Pulse ; No Power

by Skylar Finn

  “You!” Ailani demanded, pointing at Israel. “Go into Trip’s medicine cabinet and see if you can find any painkillers. He’s going to need them.”

  Israel hesitated, pursing his lips.

  “What is it?” Ailani said.

  “We raided Trip’s house for drugs when we first got here,” Israel admitted. “There’s, like, nothing left.”

  Ailani scanned the room. No one made eye contact with her. Adam scratched his head. Eden examined the paint chipping off her nails. The two nameless ones exchanged a perplexed stare.

  “You. Are. Worthless.” Ailani made her way to the front of the couch to make sure everyone could see her. “You’re not Trip’s friends. You’re users, parasites who clamped on to him as soon as he had the tiniest bit of success.” She closed in on Israel’s face. “Here are the rules from now on. Number one: don’t let Jacob back in. Number two: ration your food like Trip asked you to. Number three: if you decide to be an asshole, you’ll get kicked out too. Guess what, people? This isn’t a fucking vacation!”

  The group stared at her, stunned silent, as her voice echoed around the living room.

  “Out!” she ordered. “We’re done.”

  They scattered, leaving Walt and Ailani to deal with Trip’s injuries on their own.

  “Help me get him upstairs,” Ailani said.

  Together, they hoisted Trip between the two of them. His head lolled as blood ran down his chin. He was hardly conscious.

  “Doesn’t have much of a pain threshold, does he?” Walt grunted as they heaved him up the steps. “I can’t believe he passed out.”

  “He’ll be fine,” Ailani said. “But we’re going to need that bourbon.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “You have to.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  They were up in Trip’s bathroom. He was in the tub, fully-clothed, his mouth still bleeding. According to Ailani’s inspection, he’d lost three teeth to Jacob’s sucker punch. Thankfully, he hadn’t looked in the mirror yet. As soon as he did, he would reconsider his career.

  Ailani placed the bourbon on the lip of the tub. “Just swish it around for thirty seconds to get rid of the bacteria. That’s all.”

  Trip eyed the bottle with disdain. “I don’t even like bourbon.”

  He spoke with a lisp and a slur now.

  “Thirty seconds. Then you can spit it out.” Ailani poured a shot into a paper cup and handed it to Trip. “Normally you’d get antibiotics for this sort of thing, but this is all we got.”

  Trip took the cup. He closed his eyes then dumped the bourbon in his mouth. For a second, he didn’t react. Then he let out a wail of pain that echoed so loudly around the bathroom, Ailani fought the urge to cover her ears. The bourbon gargled in Trip’s throat. He coughed on it, spraying bloody booze across the white tub tiles.

  “Here.” Walt came in with a bottle of fresh water. He tipped some into Trip’s mouth, who swished it around and spat it out. Walt gave him more to actually drink. “There you go. Just relax.”

  “Did you find anything?” Ailani asked.

  Walt produced a pill bottle from his pocket. “Vicodin. Found it in Eden’s purse. It’s prescribed to Trip though.”

  “For my wisdom teeth,” Trip muttered weakly. “Got ‘em out last summer.”

  “I’d cut the pills in half if I were you,” Walt said. “There are only four or five in there.”

  Ailani tipped one of the pills in her hand and used Walt’s pocket knife to split it in half. “Here, Trip. Go ahead.”

  He swallowed the painkiller. Walt got a clean towel and placed it behind Trip’s neck. He fell asleep with his mouth open. Ailani wet a washcloth with cool water and used it to clean the blood from Trip’s lips and chin.

  “I heard the others talking,” Walt whispered as Ailani worked. “They’re going to steal the rest of the food and hide it for themselves.”

  Ailani gnashed her teeth. “Then I guess we have to steal it first.”

  5

  They waited until everyone else had gone to bed. Thankfully, Trip’s friends weren’t the proactive type. If they had a plan to steal the food in the place, it wasn’t happening tonight. When the house was quiet, Ailani and Walt snuck downstairs to the first floor. It was the first time Ailani had been there, but Walt—with his penchant for snooping—already knew his way around. When he opened the locker, they both groaned at the sight inside.

  “There’s nothing left!” Ailani commiserated.

  The shelves were practically empty. All of the perishable food in the freezer section was gone, eaten up by Trip’s greedy friends. The non-perishable stuff survived because no one wanted to eat canned tuna or beef jerky unless they had to, although it was getting to that point.

  “We won’t last longer than a few days,” Walt said. “Especially with eight people to feed.”

  Ailani grabbed an empty cardboard box and started loading it with food. “That’s why we’re down here. We’re not going to feed eight people. We’re going to feed three: you, me, and Trip. Everyone else can go to hell. Start passing me some cans.”

  Walt obeyed, tossing cans of soup into the cardboard box. “You know what this means, right? We’re sabotaging Trip’s friends. We’re choosing to keep ourselves fed over them.”

  “Would you rather starve?”

  “No, but—” Walt paused in stacking cans. “This is when it starts getting hard, when we have to take sides. They aren’t going to be happy about this.”

  Ailani moved on to the packets of beef jerky. “Look, Walt. If Trip’s friends hadn’t been utter assholes to begin with, we wouldn’t be in this position. They’re the ones who went through his stash in less than two weeks, so they’re the ones who can figure out where to get their meals from here on out. I’m not about to let their stupidity ruin my chance at surviving this EMP crap.”

  “So where do we put all this?” Walt asked. “If we leave it in the house, they’re going to find it.”

  “Not if we put it in Trip’s wine cellar.”

  “He has a wine cellar?”

  “With a lock and everything.” Ailani set the full box aside and began loading another. “It’s got one of those cool trap door entrances, so no one knows about it. He never told his friends about it because he has invaluable vintages down there that he didn’t want to share.”

  “Hang on,” Walt said. “How do you know about Trip’s secret wine cellar.”

  Ailani winked at him. “You’re the only one who likes to sneak around.”

  They found the key to the wine cellar in the drawer of his bedside table. The entrance was in the floor of Trip’s library, hidden beneath an accent rug. When they fit the key in the lock, the door lifted open to reveal a tightly-wound spiral staircase that descended to the secret cellar. Space was tight. They couldn’t carry the cardboard boxes through the trapdoor. For hours, Walt passed items from the boxes to Ailani, who stacked everything neatly next to Trip’s priceless wines. Once they had finished, it was almost dawn, and they were exhausted. They locked the cellar, covered up their tracks, and went upstairs to finally get some sleep. Their peace didn’t last long.

  Israel burst into their bedroom around ten o’clock, leaping onto their bed and pinning Walt by the throat. “Where is it? Where did you idiots put the food?”

  “Pineapple juice!” Walt gasped. “That’s my safe word. Get off, you prick!”

  Walt kicked Israel off of him as Adam and Eden joined the fray.

  “The food’s gone!”

  “Where is everything?”

  “What are we supposed to eat for breakfast?”

  Israel ripped the blankets off Walt and Ailani’s bed. Walt flexed, at ease in the midst of all the chaos, but Ailani reached for a pair of pajama pants. Being in your underwear around a bunch of angry models and actors wasn’t exactly an ego boost.

  “What do you want?” she snapped at the invaders. “Get out of here!”

  “You took all the food,” Israe
l hissed. “Where is it?”

  Ailani kept a straight face. Actually, she kept a confused face, one that Walt found convincing too. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What happened to the food?”

  “It’s gone,” Israel said. “There’s nothing left in the storage locker. Don’t play dumb. You must have overheard us planning to steal it and took it all for yourself first.”

  “You want to know what I think?” Ailani rubbed her eyes and yawned. “I think you probably should have listened to Trip when he asked you to ration the food. Maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation then.”

  Israel let out a growl under his breath. Without Jacob around to moon after, he wasn’t in the best of shape. Usually, he was impeccably dressed and groomed. Today, his hair was frizzy and unkept, and he smelled faintly of garlic and onions, as though it was coming through his pores. His nails had grown too long, and he had started biting them. He’d lost some muscle mass from not being able to get in touch with his personal trainer as well as gained weight around his midsection from eating all of Trip’s saved food. All in all, it wasn’t a good look.

  “Listen to me, you little shit,” he said, climbing onto the foot of the bed. Ailani curled her feet up. “We’re Trip’s actual friends, not a couple of stupid assistants who don’t matter. Trip invited us here to keep us safe. Why he invited you too is anyone’s guess, but if I tell him that you’ve hidden the food—”

  “Go tell him.”

  Israel stopped short. “What?”

  Ailani shoved Israel off the bed with the bottom of her foot. “Go tell Trip. Tell him you want me and Walt booted out of the house. Let’s see what he says.”

  The underwear model glared at her and wiped the place where her foot had rested against his chest. “Fine. I’ll tell him right now.”

  He marched off, jerking his head at the others. They followed him down the hall to Trip’s room. Walt yawned and stretched.

  “Are you sure that was the best idea?” he asked. “What if Trip takes their side?”

  “Then we’re better off without him and the rest of them anyway.” Ailani climbed out of bed and put her slippers on. “Are you coming or not? I never said we weren’t going to defend our ground.”

  Walt hopped out of bed but didn’t bother with a shirt or slippers. He was as confident about his body as Israel was not. “I love when you get petty.”

  Trip’s bedroom door was locked, so Walt and Ailani stayed back to watch Israel and his cohorts attempt to make their way inside. Israel, despite his anger, knocked politely on the door.

  “Knock harder,” Adam hissed.

  “I can’t,” Israel shot back. “I’m supposed to have a shoot next weekend, and I can’t have bruises all over my hands. My publicist will kill me. Not to mention the photographer.”

  Adam rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. Walt snorted.

  “Got something to say?” Israel asked.

  “Nah,” Walt replied. “Actually, yes. Are you dumb enough to think your photo shoot next weekend is actually going to happen? Look around, Is. The world ain’t picking up its usual pace anytime soon.”

  Israel’s lip twitched. He hammered harder on Trip’s door. “Trip! Hey, man, wake up! We’ve got a situation out here. It’s your house, so it’s your job to deal with it.”

  “He’s probably asleep.” Ailani crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. “Getting half your teeth punched out of your mouth by one of your supposed best friends is exhausting. Besides, his mouth is so swollen, he won’t be able to talk anyway.”

  “They never would have fought if you two weren’t here,” Israel said. “Trip! Let me in. Hello? Come on, man—”

  The door opened suddenly, and Israel tumbled forward as his weight shifted across the threshold. He stumbled into Trip’s arms, who set him upright before returning to his bed without a word. Israel and his groupies followed him in, as did Walt and Ailani. They weren’t going down without a fight.

  Trip climbed under the covers. Ailani grimaced when she got her first full look at his face. His cheeks were swollen to the size of baseballs. He had deep purple bruises on his jawbone. His lips were puffy and pink, except where Jacob’s ring had cut through the skin. There were shadows beneath his eyes, and for the first time since Ailani had met him, his hair hung limp and unstyled. Without gel or makeup, Trip was an average guy with a mouth injury.

  “Shit, man.” Israel bit his lip as he examined Trip’s face from a safe distance. “Jacob really did a number on you. Then again, you kind of deserved it.”

  Walt bumped his shoulder hard enough against Israel’s. “Jackass.”

  “See?” Israel said. “This is what I’m talking about. These two don’t belong here, Trip.”

  Trip stared blankly at his friend. He took a pen and a pad of paper from the bedside table, scribbled something, and held it up. What do you want?

  “What do I want?” Israel threw his hands in the air. “Isn’t it obvious? I want them gone. Do you know what they did in the middle of the night, man? They stole all the food. Yeah, we haven’t had breakfast yet, and we’re all starving. They hid it! We can’t find it anywhere. We can’t let them stay. They’re going to kill us!”

  Adam jumped in too. “Come on, Trip. You’ve known all of us since you first moved to L.A. We’re best friends. Jacob shouldn’t have punched you, but you gotta admit you’ve been acting weird ever since the power went out. It’s like you’ve completely forgotten who you are. Seriously, why are you hanging out with assistants anyway?”

  “Yeah, Trip,” Eden agreed.

  “Excellent contribution to the conversation,” Ailani muttered under her breath to Walt. He let out a hearty chuckle, and their adversaries threw them both a collection of dirty looks.

  Trip pointed to Eden and beckoned her forward. She blushed, ecstatic to have been picked out of the group. She climbed onto Trip’s bed, arching her back as if they were filming a love scene together. Trip held up a hand, and she stopped. He wrote another note.

  You stole my Vicodin.

  Eden blushed again, but this one was born out of actual embarrassment. “I checked the date. It’s from months ago. You weren’t using it anymore.”

  Another note. I am now. There’s nothing left.

  “I’m sorry, Trip. I didn’t know you were going to need it—”

  He made a “shut up” gesture and waved her away. She scooted off the bed, her head bowed all the way to her chest as she withdrew to her brother’s side. Adam put a protective arm around her shoulders.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he assured her.

  Trip backfisted the headboard. The resulting thud echoed through the bedroom like a malfunctioning firework. Everyone, including Ailani and Walt, jumped. Ailani, like the others, gave Trip her full attention, but when Walt edged out of the room, anxiety tickled the back of her neck. Where was he going? What was she supposed to do without Walt for backup if things went south here?

  Trip pointed to each of his friends in turn, as if claiming their souls one by one. When his finger landed on them, faces dropped, suddenly unsure of their status in Trip’s eyes. They had a right to be worried. Behind the heavy bruising on Trip’s face, he was livid.

  “Trip—”

  He cut off Israel by ripping the first page off the notepad, balling it up, and chucking it right at Israel’s face. Then he wrote a fresh note on the pad and held it up.

  Get out.

  “No problem,” Israel said. “We’ll get out of your room, but first could you ask the assistants to show us where they hid the food?”

  Trip shook his head and scribbled another note.

  Out of my house.

  Israel laughed. He was that unbelieving of Trip’s decision. “That’s funny, Trip. Look, I know Jacob pissed you off, but—”

  Trip pointed at the door.

  “I don’t think he’s kidding, man,” Adam whispered in Israel’s ear.

  This registered on Israel’s face at the same ti
me that Adam spoke it. His lips became a thin white line and disappeared. His hands balled into fists. “You can’t kick us out, Trip. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

  He took a step toward Trip’s bed. It was a hunter’s step, the kind you watched a lion take on National Geographic when it was about to bring down an injured gazelle. Adam, Abel, Eden, and the other two boys advanced with Israel, moving as a collective pack. Ailani stepped out of the way, thinking they were going to attack Trip. Instead, quick as a flash, Israel grabbed Ailani and wrapped his arm around her neck, holding her from behind.

  Ailani stomped on Israel’s instep. He howled in pain, and she got out of his grasp. Before she could run, the three other boys kept her from leaving the room. She wasn’t strong enough to get rid of all three of them, although she did manage to knee Abel in the groin as he tried to restrain her.

  “Last chance,” Israel snarled. He limped to Trip’s bed. Trip stared, horrified and mute, from his Egyptian cotton linens. “It’s her or us, and believe me, you don’t want to pick her. It’s the end of the world, Trip, and I’m not above hurting people to make sure I survive.”

  “Neither am I,” Walt said from the hallway.

  Everyone scrambled when they saw Walt. The boys let go of Ailani. For a second, she was too stunned to move. Then she took cover near Trip’s bed, seeing why everyone else had moved out of the way.

  Walt had a gun.

  It was a small handgun, a Glock or whatever other brand cops were prone to carry. It was matte black and fit perfectly to the shape of Walt’s hand. He did not point it at anyone. Rather, he carried it with the muzzle directed at the ceiling, the weight of his arm resting on his hip. The most shocking thing was not the fact that Walt had a gun; it was how comfortable he looked holding it.

  “What the hell are you doing, man?” Adam demanded. “Put that down.”

  “I talk,” Walt declared. He swept the gun across the group, and everyone took another hasty step away from him. Only Ailani realized he had the safety on, and his finger was nowhere near the trigger. “You all listen.”