Phobia: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller

by Jack Hunt

  “Anyway, you thinking of coming up?”

  “You ask me that every year and…”

  “I know, you tell me you can’t. Don’t say I don’t try.” He paused and there was silence for a moment as if both of them were contemplating what to say next.

  “Did I tell you, I’m not taking as many meds?”

  “That’s good, Frank.”

  He caught an edge to her voice that it really didn’t matter to her anymore.

  “Yeah, Sal says I’m making good progress.”

  “Do you think you are?”

  He breathed in deeply. “Would it make any difference?”

  There was quiet on the other end of the line.

  “Come on, Frank, we’ve been over this enough times.”

  “Right.”

  There was quiet again. “Well, anyway, are you just checking in on me?”

  “Actually I wanted to give you the heads-up. Have you seen the news?”

  “Can’t say I have.”

  Frank wasn’t in the habit of glossing over news articles or tuning into any of the doom and gloom stations. It only increased his anxiety and well, he had enough already to deal with. While Kate didn’t sound panicked, he could tell that something was up by the edge in her voice. Without any prompting, he went over to the remote on the coffee table, switched the TV on and surfed through a few channels until he settled on national news.

  “Am I meant to be seeing something?”

  There was nothing being discussed on the news. In the past with the outbreaks of Ebola and Zika it didn’t take long before the airwaves were filled with talk about the efforts being taken to contain them. Additionally, hospitals and doctors’ offices had clamped down on visitors who had been abroad and were showing flu-like symptoms.

  “Just keep watching. They’ll have an update soon.”

  “What’s going on, Kate?”

  She breathed a heavy sigh. “There’s been an outbreak of flu in pockets of Atlanta, as well as North Carolina and Manhattan. There have been a few reported deaths but so far it appears to have been contained. We currently have patient zero here for testing but so far it doesn’t look good.”

  “Are you trying to send my blood pressure through the roof?”

  “Would I joke about this with you?”

  She had a point. While they were married she never discussed her work as it only created more tension in the home. It didn’t matter that there wasn’t an outbreak, the very mention of working with diseases triggered arguments.

  “We are contact tracing and watching for signs of illness over the next twenty-one days.”

  “How many so far?”

  “Thirty-two, at least that I know about. It looks as though it may have made its way into the U.S. from China. Patient zero, along with other passengers changed to a connecting flight in New York.”

  “And you are telling me, because?”

  “Some of them didn’t go on to another city. They exited and are somewhere in Manhattan.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Frank.”

  “Ella is there.”

  “Look, I’m telling you this to keep you in the loop, and in the event that this gets worse, she’s going to need a place to get to and you are the closest. I would feel better if she was with you.”

  “Have you phoned her yet?”

  “I can’t seem to get through. My messages are going to voicemail and she’s not answering texts. But it’s been that way for the past week.”

  “She texted me this morning.”

  “Perhaps she’ll respond to you.”

  Frank frowned. “Is there something else I should know, Kate?”

  He heard her sigh. “I’m seeing someone, Frank. Ella knows and well, she hasn’t taken it well.”

  “She never told me anything.”

  “Well, now you know.”

  He hesitated before he replied. “Alright. Leave it with me. I’ll try and get hold of her.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Well, what else do you want me to do?” Frank asked.

  “You don’t have anything to say about what I just said?”

  “What do you expect me to say? Congratulations? When is the wedding day?”

  “Oh screw you, Frank. I knew you’d act like this.”

  He stifled a laugh. “Like what?”

  “Like an asshole.”

  “You want me to be happy for you? I’m happy for you. But don’t expect her to be the same. Look, I get it. It’s been two years since you left. You are ready to move on.”

  “Ready to move on? I was ready to move on two years before I left you.”

  “Oh yeah? Then why didn’t you start seeing someone until recently? Huh?”

  “Why do you think it’s recent?”

  “So you’ve been seeing him for a long time?”

  There was no response on the other end of the line. “Look, I’m not getting into this now. I have a lot to get done. I just wanted to give you the heads-up. This is spreading fast.”

  “You said it was contained.”

  “I meant that we are doing our best to locate those from the flight and contain this. At the speed this is killing people, this could send people into a panic once the media catches wind of it. That’s why I think you should stock up now. Get whatever supplies you need to get you through the next month or two. If you can get hold of Ella, tell her to drive up to where you are.”

  “And if she can’t get here?”

  “Well…”

  “Right, because I wouldn’t go out and get her.”

  “I didn’t ask you to.”

  “But that’s what you were implying.”

  “Just keep trying. I don’t have enough time right now. We are already being pushed to the limit of what we can do. The World Health Organization is preparing to release an alert. Once that goes out, who knows what will happen. I know for sure that people are going to be on edge. If this is what I think it is, it could be the worst pandemic since the Spanish influenza.”

  “And what about you?”

  “I’ll be fine. Just deal with Ella, please. I’ve got to go now.”

  “Kate.”

  “Yeah?”

  “If I hadn’t… well…”

  “Frank, I have to go. Sorry, I will phone later when I’ve got an update.”

  The line went dead and Frank stared out the bay window. A light breeze blew against the trees on the 1.3 acres of island that contained a three-story Victorian cottage, a spacious lawn, sidewalk, shrubs, twenty-two mature trees surrounded by rocks and a boathouse with a dock, one hundred and fifty feet long.

  This was it: his worst fears realized, a potential pandemic that could wipe out humanity. And to top it all off, he was going to be trapped on an island with Sal, his annoying psychologist.

  TWO

  She’s never going to believe me. That was the first thing that popped into his mind at the thought of contacting Ella. She was so used to him acting like a deranged father that she had pretty much written off his warnings as nothing more than his OCD. Where other fathers would be concerned about how late their child stayed out, or what kind of friends they hung out with, he’d always been bothered by cross-contamination. Why on earth would Kate leave this in my hands? He paced the room, snatched up a bottle of Purell hand sanitizer and squirted a healthy dose into his palms.

  What if this was it? The end of the world as we know it.

  It seemed absurd and yet he had been thinking about it ever since he was a kid. He didn’t need back-to-back news alerts or some release by the WHO to get him panicked. If anyone sneezed in his general vicinity, he envisioned the worst.

  Do I have enough supplies? He dashed into the kitchen and began rooting through the cupboards. Then he went down into the basement and looked over the stock of goods in storage. He was prepared for disease but not for starving. Shit! He was going to have to go out and stock up on food. There would be two mouths to feed if Ella made it here, a
nd three if that asshole Sal decided to stay.

  He went up and down the shelves, glancing at everything quickly and hyperventilating. He had plenty of hand sanitizer, liquid bleach, exam gloves, N95 masks, antibacterial soap, rolls of toilet paper, water filtration and purification tablets. He also had plenty of HEPA filters for house air filtration. He moved some of the items around to see if he still had the disposable coveralls, safety goggles and face shields. Okay, good. Now first things first. A pad of paper and pencil. He shot into his office and returned with the items in hand.

  Water. He scribbled it down. I’m going to need a lot of water to keep the place clean. No doubt, they will turn that off and the stores will sell out. He remembered the Northeast blackout in 2003 and how neighbors were rushing around like chickens with heads lopped off trying to buy up water. Within a matter of hours, bottles of water were gone from the shelves. Okay, what else?

  Food, I’m going to need food for at least three months, bare minimum, and six to be on the safe side. He jotted that down. Quickly he started making a list as things came to his mind. Paper towels, laundry soap, dish soap, water collection container and carrying containers, duct tape just in case they had to set up an isolation room.

  Next he moved on to practical items. The power grid would still be operational for a while. There was a chance that if things got out of control, schools and workplaces would close down, grocery stores would be emptied, fuel deliveries would stop and hospitals would start turning people away.

  He was in the process of writing down flashlights, multi-tools, a pocketknife and another first-aid kit when the lead in his pencil snapped. Dammit! He tossed it across the room, cleaned his hands again and then went and located a pen.

  Okay, calm down. Breathe. He willed his heartbeat to stop smashing against his chest as he continued to make a list: hiking backpack, sewing kit, sleeping bags, compass, maps, lighter, fire steel, waterproof matches, axe, flares, signal mirror, ham radio, whistle, tarp. The list just kept getting bigger and bigger. He knew at this rate he would need to buy another house just to store all this crap. He berated himself for not thinking about this. Frank had gone to great lengths to ensure that he had the essentials for staying as germ-free as he could but he hadn’t thought about the grid going down, or stores being cleaned out. It could happen. It would happen, if riots broke out.

  He knew this was already bad otherwise Kate wouldn’t have phoned. There was no way they could have contained this unless they had known ahead of time and stopped all the passengers from getting off the plane. How long had patient zero been out there before they pulled him in? He’d forgot to ask Kate that. He jotted another note down, and then scratched it out. Dumb question. It didn’t matter now. All that mattered was ensuring the safety of his family.

  What about a gun? He ran a hand over his troubled face. He had a hunting rifle and a Glock but that was it. Hell, the thing had been in the gun locker for the past three years. Should I buy another handgun? I wonder if I can get my hands on a machine gun? Oh, Frank, shut the hell up, this isn’t a war.

  But maybe that’s what it would turn into.

  If people became desperate, there was no telling what lengths they would go to in order to survive. Sure, he was on an island and the majority of people wouldn’t have boats but some still might think of escaping to an island. What if they picked his? He had no fencing with barbed wire. There was no steel door to keep them out. It was an ordinary house. He didn’t have a bunker below it, or some retreat already stocked up. This was it. This was his retreat and he was in desperate need of supplies. If he was going to ride this out, he had to make sure he was ready for the unexpected. He would fortify the island, make it his own little country and defend it at all costs.

  How long did he have? Twenty-four hours? There was nothing on the news yet, at least from what he had seen but things could change fast. Society practically lived with their nose inside a phone. Realistically, how long would it take before someone saw a post on Facebook, or read a tweet, or saw a video put out by the World Health Organization? What then? Initially, he figured there wouldn’t be mass hysteria. No, people thought too highly of the government to think that they would let something get out of control. No, they would carry on with their lives. Sure, some of the smart ones would go out and stock up, hell, the really smart ones would have already done it. But still, time was ticking and he needed to act fast.

  Ella. How was she going to take this? Kate’s texts would have alerted her to the issue. Perhaps she was already on her way. Frank pulled his phone out and shot off a quick message. He’d always found it was easier to text than to phone. If she was in class, she wouldn’t answer immediately but she would feel it vibrating and would get back to him the very second she was out.

  Contact me. ASAP. It’s important. Dad.

  He stared at the message before sending it and began overanalyzing it. Was it clear? Did it sound urgent? Maybe he should have added why it was important. Frank groaned. He deleted what he had tapped in and replaced it with: Contact me. Nothing to get too worried about, just a bit of a pandemic outbreak. Dad.

  No, stupid. He tried again.

  Contact me. Immediately. Life or death. Dad.

  He shook his head and realized he was doing it again. His obsessive behavior was spilling over into other areas of his life. He had more chance of her responding to a text about aliens taking over the planet than she would to one about a pandemic. Hell, she had spent her entire childhood thinking there was a pandemic.

  In the end, he just sent her a text telling her to contact him immediately. She was close to four hundred miles away. Six hours of driving under good conditions. If she left now, she could be in Clayton by nightfall. If he had to collect her, he was looking at the entire journey taking at least twelve to fourteen hours with pit stops. It just made sense to have her drive up to him. He didn’t like it but it made sense.

  Besides, the very thought of driving to collect her sent his pulse into overdrive. It would be like entering the eye of a storm. If Manhattan was infected, he could bump into anyone that was disease-ridden, and what if he got stuck? It would be a hellish nightmare.

  As he went to go check on the oil furnace and make sure everything was working, he thought about how he might have to heat the place. He’d never had to consider it before as he’d always been there in the summer. Over the winter months the cottage was closed up.

  The furnace used electric to power the forced-air heating and an air conditioner. There was a wood stove, so he could use that but he would need to stock up. There were enough trees on the island to last him a good while but it would be easier to purchase firewood in bulk and lug it over on the boat. Hacking down Mother Nature would be a last resort. Axe, the word popped into his head. Did I jot that down? He went back over the list. Yep, it was there.

  He returned to the living room. The news was still playing. He clicked through a few more channels and finally landed on one that had a headline that read: Deadly Flu Outbreak in the USA?

  HAS A NEW AND DEADLY VIRUS, even more deadly than Ebola, made its way into the United States? Well, it’s spreading rapidly in China and the World Health Organization is concerned that it’s made its way here. People have questions and concerns that Director Trish Kenwood of the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta is trying to answer after a series of patients in the Atlanta region have exhibited symptoms that haven’t responded well to medication.

  THE NEWS ANCHOR continued to rattle on, rehashing the danger that faced Sierra Leone back in 2014 when a state of emergency was declared and the government instigated a cordon sanitaire to contain the spread of the virus. Could they do that here?

  Frank went over to the sink and poured himself a tall glass of water. He gulped it down fast and tried to calm his nerves. He was about to pour another when a hard knock at the door startled him and he dropped the glass causing it to smash.

  “Damn it.”

  As he reached to pick up a piece he cut hi
mself. He winced as droplets of blood fell to the floor. Shit! Another knock and he yelled out in frustration. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.” Flustered, he opened a cupboard, yanked out a first-aid kit and began rooting through it for a box of Band-Aids. He was going to look for a broom to clean up when he spotted Sal at the door.

  “Would you just come in, Sal?”

  The storm door creaked open and he heard him step inside. “How we doing, Frank? Pleased to see that you haven’t locked yourself in the office.”

  “Very funny.”

  As he came into the kitchen his eyes widened at the sight of blood dripping from Frank’s hand.

  “What did you do?”

  “What does it look like?”

  Sal came around and looked at the shattered glass on the floor. Right then the phone rang. “I’ll get it,” Sal said reaching for Frank’s cell while he covered the small cut. It wasn’t wide, but it was a nasty gash.

  “Oh hey, Ella, yeah, your dad is a little tied up right now.”

  Sal glanced over with a look of concern on his face.

  “Tell her to hold on the line. I will be with her in a sec.”

  “Yeah, he can call you back.”

  “No!” Frank yelled so loudly he gave Sal a fright. “I mean, I need to talk to her now.”

  He moved around the broken glass. Sal said he would clean it up while Frank took the phone from him.

  “Everything okay, Dad?”

  “Yeah. I mean. No. Um, I just broke a glass and cut myself.”

  “Was that why you sent a text?”

  “No, no. Um. Look…”

  Sal glanced over and Frank decided to head outside so he could be out of earshot. The last thing he needed was Sal giving him a speech about how he was taking things too seriously. As much as he appreciated having Sal swing by each week, he couldn’t help feel like a kid around him. He was a grown man, for Christ’s sake. Frank slid the patio door open and stepped out. Outside, water lapped against the shore, and a warm breeze made him feel at ease for a minute. He walked a short distance away from the cottage and sat on a bench that had a plaque on it. He’d had it installed when his parents passed away in memory of them.