Read The Dead And The Gone for Free Online Page A

on the list, there was no reason to think she was dead. That was something he could tell his sisters.
    “Not many names,” a man said, looking over the list.
    “Most of the bodies can’t be identified,” another man replied. “A lot washed out to the sea. And they’re still removing bodies from the subways. You looking for anyone in particular?”
    “No,” the first man said. “Well, a couple of people, but not family. How about you?”
    The second man shook his head. “There’s one friend we’re concerned about but that’s it. We’re lucky.”
    Alex turned away from the list of the dead and saw several pages of handwritten names, with phone numbers next to them.
     
    HAVE YOU SEEN ANY OF THESE PEOPLE?
    Write Down the Name, the Last Known Sighting, and Phone
    Number to Contact with Information
     
    Willing his hand not to shake, Alex wrote down his parents’ names, putting
Puerto Rico
next to his father’s and
7 train
next to his mother’s. Then he wrote their home phone number, sending up a quick prayer that his sisters wouldn’t be the ones to answer the phone if anyone called with bad news.
    The first man looked over at Alex and read what he’d written. “Your parents?” he asked.
    Alex nodded, not sure he could trust himself to speak.
    “You okay?” the man asked. “You have someone to look after you?”
    Alex nodded again.
    “Puerto Rico,” the second man read. “By the coast or inland?”
    “Coast,” Alex choked out.
    The second man shook his head. “San Juan was hit hard,” he said. “All the coast. You and your family will be in my prayers.”
    “Mine, too,” the first man said, gently resting his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “If you need help, you know someone at St. Margaret’s will be here for you. We’re family here, don’t forget that.”
    “I won’t,” Alex said. “Thank you.”
    The two men walked away, their places taken immediately by two others. Alex checked out the rest of the notices on the bulletin board. Monday was going to be a national day of mourning. Schools would reopen on Tuesday. Curlew was still in place. A Mass for the dead would be held daily at 6:00 PM until further notice.
    Alex left the church uncertain where to go, but ending up on Amsterdam Avenue. What few cars were on the street whizzed their way uptown. Alex walked the two blocks to Joey’s pizza parlor. The door was locked, but he looked through the window and spotted Joey behind the counter. Alex knocked on the window, and when Joey looked up, waved.
    Joey walked over to the door and unlocked it. “I’m glad to see you,” Joey said. “I wanted to call but no phones.”
    “I know,” Alex said. “Are you going to open?”
    Joey shook his head. “The ovens are okay,” he said. “But there’s no refrigeration. I’ve lost all my cheese. Can’t have pizza without cheese.”
    “The electricity’s supposed to be back by Monday,” Alex said.
    “That’s what they say,” Joey said. “But what if it comes and goes? And what if the phones don’t work good, either? People call in for pizzas. No, I’m shot. The chains’ll figure a way. Pay off the right people, get all the service they need. But us little guys, we’re goners.”
    “I guess I’m out of a job then,” Alex said.
    “You and me both,” Joey said. “My wife’s already after me for us to move. She says this is just the beginning.”
    “You think so?” Alex asked. “I figure the scientists are working on solutions. And the government. If we get electricity back, that’ll make things better right there.”
    Joey shook his head. “I’m not ready to give up, but my wife’s got a point,” he replied. “It’s not like the tides just hit Wednesday night, like one of those tsunamis, one-shot deal.  Tides are twice a day, every day. Full moons will really be killers.”
    “But people will just move away from the coast,” Alex said, trying to sound calm and rational, trying not to think of his father. “Lots of