The Dead and the Gone: Chapters 15–19

He’d known that would happen eventually, but he’d devoted a fair amount of prayer that it might last until they moved out.

The question became if his sisters, Bri in particular, could make it until then.

“They’re for the families of essential personnel, to make things bearable until we get out.”

“I don’t see why not,” Alex said, quickly calculating how much food they had in the house and how long it could last if he and Julie didn’t eat lunch at school.

Of all Papi’s janitorial obligations, this was the one he liked the least, so Carlos and Alex had done the brunt of the shoveling.

Kevin was lying facedown, and Alex’s first thought was that he would suffocate in the snow.

If Kevin had been alive, even if his life were just a flicker, he would have laughed at scaring Alex so effectively.

Maybe, he thought, the diamond ring and the gun could buy Bri a safe way to get to the convoy.

“I have some very sad news to convey,” Father Mulrooney informed the handful of boys that made up the student body of St. Vincent de Paul Academy.

His death will be profoundly felt in our community.

Bri was huddled in the sleeping bag, but even though she had on two coats and several blankets, she was still shaking from cold.

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.

It didn’t make that much of a difference, but Alex was grateful that Julie made the effort.

They still had to navigate Columbus Circle and walk a mile’s worth of city streets.

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.

“No convoys because of the quarantine.”

“We can’t expose Bri to the smoke,” he said.

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.

But Alex was too angry to be rational.

Shards of glass fell onto the snow.

And he hadn’t risked his immortal soul by killing himself.

She should be arrested for treason.

“We found a bottle of aspirin, so we dissolved pills in the soup,” Julie said.

He looked at his little sister and tried to allocate blame so it all fell on her, but he couldn’t.

He’d spent seven months unable to talk Bri out of her obsession that Mami and Papi would be coming home any minute now.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded, as though Bri’s fate would be different if Julie had only had the good sense to tell him.

The voice he’d grown to hate within him said that maybe whoever had taken Bri had disposed of her body somewhere and that was what they really were looking for.

Her delusions had led to her death.

Christ, in His mercy, couldn’t possibly condemn Julie to death just because her older brother was stubborn and stupid.

He walked in, found it empty, also, genuflected before the cross, then went to the pew in the section for seniors, knelt, and began to pray.

Your timing, Mr. Morales, is impeccable.

That should suffice to get him to St. Ursula’s, and once there, I’m sure he’ll be allowed to stay until he can find a more suitable location.

As long as I’m with her to vouch for her, I don’t think anyone will question Julie too carefully.

“We’ll be on the same bus together, but it will cause less suspicion if you don’t sit together.”