Anxiety: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (The Agora Virus Book 2)

by Jack Hunt

  “Shit!”

  Sal banged on the door but there was no answer. They hurried around the back, and tried the rear door but that was locked too.

  “Gloria!” Sal shouted but there was no answer. By this point, Jameson had caught up with them and was looking on while keeping his shotgun trained away from them.

  “Stand back,” Frank said backing up a little. He lunged forward plowing his foot against the door, once, then twice. On the third try it burst open, practically destroying the frame in the process and shattering the glass in the door. Sal went to rush in but Frank grabbed a hold of him and shook his head.

  “Hold on.” Frank turned to Jameson. “You think I can use your gun?”

  He scowled. “The hell you can.”

  “Well do you want to go in first then?”

  “Do I look like a guinea pig?”

  Frank was going to make a sarcastic remark but opted to leave it for a more appropriate time. Before he could say he would go in, Sal was already inside calling out her name.

  “Gloria!”

  He moved further into the five-bedroom cottage until they heard a sound. At first it was barely audible. Muffled even. Sal grabbed the handle to the basement door and edged his way down using the flashlight. He wasn’t even thinking whether there was a light switch, he just wanted to see her. Sal reached the bottom of the basement first. Frank heard him gasp as he disappeared out of view. He felt around for the light cord and switched it on. Once Frank made it down and turned the corner he could see what was going on. Tucked back in the far corner were Gloria and the two kids. There were three mattresses on the ground. None of them were hurt but they looked pretty shaken up. Sal pried a Glock from her hand. Her knuckles had turned white from holding it so tight.

  “It’s okay, I’m here.”

  She burst out crying, and his kids clung to him. Frank stared on, and then his eyes drifted around the room. He noticed that the door to the storage room was open and the shelves were empty. No! He felt his stomach lurch up into his chest, and his pulse began to race as he darted into the room and took in the sight of what remained. There were a couple of cans of food, enough for a few people to live on for maybe a week at the most. No. No! What the hell?

  Frank staggered back outside the room and then turned to Gloria who was now beating on Sal for leaving them alone.

  “What happened?” Frank asked in a demanding tone.

  She wasn’t paying attention so Frank went over and grabbed a hold of her arm hard. He wasn’t thinking straight and Sal pushed him back.

  “Frank!”

  “Where has it all gone?” Frank yelled again.

  By now Jameson had come down the stairs and he was looking on with wide eyes.

  Still shaking, Gloria looked up through tearful eyes. “They took it. All of it.”

  “Who?”

  “Who do you think? The Guthries.”

  The weight of it crushed down on Frank and churned his stomach. He slipped his hand into his jacket and pulled out his anxiety meds.

  “Did they hurt you?” Sal asked, waiting for her to tell him the worst.

  She shook her head. “No, but they could have.” She beat on his chest with her fist. “We’re lucky to be alive because of you.” Then she slapped him across the cheek, and did it a second and a third time until Sal stopped her.

  “Enough!” He held her tightly and she sobbed into his chest. It was to be expected. It was the reason Frank didn’t want Sal to go along with him to Queens. He figured Guthrie wasn’t being neighborly when he came by that day. He was scoping the place out. Trying to gauge what security they had. No doubt he saw them leave and waited until they were sure Gloria wasn’t a threat before they paid another visit.

  Frank went over and scooped up the Glock 22 off the ground and charged towards the stairs. Jameson stepped back as he flew up. He heard Sal say something to Gloria but he wasn’t sure what. He was too lost in his anger. When he reached the first floor he went into the kitchen and checked the cupboards. They were completely bare. He slammed his fist into it causing it to give way and break.

  “Frank.”

  Frank pushed past Sal and headed for the back door.

  “Don’t go over there. You’ll get yourself killed.”

  “If I don’t go, we’ll die anyway.”

  Sal caught up with him and grabbed a hold of his arm. “Listen!”

  They struggled for a second. “Get off, Sal.”

  Sal held him by both arms which was a feat for him, Frank could have brushed him off like a fly on any other day.

  “We’ll get it back. We will. But not now. Now, my wife needs me. My kids need me. And so does yours.”

  In all the rush to judgment, he had completely forgotten about Ella and the others. He’d become so used to living by himself and relying on no one that it had become second nature. And yet, the moment they entered his mind it only added fuel to the fire. It only served to remind him of what they were lacking. Without food, without a means to keep the place clean, they weren’t going to stand a chance.

  “You know how long it took me to gather all those things?” Frank yelled.

  “Frank. Calm down. If anyone should be mad it’s me.”

  Frank balled his fists and fixed his face towards Grindstone Island. “I should have known they would do this. Fuck! They took everything we had.”

  “Listen, go with Jameson, go get the rest of them. I’ll stay here with Gloria and when you get back we’ll talk about what we can do,” Sal said trying his best to calm the situation.

  “I know what I’m going to do.”

  Sal shook his head. “This isn’t a war, Frank.”

  “Sure as hell seems like one.”

  “We just need a little time to think this one through.”

  Frank shrugged off Sal’s hands. “To hell with thinking it through. You are not going to fix this with your psychobabble. Some men only understand one thing.”

  “Oh, and you think you are going to waltz over there and get them to give it back. Think logically, Frank.”

  “I am.”

  He was boiling inside. He wasn’t thinking logically. All he wanted to do was tear Butch’s head off his shoulders.

  “Breathe, Frank. Breathe.”

  “Ah to hell with your stupid breathing exercises.”

  “But they work. Don’t they?”

  “So does a Glock22 against the side of someone’s head.” Frank waved the gun around erratically and paced back and forth. The only light that evening came from a crescent moon above them. The gentle sound of waves lapping up against the shore was usually good at lulling Frank into a state of peace but right now, peace was far from his heart. He wanted to fall back on his military training, and right the wrongs, if only because he felt so responsible for allowing Sal to come with him.

  “As hard as it might seem, there is an upswing.”

  “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

  “They’re alive. Ella is alive, right?” Sal came over to him and patted him on the arm. “We’re back now. We can figure this out. Hell, the fact that we managed to survive a trip into the heart of an infected country must count for something.”

  Frank stood there shaking his head and grinding his teeth. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Sal was right. Once again he was.

  “Alright. Stay here. I’ll go get the others.”

  It felt like a long trip back to the mainland. Jameson was naturally full of questions but Frank wasn’t in the right frame of mind to answer. He was thinking of all the ways he was going to make the Guthries pay. He was wrestling with guilt for what Gloria and her kids had been through. Okay, they didn’t hurt them but it could have ended much worse. What Butch and his family had done might have been wrong, but it was to be expected now. The nation was facing a threat that could wipe them out with as little as a sneeze, a cough, or a touch. It wasn’t hard to imagine that people would look after their own first when faced with hunger and thirst. This was just t
he tip of the iceberg. Things were going to get even worse and decisions would need to be made. So far he hadn’t been put in a situation where he felt like taking someone’s life was necessary but he knew if push came to shove, he would do it.

  When the door opened at Sal’s home, Hayley answered it. She looked past Frank and frowned. “Where’s Sal?”

  Her voice carried as the others came out into the hallway and Frank made his way in. Jameson stayed outside. He had a hard job convincing him to let him use the boat again but Frank promised that he’d make it worth his while. In all honesty, he had no idea how he was going to repay him but desperate situations called for great lies. And he was a master at telling them.

  Ella frowned. “Dad? What’s going on?”

  Frank outlined the situation and then instructed them to gather as much of the food, sanitation products, and anything useful they could find from the house. They were going to make a trip over to his apartment as well before they returned to the island.

  He decided to not tell them yet about what they had lost, only that Sal was staying with Gloria and the kids until they got back. The last thing he wanted was to make his daughter feel unsafe. The only goal of getting her back to the island was so that he’d have peace of mind and know that however long the virus remained active in the country, they would have a place to stay that was free from disease, hunger, thirst, or those who might seek to harm them. What he hadn’t banked on was fighting to get back what was his all along.

  At some point in the process of gathering what they could find, Ella pulled her father aside into a quiet room.

  “What are you not telling me?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t lie, Dad.”

  “Listen, it’s nothing you need to worry about, right now.”

  “Okay.” She placed a hand on her hips and he could tell that she was channeling some of her mother’s attitude. “Then answer this. Why did we stop in Lowville? And don’t tell me it was just for gas.”

  “It wasn’t. I had to get some supplies.”

  “Supplies. Right. How come you didn’t bring any back?”

  Frank’s lip curled up. “They’ve been teaching you well down at that academy. Nothing gets by you, does it, Ella?”

  “Not when it concerns you.”

  He snorted. As much as he didn’t like to keep things from his daughter, the whole incident with Chester was one card he was going to keep close to his chest. It wasn’t just the fact that his daughter had been studying to become a police officer, and Chester was one. It was the fact that he didn’t want his daughter to perceive him as someone who would stoop as low as Chester had, and yet in reality that’s what he had done. Of course, he had never been one for taking his medicine lying down. He also didn’t think that he would be seeing Chester again. The guy might have had a few loose screws but if he was telling the truth about having a retreat in upstate New York, no doubt he would be there now, doing what everyone else was — trying to survive.

  He never did answer her, though she continued to badger him.

  They collected as much as they could carry and hauled ass back to the boat. On the way over to the island, Frank saw spirals of gray smoke rising from Grindstone Island. They even heard the faint sound of music. He envisioned the Guthries tucking into all the food they had taken, and reveling in the stronghold they had created. Who else had they stolen from? How many others were with them? It didn’t matter. They wouldn’t be laughing for long.

  “Yeah, enjoy it while it lasts, because when I’m done with you, you are going to regret ever having stepped foot on my island,” he muttered to himself.

  Four

  That evening the atmosphere in the cottage was solemn. Sal made sure that everyone was settled into the living quarters. Everything Frank envisioned had been turned on its head. It was meant to be just Ella, him, and possibly Kate but that wasn’t happening. As he looked around at the other eight, he had begun to wonder how they were going to survive, more specifically how was he going to feed everyone. It felt like it was his responsibility. His burden. They were in his home and all he had to offer was a few cans of beans. What they had taken from Sal’s house and his place in Clayton was next to nothing compared to what he’d originally gathered. It would have been tight but at least they could have been able to last a couple of months if they rationed out food and kept it to a bare minimum.

  Frank stood in the storage area looking at the empty shelves. They hadn’t even left any of his sanitizer. Beyond the one he had in his pocket, and a couple around the house, they had cleaned him out and practically forced him to go cold turkey. He felt like a drug addict without his stash, like an alcoholic without a drop of alcohol left in the house. At least they hadn’t found his anxiety medication. On three occasions, he had told his doctor that he’d lost his tablets. Once he told him that an open bottle had fallen into the toilet. All of which meant he was able to get a repeat prescription and stock up on more than was required. He tossed back two tablets and washed them down with a mouthful of water.

  The very sound of everyone upstairs made his skin crawl. Sal was right, he had made improvements and with everything that had happened, he was thinking less about his need to repeat his rituals but it wasn’t gone entirely. He didn’t think it would ever go away entirely. It was a deep-rooted fear and while Sal had helped him to cut the tree back to its roots, the roots spread deep and wide.

  “How we doing?” Sal casually leaned against the frame of the door as Frank jotted down on a pad of paper what cans of food the Guthries had left for Gloria and the kids.

  “Crazy to think they took everything but left her just enough to get by for a week.”

  “Maybe he does have a heart,” Sal said.

  Frank scoffed. “Did you find out from Gloria what they said to her?”

  He shook his head. “It’s been hard to get a word out of her. She’s exhausted. Since they showed up, she’s been holed up in the basement with the kids, living on only three or four hours sleep a night.” He stepped inside and wiped his finger across the shelves checking for dust. “She’s sleeping for now.”

  “And the kids?”

  “Shook up but you know how they are. They bounce back pretty quick.”

  Frank nodded, and Sal stared at the list. “Why are you writing them down?”

  “Well I figure we have about two days’ worth of food here. Fortunately, they didn’t take the seeds that I had stashed inside a drawer upstairs. But we are going to need food soon.”

  “What are you going do, Frank?”

  “What am I going to do?” He eyed him with a look of confusion. “You mean, what are we going to do? We are all in the same shit hole and it’s not getting any brighter down here.”

  “We are low on guns, ammo, and you can’t expect them upstairs to risk their lives.”

  “You know, under any other conditions I wouldn’t ask anyone to do anything but as long as everyone is on this island, they are going to pull their weight. It might not mean firing a weapon, raiding Guthrie’s place, or breaking into a store but everyone will be responsible for something. The only way we are going to survive this is by working together.”

  Frank reached down by a workbench and pulled out a cardboard tube. He popped the plastic lid off the end and emptied out onto the desk a large roll of paper.

  “What’s that?”

  He answered by showing him. He rolled it out across the top of the desk and laid on top several tins in the corners. It was a map of the islands. It was old and looked outdated as there were some islands listed that no longer existed and a couple that were joined together but had since been divided by the waters.

  “We are going to pay Butch a little visit tomorrow evening.”

  “Frank. This is not some military operation.”

  Frank stared at him. “Okay, let’s play it your way for a second.” Frank leaned back against the workbench, amused at the thought of whatever suggestion Sal was going to come up with.r />
  “So? Come on, I’m all ears. This is your chance to have a say.”

  “I think we should all have a say.”

  Frank snorted. “Please. You think those kids upstairs are going to have any idea how to approach this? They barely know how to wipe behind their ears.”

  “Coming from the man who cowered beneath a table, I find that a little insulting.”

  “Hey! I had a good reason.”

  “Fear is fear, Frank, and so is courage,” he said before pausing. “And besides, not all of them are nineteen like Ella. Zach is twenty.”

  “Oh really? That makes it all better. One guy who is no longer a teen. Who needs an army when we’ve got Zach? The kid shot someone and he’s still reeling from it. Do you think he’s going to pick up a weapon again? We have a better chance of your daughter picking up a gun than him.”

  “You’re not serious, are you? I mean about my daughter.”

  “Oh god, Sal, get a sense of humor.”

  Sal hopped up onto the table to take a load off his feet. “So are you suggesting we all just go in there and take it back by force?”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  Sal remained quiet for a few seconds.

  “They are not going to hand it over,” Frank said.

  “No… Maybe they won’t but it also doesn’t mean we have to take it back from them.”

  Frank screwed his face up and slapped his hands against the workbench. “If not them, who? You want us to steal from another island the way they stole from us? Is that it?”

  “How many of these islands are inhabited all the year around?” Sal asked.

  “Not many but let’s face it, how many boats were in the harbor? Zero. Which means people are on these islands.”

  “Not all of them. What I’m saying is the best course of action here might be to just avoid the Guthries. You know, go check out some of the other islands.”