Read Online The Pulse: A Novel of Surviving the Collapse of the Grid by Scott B. Williams - Free Book Online

carry now.”
    The only store along the way that was open was a small corner grocery on Magazine Street that was already packed with people buying everything they could snatch off the shelves. Like the sandwich shop Casey and Grant had stopped at earlier, the grocery could only accept cash purchases because there was no way to verify credit or debit cards. Grant had a little over forty dollars left in his wallet and Jessica had a single twenty-dollar bill.
    “Jessica’s a vegetarian,” Casey said as Grant reached for the last two packages of beef jerky remaining on an end display.
    “It’s okay,” Jessica said. “Go ahead and get what you want, it doesn’t bother me as long as I don’t have to eat it.”
    “The thing is, we’ve got to get things that are lightweight, will keep without refrigeration, and, ideally, don’t require extra water to cook.”
    “Hey, how about these?” Casey asked, holding up a two-pound bag of almonds.
    “Those are great,” Grant said, “And vegetarian-safe,” he added with an amused smile.
    They were out of cash before they had purchased more than they could carry. Grant said they had done well, though, scoring a supply of several kinds of nuts, raisins and other assorted dried fruits, some bulk-packaged granola, a couple of large boxes of oatmeal that he said could be eaten uncooked if necessary, the jerky, several packages of tuna in foil, some boxes of whole-wheat crackers, two jars of peanut butter, and a couple of large blocks of Swiss cheese that he said would hold up well without refrigeration. Most of the other customers were loading up on bulky canned goods and other items that would be impossible to carry far on foot or on a bicycle. Despite their small haul, it took nearly two hours to get in and out of the grocery store. While they were in there the dark clouds that had been threatening rain since late morning finally broke open and drenched the streets, but the downpour had let up to a light drizzle by the time they were out in it.
    They tied the plastic bags on Grant’s rear rack and around the handlebars of both bikes and, pushing the bikes, made it back to Casey and Jessica’s apartment by late afternoon. Casey opened all the blinds to let in as much light as possible, and at Grant’s urging the two roommates began sorting through their clothes and shoes to find a few items that would be suitable to travel in. Casey was overwhelmed at what Grant was suggesting—that they might actually have to leave the city on bicycles . She knew Grant could do it, but she couldn’t imagine how she or Jessica could pedal for miles and miles on the open road to anywhere. But Grant wasn’t talking about just anywhere. His parents, who were currently working on an archaeology project in Bolivia, owned a small cabin on a river not too far from New Orleans. They’d used it as a weekend getaway when they were living in New Orleans for a couple of years while Grant was still in high school and his father was teaching at Tulane. That was before the hurricane destroyed their home in the city and his parents left for good.
    “It’s only about 90 miles from here,” Grant said. “It’s to the north, not far across the Mississippi state line, on a beautiful stream called the Bogue Chitto River. It would be a safe place in a situation like this. My dad thought of everything. There’s a well and generator and lots of food and other supplies stored there all the time. I was up there over the holidays to get away and work on a research paper.”
    “Ninety miles! I could never ride a bicycle 90 miles!” Jessica blurted.
    “Sure you could, Jessica. If you can ride a bike at all, you can ride it as far as you need to. You just have to take it one mile at a time,” Grant explained.
    “That’s easy for you to say,” Casey said. “You could probably ride that far in a day. But we aren’t in shape for it like you are and our bikes suck compared to yours.”
    “I’m not talking