The Agora Virus (Book 2): Anxiety

by Jack Hunt

  “Right, I can see that working — not!” Hayley said shifting from one foot to the other. She and Ella exchanged an icy glare.

  “Listen. I’m not saying this is going to be easy but we have few options. Now I’m more than willing for us to go scouting around in the town but the same amount of danger exists there as it does going over to Grindstone and getting my stuff,” Frank said.

  “How so?” Tyrell asked.

  “Abner is a prime example. The guy was holed up in his house and he fired before we even spoke with him. People are on edge. They are going to defend what they have, if they have anything at all. After seeing Joey and the others in town, I wouldn’t be surprised if Butch and his mob have already begun making their way through homes.”

  There was an awkward silence between them all.

  “You mentioned that they don’t know us. What about if we head over there like you said? Feel the place out. Find out where they’ve got the food stored and see how many are there,” Gabriel chimed in.

  “No, you can’t do that,” Hayley said.

  “What else do you want us to do?” he asked, turning to her. She shook her head and walked out of the room.

  “Look, chances are, Butch isn’t in a hurry to head over here immediately. They already got what they needed from here. It’s a risky move to do it again. Especially when they don’t know who’s on the island.”

  No one seemed to be in agreement. There was a lot of back and forth but Frank knew that without knowing what they were up against, they couldn’t exactly storm in there with guns blazing. It was the reason why Butch had visited prior to Frank leaving for Queens. It wasn’t just a neighborly visit. He was spying. Getting a feel for what he was up against. They were going to need to do the same thing.

  Sal got up and began changing back into his clothes. Gloria went and put on a pot of tea and Zach and Tyrell returned to keeping an eye on the water, taking with them an AR-15 each. Frank told them he would be out there soon to take them through how to use one. They nodded and wandered off. Gabriel was about to go with them when Frank asked to have a word with him.

  He looked back over his shoulder. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

  Frank motioned towards his study on the far side of the house. He led him through one of the corridors and they entered. It wasn’t big, just enough room for a table and a few shelves with books. He kept some of the classics, and some old encyclopedias on medicine and disease. Kate’s fascination with disease had led him into research. He missed having her around. Bouncing ideas off her and just feeling her warm body in bed with him at night.

  Gabriel took a seat across from him.

  Frank studied him and leaned back in his chair. “You know you don’t have to do this.”

  “I know. But its the least I can do.”

  “You understand that you won’t be able to go in there with any weapons, right?”

  He nodded. “I understand.”

  “And we’re going to need to find another boat. After hearing Sal whine and moan about how cold the water is, I would feel bad asking you to swim.”

  When Gabriel didn’t reply, he kind of figured that wasn’t something he wanted to do. It was more of a last resort idea if they couldn’t find another boat. There had to be more out there. Not everyone would have resorted to stealing boats.

  “You ever fired a gun, Gabriel?”

  “I’ve been at a firing range before. My old man used to go.”

  “And Tyrell and Zach?”

  “Well, I’m thinking it might be better to leave them here, you know, to keep watch over this place. Besides, if anything goes wrong, I would hate to have all of us caught up in it.”

  “I’ll go with him,” a voice said from behind them. The door was slightly ajar and Ella was standing there.

  “You’re not going,” Frank immediately replied.

  Ella leaned against the doorframe. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “What, so my life is more important than his?”

  Frank frowned. “I didn’t mean that.” He looked at Gabriel. “Really, I didn’t mean that.”

  “No? Then why not?”

  “Because he knows you, Ella. He’s seen you before. This can only work if he’s approached by people he doesn’t know.”

  “And you think he’s just going to open his arms and let Gabriel walk into the midst of them?”

  Frank rubbed both hands over his face and then rested his elbows on the table while he kneaded the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

  “There are a lot of variables at work here. I’m going with the ones that…” he trailed off. There was no way to cherry coat it. It was dangerous sending anyone in there. In many ways, it was no different than walking up to a house in the town and asking to be let in. Gabriel was liable to get beaten, and even shot if Frank was being honest. Then again, he was sure that Gabriel was aware of the danger otherwise he wouldn’t have volunteered or agreed to the half-baked plan.

  “Then what?”

  “Ella, just…”

  “If she’s going, so am I.” The competitive voice of Hayley chimed in from behind Ella. Frank placed a hand on his forehead. Oh great. This is all I need.

  “Look, if I had my way none of you would be going. And I would do it myself but that’s not happening.”

  Gabriel turned in the swivel chair. “He’s right. It’s too dangerous for you both to go in.”

  Ella placed a hand on her hip. “What, because we’re women?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Gabriel replied.

  “But you were implying it,” Hayley took the same stance as Ella.

  First they were at each other’s throats, now they were standing together over a seemingly innocent response.

  “Well hey, you want to get shot, raped, or killed then be my guest,” Gabriel said spinning back around in the leather chair.

  That wasn’t exactly instilling confidence in Frank. He hadn’t gone through hell and back to get his daughter only to lose her. That wasn’t going to happen.

  Right then, Gloria came in with a tray of tea and placed it on the table. Frank couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. It seemed too surreal. Only a week ago, he was thinking it would be only Ella, Sal, and him on the island and now they had a whole group full of more issues than he was prepared to deal with. He couldn’t believe that Gloria was serving tea in his house as though nothing was happening. And yet he knew it was her way of dealing with the unrest. No one truly knew the best way to go about dealing with the present. But one thing was sure, it had come down to a matter of survival. Butch knew that. That’s why he had waltzed in there and robbed them blind. He was hedging his bets, stocking his storehouse in preparation for the winter, and it was going to be one hell of a winter. But that was months from now. They had to deal with what was before them and right now that meant finding out more about the enemy.

  TWELVE

  Butch kicked a pail of water across the grass before grabbing hold of Joey by the ear and yelling at the others. Contrary to how people viewed him, he didn’t like getting angry for no reason. If he was honest, he actually felt bad about it but he didn’t ever tell them that. He couldn’t because they feared him. That kind of respect couldn’t be bought. It was earned.

  “I send you to do one damn thing and you couldn’t even do that? Not only do you return empty-handed but you tell me my cousin is dead?”

  “I’m sorry, Butch, we were outnumbered. There had to have been at least twenty of them.”

  “Twenty?”

  Joey nodded while wincing and bending at the waist.

  “Was it twenty, Dusty?”

  Dusty cleared his throat and looked at Joey as if he was considering his answer. “There was a lot. More than we could deal with. We’re lucky we got out of there with our own lives.”

  Butch released his vise-like grip on Joey and paced back and forth. “Why do I get the feeling you aren’t telling me the truth?�
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  He looked upon them cowering before him and a warm sense of satisfaction came over him. It didn’t matter that they had screwed up, only that they continued to show him the respect he deserved.

  “And who was leading this group?”

  They were hesitant to reply but Jackson spoke up, “It was Frank Talbot.”

  Butch stopped in his tracks. “Talbot?”

  It was getting late in the day and the sun was beginning to wane behind the trees. He hadn’t been able to get a good look at who was on Talbot’s island because of all the trees shrouding his view but he was pretty damn sure that Gloria wasn’t alone anymore. But twenty people? Could he really have gathered that many together? Had that been the reason he had left? He ran a hand over his face. Now that could be a problem, he thought. His mind was bombarded by paranoia. Was he seeking retribution? If so, why had he gone to the mainland? Twenty people? He couldn’t wrap his head around that. He’d been thinking of paying a visit to his island that evening but after this, no, he had to rethink this through. If they had shot Clarence, execution style, what would they do to him? He had a large family and plenty of firearms but even with all his brothers, sisters, and cousins those were some tough odds. Unless…

  “Ring the bell, and get the family together. We are going to have a meeting later this evening. Tell everyone, including the families that chose to remain on the island, to get over to Dodge Hall once it’s dark.”

  “And what if they don’t want to come?” Joey asked

  Butch rushed over to him and grabbed him by the ear again. “Then make them. Grow a pair and start showing me you can actually step up to the plate and do something right.”

  “You got it, Butch.” He cowered away with the others and they broke into a sprint, heading towards to the ATV’s. As the engines roared to life and he watched them leave to alert the others, it was pleasing to the eye, if only to give him a false sense of control.

  After debating the best course of action, it was decided that Gabriel and Tyrell would go over to the island. Ella fought Frank on the decision, and Hayley didn’t look thrilled, but the decision was final.

  Frank would take them across to the mainland and once they found a boat, they would head over and tell Butch they were from Watertown and were trying to escape the virus that was spreading across the country.

  They would stay there for forty-eight to seventy-two hours or until they could determine what Butch was up to and where he was keeping his supplies.

  “So run this by me again, we are basically like a Trojan horse?” Tyrell said.

  “Something like that,” Gabriel replied.

  “Great, I feel like a lamb being led to the slaughter.”

  Frank was heading east on NY-12 in Jameson’s pickup truck, towards Clayton Distillery. Before leaving the island, Jameson had told him that he knew a guy over on Washington Island, a small island connected to the village by way of the causeway. He was adamant that the guy wouldn’t have left his property and would be more than accommodating to lend them his boat in exchange for some alcohol.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, he’s a raging drunk. I guarantee it. Make sure it’s the two-dog moonshine. The old coot is crazy about that stuff.”

  “Please tell me I’m not going to have to take my clothes off again, am I?”

  Jameson let out a laugh and patted him on the back before they left.

  Now, as they made their way to the distillery, Frank couldn’t help wonder if the guy was going to be a raving lunatic like Abner Rooney. At least now, all three of them were armed.

  A deep orange sky stretched out before them as they made it to the other side.

  “I don’t see why we couldn’t just take Jameson’s boat.”

  “Because we might need it, besides if Butch catches wind that we were on the island without a boat, he’s going to put two and two together.”

  “By the sound of what Sal was saying, this Butch can barely spell, never mind count,” Tyrell muttered.

  Frank snorted. Butch might have acted as dumb as a mule in the past but he wasn’t going to lower his guard. Frank never underestimated anyone. In Iraq it could get you killed. He’d seen friends of his approach women that were all smiles only to get blown apart when it was discovered they were wearing a suicide vest. Years in the military had taught him to trust no one, except his brothers in arms. As the truck bumped its way down the road, he thought back to those days. Things were different back then, though he struggled with anxiety, and fought hard to hide his fear of germs, they were some of the better days of his life.

  There was something very primal about being stuck in the middle of a dust-filled village kicking in doors, hearing thousands of people chanting their prayers at night in the distance, never knowing when and where they would try to attack.

  It made him appreciate the quiet moments. The down time, even the conversations he had with fellow soldiers when they got assigned to shit-burning duty. He winced, at the thought. He could still smell it.

  “So, Ella told us you were in the military.”

  “I was.”

  “So what was that like?”

  He cast a glance over to them. Two young guys, just at the beginning of their lives, had no idea. No words could explain it, or at least sum it up. There was no palatable sound bite, people had to go and see for themselves. He hadn’t stayed in contact with anyone from the military since leaving. After getting back he just wanted to be left alone. Nothing that he did over there felt special, and yet like other jarheads, he didn’t want civilians to forget.

  He was about to answer but they were getting close to the distillery.

  “Are you sure the cops aren’t still active?”

  “Believe me, they are long gone.”

  He veered right in front of the River Golf sign and down onto the gravel driveway that led up to the one-story shack. Made from knotty pine planks, it stood out like a sore thumb against the backdrop of fields. The place had always reminded Frank of an old church without a steeple. The lot was empty and from the looks of it the neighboring mini golf establishment was the same. The fear of that which could kill preceded any need to earn a living. How long it would remain like that was unknown but he was pretty sure their doors wouldn’t open again.

  “Right, listen up, once inside we find the moonshine and get the hell out. I don’t want to be dicking around here.”

  “Why would we?” Gabriel asked. Frank looked past him to Tyrell. It wasn’t Gabriel he was concerned about. The entire journey back from Queens had been like a nonstop joke to this kid. It was only when they arrived in Watertown and he discovered his parents were dead, that the other shoe dropped. For a while Frank thought that might be the turning point for him but nope, it didn’t take him long to return to acting like a jackass.

  “Just, stay close.”

  Frank hopped out and pulled out his rifle from the back of the truck and double-timed it around the rear of the building. He used the butt of his gun to break a window. As the glass shattered on the floor inside, he waited for an alarm to go off but there was nothing.

  “Looks like you were worrying about a whole load of nothing, Mr. T.”

  “I told you to stop calling me that.”

  “Take a chill pill, old man.”

  Tyrell scoffed as he made his way inside. He used his jacket to cover the frame of the window and with the assistance of both of them he clambered in. Next was Gabriel then Frank. Once in, all three of them took in the sight of the rectangular loft-style building. At one end was a store where they sold shirts, hats, and alcohol and at the other end was a distillery filled with large metal vats.

  Tyrell was in the middle of saying how easy it was to get inside when Frank spotted the sensor in the far corner. Before he could grab Tyrell, he stepped right into its line of sight. Alarm bells started ringing. It was deafening.

  “Find the panel to turn that shit off.”

  Frank rushed to one end while the others went
to the other and scrambled around looking for an alarm system. A few minutes into the ear-bleeding noise, it stopped. He exhaled and turned to see Tyrell holding several wires in his hand.

  “Found it.”

  Over the next five minutes they searched the store and filled up a bag with four bottles of moonshine. They had three different flavors: lemonade, cherry, and apple. As Frank filled up a bag, Tyrell gasped as if he had just chugged down some. Sure enough, when he turned he was holding a bottle with the cap off and staring down at it.

  “50.5 percent proof. Damn, this stuff is delicious.”

  Frank charged over and yanked it out of his hand. He immediately began protesting.

  “Hey, what’s up your ass?” Tyrell said.

  “I need you to stay sober.”

  He scoffed and then grabbed up another bottle and unscrewed it in front of him like an unruly child.

  “Seriously?”

  “Well, I hear a lot about what you need, but what about what I need? Or Gabriel needs? Huh?”

  “Tyrell, just put it down,” Gabriel said.

  “Oh, what so you are on his side now?”

  “This isn’t about sides, dude. He’s right, we need to stay clear-headed if we are going to pull this off.”

  Tyrell pulled both arms out and bowed a little as if mocking Frank. “Well excuse me, the lord almighty has spoken. I forgot that we are the ones putting our neck on the line.”

  Frank shook his head. He really was in no mood for his shit. “You agreed.”

  “That’s right I did, and the way I see it, if I’m liable to get killed going over there then I should at least enjoy myself before I go.” He gazed at all the bottles of alcohol lining the shelves. “I mean, just look at this. Haven’t you ever wanted to do this? You know, break into a place and get absolutely shit-faced?”

  Frank shook his head and strolled off. “Gabriel, you want to speak some sense into him before I use another method.”