The Pulse by Scott B. Williams

going on today. She was grateful that Grant was with her and that he seemed so knowledgeable. She
wanted to just stay in his arms where she could momentarily forget her worries, but she felt his embrace relax, signaling an end to the hug, and she reluctantly pulled away.
    “So what do we do now?” she asked, hoping that whatever it was, they could do it together.
    “Do you still want to ride around some on the bikes? Maybe we can look for your roommate, and listen to the talk on the streets.”
    “Of course. We could try going by Joey’s place to see if she’s there. He lives in a little cottage on the grounds of an old mansion on Philip Street. It’s about three miles west of here, over in the Garden District.”
    “I know the area. It’s where the rich people live.”
    “It’s just a rental, but yeah, his parents are loaded, I think.”
    “Let’s go, but I’m getting kind of hungry. We’d better find something to eat first.”
    “I’ve got pizza in the freezer,” Casey said, “but no way to cook it.”
    “Let’s see what we can find somewhere on the way. We’re going to have to start thinking about more than lunch too; if the power stays off, food will run out fast.”
    “I didn’t think about that,” Casey said.
    “You haven’t been through a hurricane. It’s okay. Leave that to me. I know all about this stuff.”
    Casey was becoming more impressed with Grant all the time, and in a twisted kind of way, she was almost glad the lights had gone out. When she thought about it, she knew he lived alone, and with everything shut down, he probably
didn’t have too much else to do right now. This would give them a reason they otherwise would not have to spend time together—time that she hoped would help them get to know each other even better. It seemed that Grant liked her company and wanted to help her. If not, he would just do his own thing, as he was used to being on his own.
    They made their way to the busy maze of Magazine Street, which was much narrower and seemed even more crowded than St. Charles Avenue, with stalled cars, pedestrians, and throngs of other people riding bikes. They found a line outside a pita sandwich shop that was serving what food they had left and the rest of the semi-cold sodas from their coolers to customers who could pay in cash. Casey never carried bills on her, always relying on her debit card to make even the smallest of purchases. Once again she felt stupid and embarrassed and had to admit to Grant that she didn’t have any money. Grant told her not to worry, he had money on him, so they were in luck and got in line standing beside their bikes, where they could overhear all sorts of wild speculation from those around them about what could have happened. Theories ranged from terrorist attacks to government conspiracies and even an alien invasion. Many people in this city that never sleeps had been outside and had seen the bizarre lights that flashed across the sky in the wee hours of the morning. It was obvious that there was a growing sense of frustration at all the unknown aspects of the situation, and even though it was only March, by late morning it was getting hot and humid. Gathering clouds threatened the afternoon rain that was typical in the Big
Easy. When the rain started falling it would only add to the annoyance of all the suddenly stranded drivers who found themselves unable to get to wherever they had been trying to go that morning.
    Grant bought all the bottled water and Gatorade they could stuff in their book bags, along with some one-serving bags of baked potato chips, the only extra snacks the shop still had a supply of. Then they pedaled off to make their way to Joey’s house, where they hoped to find Jessica. Along the way, Casey told Grant that the relationship between Jessica and Joey probably wasn’t going anywhere. It was more of a physical attraction than anything else. Joey was arrogant and impatient and didn’t seem to care much about