Agoraphobia

Day 1 (The Peak)

     By May 29th, the epidemic had clearly accelerated. A 10:00PM news survey indicated the total number of infected in St. Louis had increased from 1% to 22%. Similar reports were coming from cities all over the world.

My parents decided to take action. My father drove to the grocery store to stock up on extra food. My mother went online and started to print out information about water purification and survival techniques. Her fingers dashed across the keyboard like hyperactive spider legs. Mom only paused long enough to fill the bathtubs so we would have water to drink if the plumbing went out.

My sister fell asleep, but I couldn't. My parents were smart people. If THEY were worried, then there was definitely something to worry about. While my father was away and my mother was preoccupied, there was nothing for me to do except dwell on the danger, imagine the worst, and chew nervously on my long, red hair.

At about 2:00AM, my father came home from the grocery store empty-handed and bleeding.

"A riot broke out as I was putting my groceries into the car," winced Dad as Mom applied a large band aid to his head wound. "When I closed the trunk, a crazy woman came out of nowhere and hit me with a pipe! I pushed her away, jumped in my car, and locked the doors. That's when bedlam erupted. People started setting fires and throwing rocks. I barely made it out of the parking lot. 

"On the streets, people were driving like maniacs. I saw no less than five accidents on my way back.

"I was only part-way home when a crazy-eyed cop wielding a crowbar jumped in front of me. I had to slam on my brakes to avoid hitting him. The cop's hands were shaky, and he was yelling at me to get out. When I did, he jumped in and drove off with our car and groceries! I had to walk home with my head bleeding.

"On my way, I saw a raging house fire with a fire truck parked in front of it, but no firefighters. In fact, there was no one else at the house fire. No news van. No curious onlookers. No distraught family standing in their pajamas watching their house burn. No one!

"That's when MY hands started to shake, and I had an overwhelming urge to retreat indoors. The urge morphed into intense anxiety, and it didn't go away until I was inside our loft."

Mom resumed printing information off the Internet. Dad sat down and remoted the television while gingerly touching his stinging head wound. Most of the stations were not working. We turned to the news and learned the vast majority of people had become trapped indoors. Even the news reporter was starting to show signs of agoraphobia.

Without warning, the power went out. And with it went the TV, Internet, and lights. I screamed and woke my sister, causing her to scream. Her screams scared me, and I screamed again in response, causing my sister to scream even louder to—

"Everyone shut the hell up!!" yelled my mother. "The power is out! That's all!" (That and the end of the world.)

Our computer had a battery backup. So we still had light coming from our monitor. Otherwise, the loft was pitch. Mom used her cell phone as a light and helped Dad find his flashlight.

We looked out the window. The city was almost completely dark. Far in the distance, to the right, light was coming from a burning building. Far away on the left, the hospital lights were still working. There was a flashing red air traffic light on top of a tall building. Occasionally, we saw a car's headlights or the flickering of a flashlight. But otherwise, it was pitch. I'd never seen the city so dark before.

We had a radio, but it required an outlet. At about 5:00AM, Dad had the clever idea of plugging the radio into the computer's battery backup. He scrolled through the various settings. NPR was the only one working. From them, we learned the outbreak had accelerated everywhere, and infection was nearly 99%. Reports were fragmentary. Multiple plane crashes were reported. Several cities, including Hong Kong and Detroit, were burning out of control. Most communities were without power and water. I tried to absorb all this distressing information... and failed.

The sun came up.

With so few cars on the streets, the city was eerily quiet.

At a little after 6:00AM, the president released a statement. The radio host read it...

My fellow Americans,

As most of you are now aware, in the last fourteen hours, the agoraphobia epidemic has surged. Nearly 99% of our population is now trapped in their homes or are showing early signs of infection.

Research is still ongoing, but has yet to produce an effective treatment.

At this time, I implore all Americans to remain calm. Any and all uninfected people are hereby ordered to immediately travel to the Pentagon in Washington, where a nationwide rescue effort is being organized.

In conclusion, I ask all Americans, of all faiths, to join me in prayer. May God bless America.

The radio host and his co-host talked about the president's statement. They debated its merits. Noted how brief it was. Then, in mid-sentence, they were silenced. All stations had become static.

We looked out the window for the next half hour, and we couldn't see anyone on the streets. EVERYONE, it seemed, was indoors. No moving cars, no aircraft, no pedestrians.

At about 6:45AM, we saw one car speeding erratically and cutting through the parking lot across the street. It crashed into a post office's front door, and out popped a mail carrier. He clambered out of the wreck and limped inside the post office.

That was the last person we saw on the streets. The agoraphobia outbreak had peaked.

One hour later (May 30th at about 7:45 AM), there was an ominous knock on our door.