “Let’s finish our rooms today,” said Phoenix. “We should have them done by lunch.”

  “Right,” Blake mumbled.

  “Then we can take down the rest of the portraits.”

  “Okay.”

  “And afterwards, we can burn all your books in a bonfire on the front lawn.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Phoenix leaned forward and gave Blake’s forehead a hard poke. “This is serious. We’re leaving for Mirallegra soon.”

  “I know, but I’m sleepy,” Blake whined, rubbing his stinging forehead. “I was up all night reading my new textbooks. I only meant to read one, but I got carried away and read all of them. I can’t wait for Seven Hills.” Blake wore a faraway smile as he reminisced opening his acceptance letter from Seven Hills Private School, the most competitive school in Mirallegra, just months prior. It taught grades sixth through twelfth, so Phoenix would be joining him. Both brothers received full scholarships, and their uniforms and books arrived in the mail the day before.

  “I can’t wait either,” his brother agreed, “but we won’t get there if we don’t pack. So, wake up already.”

  “I’m trying.”

  Phoenix set down his fork and left the kitchen. Blake, who’d finished his eggs, started spreading strawberry jam on his toast. He nearly nodded off mid-spread, when his brother returned. Phoenix held Blake’s copy of A Game of Thrones, underneath which he held a lighter, the small flame alight.

  “W-what are you doing?” Blake stammered.

  “Waking you up,” Phoenix answered.

  Blake made to stand but froze when Phoenix brought the flame closer to the paperback.

  Phoenix shook his head. “One more step and winter comes early.”

  “Please don’t burn my book,” Blake pleaded.

  “What’s the harm?” Phoenix said with a careless shrug. “You’ve already memorized it, right?”

  “That’s not the point. It’s mine and I like having it!”

  “You want it back?”

  “No shit!”

  “Then tell me what we’re doing today.”

  “Packing.”

  “In what rooms?”

  “Ours.”

  “And then…?” Phoenix gave the lighter a little shake, causing the flame to lick the book’s spine.

  “We’ll have lunch and take down the portraits.”

  “Good. Let’s get to work.” Phoenix put out the flame and tossed Blake the book. He made to leave and paused in the doorway. “By the way, it’s your turn to clean. Thanks.” He ruffled Blake’s hair as he passed.

  Blake shoved the last of his toast into his mouth and downed it with the remainder of his orange juice. “Christ,” he muttered.

  After all the plates and silverware were clean, Blake retired to his room. He found several flat, unused boxes stacked on his bed, along with a roll of clear tape and a large black Sharpie. He unfolded one of the boxes and began taking down the books from his bookshelf, a polished wood structure that took up an entire wall. With the help of the chair from his desk, he was able to reach the top shelf. After he’d filled three boxes and labeled them by author surnames, he started taking clothes off the hangers in his closet.

  Halfway through folding his clothes, he heard scratching on his door. He scowled: Rascal. Blake hadn’t seen him since the last day of school. Blake didn’t blame him: after the stunt he pulled, lying low was his best bet. He opened the door and glared down at the beagle who sat on the floor, his tail swiping back and forth behind him.

  “What do you want?”

  Rascal whined.

  “No, you can’t come in. Haven’t you done enough?” Blake held up his bandaged forearm. “Fuck off.” He slammed the door and went back to folding. A few seconds later, he heard the same scraping on his door followed by more whining. Knowing how persistent Rascal was and that ignoring him was only a temporary fix, Blake answered the door again.

  Blake opened his mouth to yell at Rascal, but hesitated, his eyes narrowing on the small photograph clutched in Rascal’s teeth. “What’s that?” He crouched down and held out his hand. Rascal dropped the photo into Blake’s outstretched palm. In the picture, Phoenix kissed Keira’s temple, one hand around her shoulder, the other on her large, round belly. Keira’s hand laid on top of Phoenix’s, the other through his long hair. She was laughing, the corners of her dark eyes crinkling with thoughtless delight.

  “Where’d you get this? I thought Phoenix burned all their pictures together.”

  Rascal just sat there, wagging his tail.

  “Why are you showing this to me?”

  Rascal said nothing… not that he could.

  “What do you know that I don’t?”

  Rascal cocked his head to one side, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

  Blake scanned the hallway: no sign of his brother. “Inside. Now.” Rascal trotted into his owner’s room, jumping on top of his bed and making himself at home on his pillow. Blake sat in front of him, his legs folded.

  “Whatever you need to tell me is about Keira and Phoenix, right?”

  Rascal nodded.

  “What about them?”

  Rascal stared.

  Blake looked down at the photo in his hands, then looked up again moments later. “It’s about the baby.”

  Rascal nodded again.

  “What happened to her? Is she okay?”

  Rascal’s head bobbed once.

  “Then what’s so important about her?”

  There was silence. Then, Blake asked, “Rascal, you want me to go see the baby, don’t you?”

  Rascal shifted himself.

  “I need to see her eyes,” he breathed. “Am I… am I an uncle?”


  Before the dog could respond, there was a knock on the door. Rascal jumped off the pillow and dived under the comforter. Blake wheeled himself around, facing the door. “Come in.”

  “Hey, it’s time for lunch,” said Phoenix in the doorway. “Why are you still in your PJs?”

  Blake looked down at his red flannel bottoms and grey T-shirt. “Uh…”

  “Whatever, just get dressed before lunch, alright?” Phoenix looked around the room. “Seriously, this is all you got done? Just your books?”

  “I have a lot of them,” said Blake.

  “You’ve been binge reading again, haven’t you?”

  “So what if I have?”

  “Just get your lazy ass downstairs. We’re having BLTs.” He left.

  Rascal emerged from the comforter and Blake turned around to face him.

  “I need you to distract Phoenix while I go find Keira.”

  Rascal nodded.

  Blake jumped off the bed and opened his door. Rascal followed suit and walked into the hallway. “And Rascal?” The dog stopped in his tracks and turned. “Don’t hurt him, okay?” Rascal cocked his head to one side.

  “On second thought, he did almost burn my book. Give him hell for me.”

  Rascal let out a loud bark and scampered off.

  Blake closed the door and looked for a pair of shorts. He had one leg in when he heard his brother yell, “There you are, demon! Why the hell did you send all those dogs?”

  Blake searched around in his dresser and pulled out a red flannel shirt, a small leather pouch, and his slingshot. He put on the shirt and slipped the leather pouch into his pocket protector and the slingshot in his back pocket. Then, he grabbed his school bag from beside his nightstand and slung it over his shoulders.

  He heard heavy footsteps downstairs, along with the sound of metal banging against linoleum: his brother and pet were running around the kitchen. He opened one of the drawers of his nightstand and pulled out a can of spray-on sunscreen. He gave the can a good shake and coated his body from head to toe. He opened the door just in time to see Rascal streak past, followed by Phoenix, who was carrying a frying pan.