Susan Pfeffer - The Dead And The Gone

"You and Bri have taken really good care of me, haven't you," Alex said.

"It wasn't so bad before the snowstorm," Julie replied. "Bri used to thaw our suppers in the microwave when we were in school. Now we keep the cans in our sleeping bag."

Alex thought about how often he'd felt burdened by his sisters. But he'd been as dependent on them for survival as they were on him. "It's only for a couple more weeks," he said. "We'll get on the next convoy. And Friday there'll be food. Until then, we'll eat macaroni and beans."

"And bugs," Julie said. "Oh well. It's better than nothing."

Friday, December 16

Alex would have preferred to keep Julie home on Friday, but they needed the two bags of food. They'd finished the macaroni and beans by lunchtime the day before, and with the minimal amount of food in each bag, there was no way they could survive on what he alone would bring home.

There was nothing in any of the apartments left to barter. Alex had searched carefully at first and then frantically all Wednesday and Thursday. He'd done it by candlelight since all the flashlight batteries had burned out. They still had two candles left and half a box of matches.

Mostly they slept. Alex wasn't sure whether that was good for them or not, but there was nothing else to do, and he figured they probably burned fewer calories that way. He saw to it that Julie prayed during her waking moments. Prayer came naturally to Bri, so that was no problem.

Everything was gone, used over months of bartering for cans of beans and bags of rice. The only things Alex could think of to bring to Harvey were the coat he was wearing and a bottle of aspirin he'd insisted on holding on to.

That wasn't true and he knew it. While he'd traded practically everything he'd found in the medicine cabinets, he'd kept a half dozen prescription sleeping pills, so if he ever had to, he could drug Bri and Julie and smother them while they were sleeping. He was sure they'd be in a state of grace when they died and that was what mattered.

He told himself not to go crazy, that Julie could figure out how to stretch two bags of food for ten days, or maybe the quarantine would be over and Vincent de Paul would reopen. If they could just make it to December 26, they had a chance.

He hated seeing how weak Julie had gotten. He knew she'd been taking less food for herself so that Bri could have a little more. Silently he begged her forgiveness for ever complaining about her.

There was no one on line when they got to the school. They both knew what that meant, but they walked up to the door anyway.

FOOD DELIVERIES SUSPENDED INDEFINITELY

Alex stared at the sign. What did "indefinitely" mean? Was it just until the quarantine ended? Or had the plug been pulled on the city? And if the city had been left to die, did that mean the convoys had stopped altogether? He willed Julie to start crying. Maybe if he had to comfort her, he wouldn't feel so helpless, so terrified, himself.

But Julie never did what he wanted her to, and this time was no exception. "It doesn't matter," she said instead. "It wouldn't have been enough."

"You're probably right," Alex said.

They began the walk home. "I'll try Harvey," he said. "I have my coat and a bottle of aspirin. Maybe he'll give me something for that."

"How can you survive without your coat?" Julie asked.

"I can manage," Alex said. "I'll just walk around wrapped in a blanket. Maybe you and Bri can figure out a way of making it more like a coat for when we go back to Port Authority, so my arms will be free to pull the sled."

Julie stood absolutely still. "I don't think we're going to need the sled," she whispered, as though there was anyone within five blocks to hear her.

"We'll need it for Bri," Alex said.

"She's down to her last cartridge," Julie said softly. "She's been using it for a couple of weeks. Sometimes at night she coughs and she doesn't use it and I think she'll die right then in the sleeping bag."

"Bri isn't going to die," Alex said. "We'll be on the convoy in less than two weeks. We just need enough food to keep us going until then."

"You sound like her," Julie said. "When she goes on about Mami and Papi still being alive."

"It's different," Alex said. "We can't do anything about Mami and Papi. But we can still keep ourselves alive. Including Bri."

"Would it help if you took my coat?" Julie asked. "It's too big for me anyway."

"Keep your coat," Alex said. "Maybe next week we'll bring it to Harvey."

They walked in silence until they got back to their building. "I'm not afraid to die," Julie said. "I figure I'm going to know more people in heaven than I do on earth anyway. Mami and Papi and Kevin. Lots of people. I just don't want to be the last one to die. That's what scares me most, that you and Bri will both die and I'll be all alone."

"That won't happen," Alex said.

Julie stared up at him, with that strange combination of extreme youth and unnatural aging. "Promise?" she said.

"Promise," he said. He hated the thought of climbing the twelve flights of stairs, but he hadn't taken the bottle of aspirin with him and he had to get it. It took them twice as long to get up the stairs as it had the week before. He didn't know how on the twenty-sixth he'd manage to carry Bri down the stairs to the sled.

She was sleeping when they got in and her breathing was labored. When her cartridge ran out, Alex told himself, that night he'd find the strength to give them the pills. They'd die peacefully and that was the best anyone could hope for.

He found the bottle of aspirin and told Julie that he was going. "Do you want me to go with you?" she asked.

"No, stay here," Alex said. He wasn't sure what he'd do if Harvey made an offer for her while she was with him. He took his time walking down the stairs, and then slowly made his way to Harvey's. He knew it was possible no food had come in during the week and Harvey might not have any to barter. He also knew Harvey might find his coat and a bottle of aspirin worthless. He knew lots of things that he didn't want to know.

But at the store he found the one thing he didn't expect: The door was locked.

Alex banged at it. Maybe Harvey was in the John. But there was no sound. Had Harvey gone? Had he somehow escaped, in spite of the quarantine?

The thought enraged Alex. If Harvey had left, he certainly would have taken his food with him. But Alex was too angry to be rational. He pulled off his shoe, and using what little energy he had left, used it to smash open the storefront window. Shards of glass fell onto the snow.

Alex put his shoe back on, reached in, and unlocked the door. Harvey was lying on the floor, his right arm stretched out, as though he was grabbing for something.

Alex took off his glove, knelt, and felt for a pulse. He couldn't find one, but Harvey was still warm, so he put his ear to Harvey's mouth to try to sense any breathing. Not that he'd know what to do if Harvey was still alive.

It didn't matter. Harvey was fresh dead. Probably no more than ten minutes. The last of a dead breed.

Alex knew he should pray for Harvey's soul, but the only prayer he could utter was "Please God, let me find some food." He stepped around Harvey and began to search.

The storefront was completely empty. Desperate, Alex opened the door to the bathroom. He found a couple of candles on the sink, and two boxes on top of the toilet.

The first box held nothing but clothes, so filthy Alex could barely make himself touch them. He threw the box onto the floor, took a deep breath, and opened the second one. It was half full with food. Two bags of rice, six cans of red beans, two of black beans, four of spinach, two of split pea soup, one of lentil, one of carrots, three of mixed vegetables, and one of sardines.