Two brothers. Three hundred miles. One ruined world. When the sky turns copper and civilization collapses, Mike Johnson is drinking alone in Taylor, Texas. His brother Ray is playing guitar in a Nashville basement. Neither knows if the other survived. Mike walks east toward Mississippi—toward the ex-wife who rebuilt her life without him, the children who became strangers, the farm he abandoned seven years ago. He's a man who chose leaving over staying, and now he's walking toward a reckoning he may not survive. Ray walks south toward the same destination, searching for the brother who never showed up when it mattered. He's spent twenty years being present without knowing what he was present for . Now presence is all that's left. Their stories are told in two voices—Mike's winding first-person confessions and Ray's clipped third-person urgency—because brothers see the same world differently. Because sometimes the only way to understand two people is to let them each tell it their way. Copper Sky is a literary post-apocalyptic novel about family, regret, and what it means to finally show up when showing up might be too late. For readers of Cormac McCarthy's The Road and Emily St. John Mandel's Station Eleven .