The Dead and the Gone

  "Oh," Julie said. "Three of the sisters died, too. Well, Sister Joanne was just a postulant."

  "How'd they die?" Alex asked, not wanting to talk about Kevin.

  Julie shrugged. "They got sick," she said. "Sister Rita didn't tell us of what or anything. She was crying, only she was pretending not to. But we could all tell. Not that there are that many of us left. Maybe some of the girls have died, too."

  "They've probably just moved on," Alex said. "Most people have."

  "I don't want to die," Julie said. "Sister Rita said Sister Dolores and Sister Claire and Sister Joanne are in heaven with the Holy Virgin, but I'd still rather be alive."

  "Me too," Alex said.

  They stood silently for a while. Then Julie took his hand.

  "I'm sorry Kevin died," she said. "He was a good friend."

  "Yes," Alex said. "He was."

  Sunday, December 11

  "Julie, I need you to go to eleven F," Alex said after lunch. "I want you to see if there's anything left we can use."

  "Why do I have to go?" Julie said. "There's nothing there."

  "You have to go because I told you to," Alex said. "Julie, just do it. Don't give me a hard time."

  "What if there's someone in the stairwell?" she asked.

  "There isn't," Alex said. "No one's left here but us. Please. It's just one floor. You'll be fine."

  Julie grabbed the flashlight. "You'd better hope no one's there," she said. "God'll never forgive you if there is."

  "I'll take my chances," Alex said. "Now go." He watched as Julie left the apartment. When he heard her walk down the hallway, he went into the bedroom. Bri was huddled in the sleeping bag, but even though she had on two coats and several blankets, she was still shaking from cold. Just one more day, Alex told himself. In one more day they'd be on their way to safety.

  Bri looked up at him and smiled. "I thought Julie would come in to get my plate," she said. "Are you doing the housework now?"

  Alex grinned. "Not a chance," he said. "No, I need to talk to you, Bri. Alone. I sent Julie off on an errand so we can talk."

  Bri struggled to sit up. The exertion made her cough. She grabbed her inhaler and took a deep breath.

  One more day, Alex thought. He sat on the bed next to his sister. "Bri, I'm going to tell you something and I don't want you to get upset," he began. "I'm going to ask you to make a big sacrifice for Julie."

  "I'd do anything for Julie," Bri said. "You know that."

  Alex nodded. He was counting on it. "Bri, it isn't safe for Julie in New York anymore," he said. "I'm not talking about the cold or being hungry. I mean safe for a girl."

  Bri's eyes opened wide. "Nothing's happened, has it?" she asked.

  "Nothing's happened," Alex said. "But Papi taught me the most important thing a man can do is to protect the women he loves. I have to protect you and Julie, and I've been trying the best I can up until now. But conditions are getting worse, so I've made arrangements for all of us. We're leaving New York tomorrow. Remember Chris Flynn? His father gave me passes for the three of us to take us to a safe place, a place where the families of the really important people go."

  "No," Bri said, half choking. "You go. You and Julie. I'll stay here for Mami and Papi."

  Alex stroked Bri's hair. "Julie won't go without you and neither will I. For our sake, you have to come with us."

  "But what about Mami and Papi?" Bri cried. "How will they find us?"

  "I figured that out," Alex said. "After we've moved I'll find Carlos and tell him where we are. He can tell Mami and Papi. But we have to leave, Bri. If Julie's life means anything to you, we all have to leave tomorrow."

  "I'm scared," Bri said. "Alex, it scares me. I know I'm holding you back." She began to cry. "I'm sorry I ever came home. I should have stayed at the convent and died there."

  "Idiota," Alex said, kissing Bri on her forehead. "I need you alive and so does Julie. Now don't be a dramatica like Aunt Lorraine. Think about how wonderful it's going to be living someplace with heat and electricity and three meals a day."

  Bri took another puff from her inhaler. "Do you think I'll get better?" she asked.

  "It's what I pray for," Alex said.

  Bri took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't make things any easier for you. But I'm sure I'm strong enough to walk to Port Authority."

  "You won't have to," Alex replied. "You should see the sled I got you. Well, you will see it tomorrow. You'll ride in luxury all the way there. After that the bus will take us to our new home. That may take a couple of days, but the bus will have heat. Can you believe that? Heat." He laughed. "We'll be living like royalty starting tomorrow."

  "Julie must be so happy," Bri said.

  "She will be," Alex said. "I haven't told her yet. You're the next oldest, so you deserved to be told first."

  "When she gets back, can you tell her in here?" Bri asked. "I want to see her face when she finds out."

  Alex nodded. "That's a good idea," he said. "Now rest up, and I'll come back when Julie gets home. Tomorrow's going to be a big day for all of us, and I want you to be as strong and ready for it as possible."

  "I have my rosary beads in the sleeping bag with me," Bri said. "I'll pray now. And I'll thank God for you and for Mr. Flynn and for everyone else who's been so kind."

  Chapter 17

  Monday, December 12

  Only five more blocks, Alex told himself. They'd made it this far; five more blocks was nothing.

  The trip downtown had been far more difficult than he'd imagined, in spite of how well it had started. He'd been pleased with how he'd handled things, from breaking the news to Bri and then to Julie (who'd kept her rejoicing to a quiet roar, which he appreciated), slipping a note under the door at Vincent de Paul so Father Mulrooney and Sister Rita wouldn't worry about them, then returning back to 12B and helping Bri and Julie pack. Then he and Julie tidied and cleaned the apartment until it was as close to immaculate as could be managed under the circumstances. They'd all eaten supper, leaving enough food so they could have breakfast the next day.

  He hadn't slept well, but that was excitement, and he figured he'd have plenty of time to sleep on the bus. He finally stopped trying around four-thirty, finished up whatever he needed to do, then woke his sisters. It felt strange and wonderful to eat breakfast; he couldn't remember the last time he'd started the day not hungry.

  He made sure Bri and Julie had packed what they intended, a couple of changes of clothes, and a personal item or two, nothing too heavy and certainly nothing bulky, since they were limited to what fit in their backpacks. They each wore several layers of clothing, more than usual, both as a packing trick and because they were going to be outside for several hours.

  Finally they were ready to go. It was a slow walk down the twelve flights of stairs, since they had to stop at almost every floor so Bri could catch her breath. She wouldn't have been able to survive much longer under these conditions, Alex thought. He was sure her inhaler cartridges were running low, and he had no idea how to replace them. But in a matter of days they'd be in the safe place and that would be no problem.

  Alex left Bri and Julie in the lobby while he walked down the final flight of stairs to their old apartment. Everything was as he'd left it. He carried up the sled, and was rewarded by squeals of admiration and excitement. He put the sled out onto the street, then went into the building and carried out Bri, placing her carefully on the sled so she never got wet. It was funny to think they'd never be back, never see West Eighty-eighth Street again, or even New York City.

  He suggested that before they go they pray silently, and he could see the gratitude in Bri's eyes at his suggestion. Then when the time had come, he began pulling Bri while Julie walked along.

  It was never easy, since he and Julie both had to trudge through unshoveled snow, and before long his arms and back began to ache from the burden of pulling the sled with Bri and the backpacks on it. Julie volunteered to help with the backpacks, so she end
ed up wearing one on her back and one on her chest. It didn't make that much of a difference, but Alex was grateful that Julie made the effort.

  It took an hour just to get to Seventieth Street, and by then Bri was having difficulty breathing. Julie fell on Sixty-eighth Street, and Alex had to pull her up, which took more energy than he cared to spare at that point. Some of the snow got into Julie's boots, and she began shivering uncontrollably. Alex didn't know whether to shake her, slap her, or hug her.

  "Come on," he said, at least as much to himself as to his sisters. "It's not that much farther. We can do it."

  But by Sixty-second Street, he wasn't so sure. They still had to navigate Columbus Circle and walk a mile's worth of city streets. Did they have the strength? Bri was coughing and Julie's steps were more and more labored.

  This is ridiculous, he told himself. In two hours, less if everything went well, they'd be inside Port Authority, finding where they needed to go and getting ready for the bus ride to salvation. They just had to make it until then.

  The wind picked up, and Alex could taste salt breeze intermixed with the familiar ash. His eyes smarted and teared until he could hardly see two feet ahead of him. He thought of Harvey's offer, a ride from their apartment to a safe place for Bri and himself in exchange for Julie. Bri could die on the sled, he realized. Had that been another wrong decision on his part? Could he be that sure Julie would be better protected by him than by some stranger?

  The wind began to sound like mocking laughter: Papi calling him a debilucho, Carlos calling him a sissy. They were real men. They never would have let things get this bad.

  Julie fell again. The backpack on her chest got soaked in snow, and it was obviously too heavy for her to manage. Alex took it off her and put it on the sled.

  "I can manage the other one," Julie said. "Put that one on me."

  Alex shook his head. "We're fine this way," he said. "Let's get a move on."

  But things got even worse at Fifty-seventh Street, because there civilization began again. Eighth Avenue had been plowed and the sidewalks shoveled, which meant the sled could no longer be used.

  A truck drove by, its driver honking furiously and screaming curses at them.

  "We have to get on the sidewalk," Alex said.

  "We won't be able to pull the sled," Julie said.

  Alex nodded. "We'll figure something out," he said, pulling the sled to the curb.

  He grabbed Bri and lifted her over his shoulder, firefighter style. Julie lifted the sled onto the sidewalk. She pulled it from there, while Alex tried to maintain his balance on the icy sidewalk.

  Twice he fell. The first time Julie managed to position herself to break his fall, and the three of them tumbled onto the sidewalk together. It would have been funny if there'd been any humor left in the world.

  The second time Julie had no chance to help, and Alex took a painful fall, his nose hitting the sidewalk so hard he was afraid he'd broken it. The shock jolted Bri and she began desperately gasping for breath.

  As Alex wiped away the blood from his face, Julie rifled through Bri's backpack, finally finding Bri's rosary beads, which she handed to her sister. Bri clutched the beads as though they were her lifeline.

  "Dios te salve, María. Llena eres de gracia," Julie began. Hearing the familiar words of the Hail Mary in Spanish, as Mami always said it, helped calm Bri down. When she was able, she recited it along with Julie, while Alex stood there and told himself never to underestimate his little sister again.

  The journey got easier as they got closer to Port Authority, and Alex regained his faith that they would actually make it. They saw a handful of people as they walked down Eighth Avenue, and while no one offered to help, no one cursed them out, either. There were a lot of bodies, and Alex could see, from the height of the piles, that many of them were new dead. Fluicide, he decided. There'd be no need for that word where they were going.

  The last time Alex had been at Port Authority it was May, crowded with hysterical people trying to escape. Now it was deserted. It surprised him not to see anyone there for the convoy, but he thought maybe they used a different entrance or maybe they were all inside already. He couldn't look at his watch without shifting Bri around, so he asked Julie what time it was. She stopped pulling the sled and checked.

  "Ten-fifteen," she said.

  "I guess we're the first ones here," Alex said. "That's good. We can get seats together."

  "I see a cop!" Julie cried, pointing toward the building. "He can tell us where to go."

  Alex gently put Bri down and walked over to the cop. "We have passes on the convoy out," he said to the cop. "Do you know which entrance we need?"

  "No convoy today," the cop said.

  "What do you mean?" Alex asked. "The December twelfth convoy. We have our passes and our reservations." For a moment he panicked that somehow it was December 13 and they'd missed the convoy by a day. "It is the twelfth, isn't it?" he asked, unable to keep the terror out of his voice.

  "It don't matter what today's date is," the cop said. "No convoys because of the quarantine."

  "What quarantine?" Alex asked. "What are you talking about?"

  The cop looked at Alex, then at Bri and Julie and the sled. "No one told you?" he asked, and Alex could hear pity in his voice.

  "Told us what?" Alex said, already knowing how much he was going to hate the answer.

  "New York City is under quarantine because of the flu," the cop said. "No one allowed in or out of the city."

  "Until when?" Alex asked. "For how long?"

  The cop shrugged. "Until it runs its course," he said. "Or until everyone in the country gets it so it won't matter anymore. Or until we all die. Take your pick."

  "Do you know about the convoys?" Alex asked. "Will they start running again? Will they let us on if they do?"

  "I know all about the convoys," the cop said. "I know all about the lucky people who get to go on them. Yeah, there'll be another one. They run every two weeks, and if that one can't go out, then the one after that will take care of you and your family. If you hear the quarantine's been lifted, come back in two weeks. If it hasn't by then, come back in four. For people like you, there's always a way out."

  Alex would have laughed, except if he did, he wouldn't have been able to stop. Instead he thought about the next convoy. Two weeks was December 26. Christ was certainly too merciful to have them die before Christmas. Alex would keep his sisters alive for two more weeks and the convoys would be running again. He'd be eighteen and wouldn't be allowed to go with them, but that would be all right. The buses would be filled with women and children, and one of the women would certainly volunteer to look after Bri and Julie until they got settled in. Someone would be kind. "Thank you," he said to the cop.

  "Good luck, kid," the cop said. "Tough break. You have far to go?"

  "Yeah," Alex said. "But if we made it here, we can make it back home."

  Tuesday, December 13

  Alex and Julie walked to Vincent de Paul hardly saying a word. None of them had talked much since the nightmare walk back from Port Authority. All Alex told his sisters was that the city was under a quarantine and once that ended, the convoys would be running again. They'd see how things were in two weeks.

  He wouldn't tell them he couldn't go along with them until they were safely on the bus. But what was one more secret.

  There was a big, handwritten sign on the front door of the school: CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE DUE TO QUARANTINE

  "How long do you think 'further notice' is?" Julie asked.

  Alex shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe just a week if we're lucky."

  "Do you think Harvey still has food?" Julie asked as they began their walk home.

  "Yeah, I'm sure he does," Alex said. "I don't know what I have left I can barter with, though."

  "Maybe you could bring him the sled," Julie said. "I bet he'd give you lots of food for that."

  "We'll need the sled in two weeks," Alex said. "I can
't carry Bri all the way to Port Authority."

  "She'll die anyway if we don't get food," Julie said.

  "Harvey won't want the sled back," Alex said. "We're the only people who'd want it. Think, Julie. Is there any food left at all?"

  Julie nodded. "I left twelve B a can of beans," she said. "It seemed wrong to leave nothing in case they ever came back. And there's a canister of macaroni we never used because it had things in it."

  "Things?" Alex said.

  "Bugs," Julie replied. "I thought it would be wrong to throw it out, so I never did."

  "We can eat that," Alex said. "People eat bugs all the time."

  "Yuck," Julie said.

  "It's better than starving," Alex said. "Besides, it's only until Friday. We'll get our bags of food then. And maybe Vincent de Paul will open again by Monday. We really just have to get through today, tomorrow, and Thursday and we'll be all right."

  "We still have to cook the macaroni," Julie said.

  "Oh," Alex said. "How do you do that?"

  Julie shook her head. "You're totally useless," she said. "Even Carlos knows how to boil water."

  "So you boil water and you cook the macaroni in that?" Alex asked. "That doesn't sound too hard."

  "It isn't," Julie replied. "Except the stove hasn't worked in weeks. Bri's done all the cooking in the microwave when there's been electricity. Which there isn't anymore, in case you hadn't noticed."

  "It's not my fault there hasn't been electricity since the storm and the stove doesn't work and I don't know how to cook," Alex said. "How long will the can of beans last us?"

  "Depends whether we eat it or just look at it," Julie said.

  "You boil water in a pot, right?" Alex said. "Over a flame."

  "Yeah," Julie said.

  "Well, we have the pot," Alex said. "And we still have running water. So the only thing we don't have is the flame."

  "We could set fire to the apartment," Julie said. "Then we'd have the flame and we'd be warm for a change."

  "Fire," Alex said. "We'll make a fire."

  "Inside the apartment?" Julie asked. "Like a campfire?"