Against all odds, they managed to find an empty cabin at the end of a long and narrow path that had once been a road. Many of the houses near the lake were occupied, or concentrated in clusters, but this cabin was set well back from the water. It didn’t appear to have been visited for some time.
Nevertheless, the pantry was stocked with dry goods that were old and stale but still edible, like rice and potato flakes and cans of beans and corn and soup. In a storage closet they discovered a couple of fishing poles and a tackle box full of lures. But the most important find, as far as Thomas was concerned, was the .410 shotgun and six boxes of birdshot. This discovery convinced him there was a real chance to survive. But for Skylar these meager resources only served to prolong her misery.
Thomas wanted to talk through her feelings. His unfailing support and optimism caused resentment to swell inside her until there was no room for anything else. She ignored him or hurled obscenities at him. But instead of retaliating, he absorbed these attacks and emerged more resolute than ever.
The first time she felt sick, Skylar’s mood improved. She’d been wondering how safe it was to consume canned vegetables whose expiration dates were three and four years in the past. But Thomas seemed unaffected after eating the same meals, which meant her nausea was probably due to a stomach virus. Or stress.
But the very next morning she was ill again, and that’s when Skylar began to panic.
Until then she had ignored the spotting and cramps, probably because conscious denial was the only way to insulate herself from true madness.
But once the veil had been lifted, the was no denying a very real and terrible possibility: She could be pregnant. She could be carrying Thomas’ child.
By then only twenty-seven days had elapsed since their romantic encounter (assuming her painstaking count was correct), but there was no question when this potential fetus had been conceived.
The possibility of pregnancy left Skylar with an ugly truth: If she let herself die, she might take a fetus with her. And even though she believed in a woman’s right to choose, even though she had campaigned politically to support reproductive rights, the idea of ending a possible new life in this dying world made her cringe. Paradoxically, though she hated this new world, she also felt a reluctant obligation to it.
But Skylar wasn’t happy about the idea of a new life growing inside her, and she took her frustrations out on the man responsible for it.
“We can’t stay here,” she told him one morning a week or so later. To make their food stores last longer, they had agreed on a conservation schedule that left them hungry most of their waking hours. And she was no doubt hungrier than Thomas.
“What’s the problem now?” he asked. “Is the rice too sticky for you? The water too flat-tasting?”
“I think I’m pregnant.”
“That’s funny. You’re funny.”
“It’s not funny. It’s awful. I need more food or else it’s going to die.”
“You can’t be serious. How would you even know without a test?”
“A woman can tell,” Skylar said. “Believe me.”
“That’s—”
All at once his icy stare melted. Thomas examined her as if hoping to find truth in her eyes. Finally, he reached across the table and grabbed her hand.
“Skylar, if you’re really pregnant… I will eat less. I’ll get us more food. We have to take care of the baby.”
“It’s not a baby,” she said. “Not yet. But you’re right, if I don’t miscarry, we’ll have to find a way to provide for it. Like more food and hopefully a doctor.”
“So you think we should walk back to Greenville? Or find another town? I think there’s one a bit farther down the lake.”
“Let’s look for another town.”
That evening, while they ate small, messy chunks of fish alongside instant mashed potatoes, Thomas told her about his mother.
“It sounds like she was pretty upset with your dad,” Skylar pointed
out.
“I’m sure that made her angrier, but even before he cheated, she wasn’t very nice. I wonder if she really wanted to be a mother.”
“Some women don’t. And then they’re forced to defend their feelings, because everyone assumes something is wrong with them.”
“But why have me, then?”
“Maybe your dad persuaded her. Or maybe she gave into the guilt.”
“Maybe so,” said Thomas. He looked out the window as if answers might be found in the approaching darkness.
“I think I understand your stories a little better now,” Skylar said.
“How so?”
“In Thomas World you were searching for a woman who could save you. In The Pulse you were the savior. Probably because money made you feel more confident.”
“I didn’t consciously intend that.”
“Even so, you need to understand something: Women don’t want to be saved. They don’t want to save you, either. They want to be respected. And if they find the right guy, maybe fall in love.”
“It’s not like I don’t know that,” Thomas said. “But I guess no matter how old you get, or how strong you feel, pain from childhood sticks with you.”
“So use those feelings to power your art. Don’t make some other woman carry that burden.”
The next day they walked back to the highway. When they turned south, Skylar immediately saw a road sign announcing two towns ahead: KIOWA VILLAGE and EAST TAWAKONI. Less than an hour later, they came upon three men with rifles standing in front of a golf cart. One of the men was shorter than the rest, clean-shaven, wearing a ballcap and jeans and a green T-shirt. He addressed Thomas while the other men stole glances at Skylar.
“Can we help you folks?”
“We’re looking for a town,” Thomas said. “We saw signs for Kiowa Village and East—”
“This here is Kiowa Village,” said one of the other men, a tall and skinny fellow who didn’t sport much hair on his head but had grown plenty on his face. He looked at Skylar even as he answered Thomas. “We don’t accept strangers.”
“Will you let us pass through and try East Tawakoni?”
“Not sure you want to do that,” said the bearded man. “They had a ration plan until some teenagers broke in and stole most of the food. You can find them four boys hanging from power poles off 276. The rest are starving and desperate.”
By Skylar’s count the pulse had occurred thirty-four days prior. As bad as things were now, what would they be like in a year? Why subject a newborn to such an awful world?
“Unlike East Tawakoni,” said the shorter man, “we run an organized community. By God’s good grace and our proximity to the lake, we are poised to survive this apocalypse. We have adequate supplies of food and there is plenty of water. But like Daryl said, we don’t accept new citizens.”
Now he looked at Skylar.
“But we do make exceptions for women. We need babies.”
Skylar felt like she had fallen into the opening scene of a country-fried horror film.
But Thomas inexplicably said, “What guarantee would I have that she would be treated fairly?”
“You have my word,” said the leader. “That’s the only guarantee I have to give.”
“Sorry we bothered you,” Skylar said. She tried to turn Thomas around. “We’ll be on our way.”
“That’s your choice,” the leader told them, “but you might want to think twice before a famous actress like yourself walks around these parts looking for help. You might get more than you bargained for.”
“Then we’ll go back to where we came from. I’m not leaving my husband.”
Thomas looked at her while the short man looked at Thomas.
“Are you a doctor? A carpenter? What was your trade before all this happened?”