The Pulse

“It’s not safe back there. It’s much more dangerous up there around the state line than it is where we’re going. I don’t know where the three of you were trying to go, but you wouldn’t have made it on those bicycles. It’s a wonder someone hadn’t already killed the boy you were with and raped you and your friend, then killed you both; that kind of thing is happening everywhere, whether you know it or not. I don’t know what you three were thinking, traveling the roads like that.”

“We were fine, until you came along,” Casey said. “I don’t know who you think you are, and why you think you’re above the law, but you’re going to pay for this when you get caught! You can’t take someone prisoner against their will just because the power is off.”

“You still don’t get it, do you? Here’s a news flash for you: everything has changed now, in case you and your friends didn’t figure that out on your little bike ride. Where did you come from, anyway? Covington…Mandeville? None of you look like you are from around here.”

“New Orleans!” Casey spat. “And we were getting where we were going. We knew there were scumbags like you everywhere trying to take advantage of the situation. We even passed the bodies of people who were murdered. But we weren’t stupid. Grant knew what he was doing, and we had a gun too.”

“You mean this one?” Derek reached for something in one of the bags in the canoe. She saw that it was her father’s pistol. “Rule number one in using firearms for self-defense: Always Have it With You! You walked off and left this in your pack for anyone to come along and pick up. What good did you think it would do you there? You’ve got a lot to learn about survival. You’re lucky you’ve found the right teacher.”

Casey realized that if he had taken the gun from her backpack, he had obviously been watching her from the woods while she was bathing. She shuddered at the thought that she had been walking around naked on the sandbar, oblivious to having been watched the entire time.

“If I’m going to be that teacher, and we’re going to be best friends someday, as I’m certain we are, I need to know your name.”

“Screw you!” Casey said. Her voice was defiant, but not quite a shout. She didn’t want his hands on her again so she restrained herself from provoking him by yelling it too loudly.

Derek laughed and rose to a standing position, putting the gun back wherever he’d stashed it in his bags. “That’s okay, you can tell me later. As I said, we’ve got plenty of time to get to know each other, so it’s not a problem.” He took another small bag out of the canoe and squatted down in front of her again.

“Hungry?” he asked, taking something out of the bag and taking a bite of it. “I shot a deer and smoke-dried most of the meat before I put in upriver a few days ago. I’ve got enough to last for a couple of weeks. It’s good; have some,” he said, tearing off a chunk of something she could barely see in the dark and holding it up to her face. Casey turned away. It did smell a lot like the beef jerky she had been sharing with Grant, but she was far too upset to have an appetite at this point.

“I’m not hungry!” she said when he didn’t take it away.

“Okay.You will be soon enough, but you can decide when. Do what you like, but I’ve got to paddle all night. We’ll make another 15 miles before daylight. I’ll feel a lot better then, the closer we get to the big swamp. That’s where I feel most at home, and I’ve been going there so long that it’s like it’s my world down there. It’s one of the best, most unspoiled places in the whole Southeast, and there’s no way to get to the best parts except in a canoe. I can’t wait to show it to you.”

“You’re insane! I’d rather die than go see some swamp—or anyplace else with you,” Casey said.

“You may think that now, but you’ll change your mind. And you’re not going to die; I intend to make sure of that. If anyone tries to do you harm, it will be them doing the dying. I’ve been doing this kind of stuff alone for too long, and I’m through with that. I need you to stay alive, and you need me in order to do that, so let’s just say we’ve got ourselves a mutually beneficial relationship here, and see if we can’t just get along.”

Casey still couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and she was even more surprised when Derek pulled the canoe back into the river and resumed paddling without touching her again. She had been certain that he would do something to her immediately, but now, after listening to him talk, she concluded that he must be even crazier than she imagined. She was beginning to think that he actually believed she would somehow start to like him, look upon him as her protector, become his lover, and live happily ever after with him in some remote swamp! As dangerous as his delusions likely made him, however, she was overwhelmingly relieved that he had not tried to do anything to her yet, and because of what he thought would develop between them eventually, she could at least half-believe that he wasn’t about to kill her at any moment, as she’d feared when she was first abducted.

* * *

Artie couldn’t recall ever seeing so many vultures in one place. They were wheeling overhead by the hundreds, gliding in tight spiraling circles, while hundreds more congregated on the concrete railings of the two massive bridge spans they were about to sail under. Connecting New Orleans East to the north shore city of Slidell, the Interstate 10 Twin Span Bridge was one of the major traffic arteries out of the city, and had apparently been the scene of a massive exodus sometime in the previous days. Their first glimpse of this bridge pretty much confirmed all that Craig had told them about conditions in the city. Aside from the grotesque sight of so many of these big black birds of death, stalled vehicles were strung out along the overhead lanes for as far as they could see from their perspective on the water. Some of them appeared to have been burned in the days since the pulse left them stranded there, and lots of smoke could be seen off in the distance in the direction of the city to the southwest. A few haggard-looking people were walking on the bridge among the abandoned cars and vultures, all of them apparently headed away from New Orleans, using both the north and southbound lanes as escape corridors. Some of them yelled down at them like the teenagers on the Overseas Highway near Marathon had done, while others just leaned over the rail and stared, but at least here no one threw anything at them. Because of that incident in Florida, Larry had asked Artie to bring the shotgun on deck before they sailed under the bridges. He hoped they wouldn’t need it, but said they needed a means of deterring anyone who might have a similar idea here, as rocks the size of the one that had barely missed them that night, thrown from a height, could do serious damage to the boat or even kill someone.

Beam-reaching on a light breeze out of the south, they soon cleared the bridge and the overpowering smell of death that surrounded it. “I sure hope Casey didn’t try to leave,” Artie said, his face pale and his stomach twisting as the horrific scene on the bridge receded astern.

“I doubt she would have,” Larry said. “After all, the only way she could have gotten out would have been to try to walk. I’m sure she and Jessica and maybe some of her other friends are holed up somewhere on the campus and are just fine. I think she’s too smart to do anything stupid.”

“I hope you’re right, but this is one unbelievable scene. I can’t imagine how frightened she must be. I just hope she and Jessica stayed inside out of sight and have had enough to eat all this time.”

“I think we’ll find that she’s just fine, but a lot of these people must have really suffered. It looks at least as bad here as Craig said it was, doesn’t it? And I’m sure it’s only going to get worse, but at least we’re here. Now we just need to get in and get out while we still can.”

Despite his worry and dread, Artie could scarcely contain his relief when he first saw the skyline of downtown New Orleans come into view from the deck of the Casey Nicole. They were sailing parallel to the south shore of Lake Pontchartrain from a couple of miles out, Scully steering for the elevated span where they could pass under the Causeway in the channel closest to the south shore. According to the chart, there was a vertical clearance of 60 feet at that point. Looking south to the distant, familiar buildings, Artie could dare to believe that Casey was really within his reach. After sailing some 1500 miles and surviving all the dangers they had encountered along the way, maybe they really were about to achieve what they’d set out to do.

“We won’t waste any time,” Larry said as they talked over their plan while sitting in the cockpit. “We’ll be off the south shore near the airport by mid-afternoon if this wind holds. You and Scully can paddle up that canal and find your car as soon as it gets dark enough to cover your movements. That should still give us time to sail back over and maneuver the boat as close to the canal at West End Park as possible, and hopefully you two can be on your way to the campus before midnight. With any luck, you can get her and Jessica back to the boat and we can be out of here before daylight tomorrow.”

There were a lot of unknowns and variables that could impact their plan, and as they sailed west through the lake, they discussed what they would do if things were not as they expected. One question that came up was the