Phobia: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller Read online

  “What are you telling us, director?”

  “There is a strong possibility that we don’t have everyone isolated. This is by far the most contagious and fatal virus that we have ever faced. For now we have quarantined sections of cities in the six states that have people showing early symptoms. However, we expect the death toll to rise.”

  The director paused to take a sip of water. “Dr. Talbot, would you care to share your findings so far?”

  Kate swallowed hard and stepped up to a podium that had been set up. She looked out at the numerous officials that were hanging on every word. Though they held prominent positions they were no doubt as scared for themselves and their loved ones as she was.

  “After doing further research into the virus inside of patient zero, the virus has been identified as an H9N3 virus. Essentially, we are looking at an influenza C virus that infects both humans and animals. By all accounts it appears the virus has been manipulated to make sure that it kills everyone who contracts it. As it stands it looks as though this is an act of bio-terrorism.”

  She turned the mic back over to the director. “In light of these findings, as you know, this is the reason why we have instigated cordon sanitaire. How long this will be up is unknown but at every level we need to ensure this does not get out. I do not want the public to know that this is an act of bio-terrorism. It will only create panic right now and that is the last thing we need. We already have our hands full with those inside the quarantined area. We have been in contact with the six states and Canada where it appears that it has spread through one of the passengers on the original plane. Measures are being taken to protect the citizens of the United States but I cannot stress enough that what you hear here remains confidential. We cannot allow this to run away from us.”

  “By the sounds of it, director, it looks as though it already has,” Mayor Wallace said.

  “The Epidemic Intelligence Service and the police department are working together to ensure that this doesn’t go any further. That’s all I can say for now.”

  The room was a hive of activity as people rose to their feet and went back to work. Kate overheard conversation that the electrical fencing they were putting up around the city was just the first of a two-part procedure they had in place. Large shipping containers would be trucked in to create a wall in sections that were more vulnerable to those looking to break out.

  No matter how they tried to go about it, there was still the danger of igniting a citywide riot as people assumed their human rights were being trampled upon. The fact was, the government was within its rights to take all necessary measures to ensure the protection of those not infected.

  She knew the director was only conveying what she knew. She was paying lip service to a hierarchy that was as confused as she was. The truth was this was out of control. Contained or not, it was liable to take many lives before it was over.

  Kate pulled out her phone and glanced down at a text that had come through from Frank to let her know that he had been in contact with Ella and managed to convince her to travel to their cottage. With all that was happening, at least she knew her daughter would be safe.

  SEVEN

  The bank teller stared at him as she filled the bag with envelopes of cash. With the medical mask over his face, a pair of sunglasses on and a baseball cap he must have looked like he was robbing the bank.

  “Mr. Talbot, I just want you to know that you have been a valuable client and if you have any questions or concerns I would be more than happy to discuss them with you.”

  “That’s much appreciated, Harold, but I’ll be just taking my money.”

  The bank manager had been called out after Frank made the odd request. Well, it wasn’t that odd, people closed their accounts every day around the United States but usually they would request a certified check, or have money wired to a new account. Frank had simply asked for all his money in hundred-dollar bills. He wasn’t a rich man but withdrawing a hundred and twenty grand from the bank in cash raised a few eyebrows. What most weren’t aware of was two-thirds of the money in banks was simply digital, nothing more than figures on a screen. So of course it was tough to have to pull together that amount without raising a few eyebrows.

  “You mentioned to Sarah here,” he tapped the bank teller’s shoulder, “that you were thinking of taking a vacation. Anywhere nice?”

  Harold was attempting small talk. Trying to come up with any reason to convince Frank to keep his money in the account. It was business of course. He didn’t give two shits about Frank. But the bank would lose money. They wanted to make money using their customers’ cash, they wanted the high fees every month from ATM transactions and god knows what else they could ding a person for. It was almost liberating taking his money back. It felt like he was giving the establishment the middle finger.

  “How many times have we chatted, Harold?”

  “Uh, I’m not sure.”

  “Twice, if you include today. You don’t know me. I don’t know you. Let’s leave it that way.”

  When Frank came out with a duffel bag of money, he rushed over to the idling truck, hopped in and shouted, “Go. Go. Go!”

  Sal looked panicked for a second until Frank burst out laughing. “You should have seen your face.”

  “Shit, Frank. For a second I thought you had robbed the bank.”

  He laughed. “The funny thing is, I have, I’ve robbed them of all the interest they were going to earn off my money, those scandalous fat cats are going to have heart attacks when the shit hits the fan and everyone begins making withdrawals.”

  As they pulled away, he could see Sal looked on edge. He placed his hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Sal, relax.”

  Sal looked at his hand and smiled. “You did it! We are making progress.”

  It suddenly dawned on Frank that he had touched him. It was something that he’d always been averse to. In fact, it was one of the reasons why his marriage fell apart. Of course he hugged Ella and Kate but it wasn’t easy. At one time it was but over the years he had allowed his mind to get the better of him. Over time, Sal had slowly been helping him to see that coming in contact with people wasn’t always a death sentence. Though it was difficult at first, he was coming around to it. Frank’s anxiety had gone from being a ten to around a three when anyone brushed up against him while out shopping.

  Frank snorted. “You never switch off, do you?”

  “Nope. Gloria hates it but what can you do? I work with people all day long, it’s hard to turn off.”

  “Do you want to swing by your house and pick them up?”

  “Actually, probably best we get all the food and goods back.”

  They drove for another few minutes and Frank cast him a sideways glance. “You still think it’s not going to make its way north, don’t you?”

  Sal didn’t immediately reply, he looked sheepish, and pretended to act as though his entire focus needed to be on the road ahead.

  “I’m telling you, Sal, if you wait until the last minute on this, you are going to regret it.”

  “That’s your phobia speaking.”

  “Whatever, I’m just saying, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

  And there it was. A response that he knew many would have. Of course it would probably take several days before the sickness found its way into Clayton, New York, but then on the other hand it might have already arrived. There would always be those who didn’t get alarmed at the announcement of a storm heading their way, especially if they had been through one before. He couldn’t blame Sal. It was normal for people to place their faith in the government to solve a crisis but the truth was, at the end of the day they were just people, prone to make mistakes. The only sure thing was to live a life that was proactive.

  “You think I’m an idiot, don’t you?”

  “No, why would you say that?”

  “Because you use the same bank, right?”

  Sal nodded.

  “You didn’t withdraw your money,
you haven’t bought anything. You don’t think this is going to happen, do you?”

  “It’s not that, Frank. I’m not blind to what’s going on but if I was to react every time the news mentioned a virus, a terror attack, a storm brewing or an earthquake, I would be divorced by now.”

  “So it’s Gloria? You want me to speak to her?”

  Sal tapped the side of the truck. “No. Yes. I mean, I don’t know. Like I don’t know what’s going to happen.” He turned onto the street that led down to the harbor. “Perhaps…”

  “I’m taking it too far?”

  He sighed. “I’m your psychologist, Frank. Any of my peers would question my sanity if they knew that I was buying into media scare tactics.”

  “So that’s all you think it is? Just the media pumping out fear?”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  Frank looked ahead as they made their way back to the parking lot. There was a few minutes of silence as they pulled up. Just before Frank got out he said, “But is it the first time Kate has been this worried?”

  He let that sink in as he got out and started collecting bags of groceries and taking them over to the boat. At the end of the day he didn’t care what Sal did, his only responsibility was to his family. Sal was a good guy. They had been through a lot together but he didn’t owe him anything. He paid for the sessions and he could sleep tonight knowing that he had warned him. What other people chose to do was their business but he wasn’t going to be caught with his pants down, and the wind chafing his ass cheeks.

  As he was loading the boat with supplies, he noticed there appeared to be a lot more people down at the harbor than earlier. Some of them looked concerned, others were joking. He had to wonder if people were beginning to take the news reports seriously. Of course there was a good chance that it wouldn’t make its way to Clayton but people weren’t idiots around these parts. He’d seen the way they reacted when East Coast storms swept in off the ocean and they reaped the tail end of it. People around these parts were cautious, at least the ones he’d met. But sickness was something entirely different to a storm. It could be held back, contained and treated. The very realization of this could make people less hasty to react. Frank glanced at Sal who was helping him carry everything to the boat. Once they had it loaded, a look of concern, perhaps doubt spread across his face.

  “Well, Frank, I should get back to my family.”

  “The invitation is still there, Sal, if you want it.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  He turned to walk away and Frank called out to him. “Sal, if you need me to come pick you up, just give me a call, okay?”

  He raised a hand. “Will do.”

  Frank hesitated a moment before getting into his boat and yanking the cord to the outboard motor. It rumbled to life and he eased his way out across the St. Lawrence River as the afternoon sun bore down a steady heat.

  WHEN FRANK ARRIVED HOME, he unloaded the bags and stacked the shelves before stepping back and going over his list again. He had picked up seeds in the event that they were stranded on the island for longer than six months. They would need a way to produce food. It was mainly beans, carrots, peas, and a few others that he snatched up without even looking to see what they were. It gave him some peace of mind but he had this nagging thought that he’d forgotten something.

  He went up and down the shelves multiple times double-checking expiration dates, and that’s when it dawned on him. Gas! It wouldn’t take long before they would start rationing gas, and then if things got really bad, delivery of gasoline would stop and they would have to make do with whatever they had. That wasn’t the only thing he needed. A generator would come in handy. All he had was that damn furnace and electrical backup, which of course would probably shut down eventually. There was the wood stove but he had to think beyond that. A hybrid generator would be ideal, something that if they ran out of gas they could still power it using the sun.

  Frank went into his kitchen and switched on his laptop. He browsed local online retailers for a few minutes looking for a store that might sell a hybrid solar-powered and gas generator. He wanted something that could be stored easily and wouldn’t take up too much space on the boat. It needed to put out a few thousand watts at two amps or more. He tapped his chin as he swiped his way through site after site. Then, he spotted one at a local Walmart, which was only thirty minutes away. He’d have to go outside of Clayton, take NY-12 south. He rarely ventured beyond Clayton because going into town was a struggle in itself. Walmart usually meant larger crowds and if he showed up there with a mask over his face, he was going to get some strange looks from folks. Was it really worth it?

  Frank went back and forth in his mind over the next ten minutes. He left the house, only to return and toss his keys down. “We’ll make do.”

  Five minutes later he was back down at the boathouse banging his fist against the side of the boat. “C’mon! It’s just a short thirty-minute trip. In and out.”

  He must have returned to the house four times before he finally got the nerve to follow through. When he made it to the other side and pulled away in his truck, he felt better. This was what it was all about, exposure to anxiety provoking situations. There was nothing more anxiety provoking than a trip to Walmart. If any place was disease-ridden, it was there.

  Surprisingly it wasn’t as bad as he imagined.

  He arrived, slipped in the back entrance where they serviced vehicles, found what he needed and paid for it at the self-service checkout so he could avoid all the lines. He was back on the road within twenty minutes. By the time he made it back to Clayton, the sun was beginning to wane behind the trees. He pulled into the parking lot and then realized that he was going to need assistance getting the damn generator from the truck to the boat. A Walmart employee had given him a hand to load it in. He stood there looking at it and feeling frustrated when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

  “Looks like you did learn a thing or two from me.” Butch Guthrie pulled up alongside his vehicle in a 4 x 4. Riding shotgun was one of his brothers. He gave them a sideways glance.

  “Need a hand unloading?”

  Frank cleared his throat. “Um…” He really didn’t want to get into it with them but there was no way he was going to be able to drag that box across the gravel and heave it into the boat. He’d wanted to get something smaller than the generator he picked up but there wasn’t much choice.

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  Butch chuckled as he shut the engine off and hopped out. Both of them looked like they could have eaten a full-size cow every night. They ambled over, and his brother Dougie spat out some tobacco and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Frank dropped the back down on the truck and hopped up to shuffle the box over.

  “So, expecting a major grid outage?”

  Frank tried to play it down. “Nah, I’ve been meaning to get one of these for a while now. You never know how things are going to go, right?”

  “That’s what I tell my customers,” Butch said groaning under the weight of the box. Once it was unloaded, all three of them shuffled down to the weathered dock and lowered the box into the boat.

  “You closed up early today?” Frank asked.

  “Yeah, seems we’ve got word from some friends of ours in Atlanta that things have taken a turn for the worse.” He straightened up and rubbed his hand across his lower back. “But you knew that, right?”

  Both of them gave him a menacing stare and for a brief moment he got a sense that they were going to do something.

  “No, I should probably call Kate, find out what’s going on.”

  “Yeah, you do that. Perhaps you can update us later tonight. You got my number, right?”

  “No, I don’t think I do.”

  “Dougie, give me a pen.” All the while he didn’t take his eyes off Frank. It was disconcerting to say the least. Dougie fished around inside his jacket and pulled out a pen but not before spitting a huge wad of black gunk out th
e corner of his mouth and wiping his lips again. Frank could literally feel his skin crawling as he watched him hand over the pen. Butch scribbled on an old gas receipt and handed it to Frank. Frank stared at it for a second as it hung in the air between his fingers. He breathed deeply. He could almost hear Sal telling him to take deep breaths.

  He took it and slid it into his pocket. The second they were out of his sight he was going to cover his hand in sanitizer, and more than likely take a shower when he got back to the cottage.

  Frank thanked them and stepped into his boat. It moved beneath his feet and he steadied himself before starting the motor and pulling away. Now any normal person would have gone on their way, returned to their truck and driven off before he had even made it out of the dock. Not them. They stood there watching him like they were judging his every move. It was only when they became a speck in the distance that he saw them walk away. Creepy assholes.

  After docking the boat, he now had the challenging task of hauling the generator up to the house. Fortunately he still had a tow dolly that he’d used from way back in the day, stored inside the boathouse. Wrestling that generator was beyond difficult. It wasn’t so much that it was heavy as it was awkward.

  Once he had it on the dolly and brought it up to the house, he stopped and wiped the sweat from his brow. He glanced at his watch. It wouldn’t be long before Ella would be here. She’d probably call from the parking lot and he would make his way over to get her. He shot her another text just to make sure everything was okay. There was no reply. Usually he would get one within five to ten minutes. Surely, classes would be done for the day? he thought as he returned to the boathouse and brought up the extra blankets, and tools he’d bought.

  After getting settled, he went over to the fridge and pulled out a beer. He rolled it around the back of his neck while keeping the door open and seeing what they could have for supper. He wasn’t used to cooking for anyone. The last two years had been a series of eating out, heating up frozen dinners and making simple pasta dishes. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to cook, he just couldn’t deal with all the work that was involved.