Susan Pfeffer - The Dead And The Gone

"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."

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 ended 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.