by Jonas Sunico
The zombies are not running anymore and it’s getting dark. I need to find a place fast. This wound is not helping me either. Getting out from under the bus was easy but I made one crucial mistake.
I tripped and banged myself on one of the buses. So much for “stealth.”
All the zombies looked in my direction and went crazy in an instant. Their insanity quickly spread to the other buses. The buses started shaking heavily and were on the verge of tipping. But that was not the worst of my problems. The noise they were making was so loud it was sure to attract the attention of other zombies nearby.
Takbo, Joe, takbo! I said to myself.
Let the running commence once again. This 2x2 is useless in times like this. I wonder if I’ll get the chance to use it. But enough of that, I need another hiding place. Stealth is my friend now. I’ll hide under another bus if I have to but I can’t do it know.
I can already hear the zombies and I can also here some of the buses tipping over. It’s gonna be a mess pretty soon. This time I can’t lingon anymore. I’ll make it to my paroroonan without looking back.
There: a tent! A big tent. A tent beneath an overpass! It has the words “Department of Heath” written all over it. Judging by how clean it is, there may be few if any zombies. Not only that, that place is sure to be filled with medical supplies. I could attract zombies and they could surround the tent easily but it’s my only choice.
There were a few zombies along the way but this time I smashed their brains in. I think I hit hard enough with one hand to kill them. The first zombie I killed was one of the Jeje’s from before. Sadly he didn’t have a gun with him. It felt damn good killing him though. I smashed his knees first and he went down in an instant. I struck his head many times. His eyes turned to goop and his brains turned into jam. As a token of my kill, I took this big ass necklace that he was wearing. It was silver and it was a marijuana plant. Looks cool, but I won’t wear it. That was my best kill ever and this necklace is my only reminder of it. I hope I come across the other jeje’s.
I make it to the tent. My kill count is exactly 9 zombies. And just as expected, the place is zombie-free. I instantly drop my trusty Lucky Woody (that’s right, I named my weapon) and search for bandages and rubbing alcohol. At the far end is the supply cabinet and inside, everything I need. Finally! A lucky break for Joe.
As usual, when things go great, they go bad again in an instant. That’s my life. I’ve always been the target of bad luck. I get good grades one day; I get my ass kicked the next. I get a new toy one day; I break the toy the next. Yup. Bad luck Joe. That’s me.
A cabinet starts shaking. Something is about to come out of there and I know it. My Lucky Woody is at the entrance. How stupid could I have been to drop it there? I got too careless and I’m going to pay for it. I’m completely defenseless before what’s going to come out of that cabinet. I wonder what that thing could be? I hope that it’s one of those jeje’s. I could really beat one of those motherf*ckers up. They owe me big time.
After a few seconds of shaking and anticipation the cabinet opens.
3
There it was. Tongue dangling, excessive drooling, teeth showing. What scared me the most was the look of hunger in its eyes. Just by looking at it I can say that I am in deep trouble. This thing looked like it hasn’t eaten in days and it’s ready to eat nine Joe delos Santoses. This thing was ready to maul me any second and I could’ve been saved if I just didn’t drop my weapon in excitement.
IT’s a HE. HE is a DOG. Aso in Filipino. This little Aso (read it like “asshole” with a lot of slang) scared the shit out of me. His tail starts to wag. At least it’s a sign that he’s happy to see me… Maybe it’s a sign that he’s excited to eat me.
He is a majestic Siberian Husky. Black luscious coat with a white accent, he is majestic indeed… That is if you ignore the blood stains on his fur. His eyes are weird though, one is black while the other is pure red. Something weird about that but somehow I think that this little fella right here is not infected, because if he were infected, I’d be dead by now.
Funny how there are only a few ways to see if someone is infected or not. The sombis have pale skin which is almost near white; their gums are almost a shade of yellow and their eyes are mostly white. Like they have cataracts or something. But now that I think about it, some sombis have red eyes. I wonder what makes those eyes different. They act the same. The ones with the red eyes aren’t more fierce or aggressive.
As happy as I am to see another living thing (a living thing that doesn’t try to kill me), I can’t let this guy tag along. I’ve already thought of three reasons why I’m not letting him join me and since I’m trying to learn Filipino, I might as well do this in the best Filipino I can manage:
1. Mukhang siya matakaw at matigas pakainin (He looks greedy and hard to feed).
2. Mukhang bobo at mahirap na discipline (Looks stupid and hard to discipline).
3. Balot sa dugo (Covered in blood).
I don’t know if my Filipino sounds like an English to Filipino translation from Google Translate but it’s okay. Baby steps lead to grown-up leaps.
I turn my back to him as if he were not there in the first place. I can’t have someone drag me down no matter how cute or how irresistibly stupid and helpless that someone is. I’m not selfish; I just care about myself too much.
But as I treated my wounds, I heard this dog’s paws closing in on me slowly. It was a game of Red Light, Green Light. I would turn around and each time I did, he got closer and closer. What annoys me most is that look on his face. The way he twists his head in confusion like most dogs do and the sound he makes which is similar to Scooby’s. It goes like “Aaaurgh?”
It wasn’t long before he was only a couple of steps away from me. Still, I continued to ignore his advances.
Since he was this close to me I thought he’d stop inching in. So I decided to stitch up my bullet wound. I learned this skill from my first crush. Her name was Amanda. We were playing outside when I fell down hard. I scraped my knee; it wasn’t a deep wound. It was a GASH. But Amanda did her best to aid me. She rushed to her home to grab some “boo-boo” kit. I expected band aids and rubbing alcohol but no. Hell no.
“Halika, I’ll make tahi your sugat na! I love playing doctor kasi e.”
I forgot to mention that she was a Fil-Am. That explains the bond between us. Anyway, so this girl came out saying some things in Filipino which I did not understand but I knew damn well that I was going to be in a lot of pain.
“Upo ka dali! I’ll make tahi na, hihi. Buti di ka marunong magtagalog, ayan nauuto kita. Ang tanga tanga tanga ng pasyente ko!”
I just nodded as she spoke in Filipino. And there it was, a very unbearable sensation that I felt in my entire body. Amanda stitched a small wound and made it worse.
Needless to say, I shouted my lungs out. But thanks to that painful memory I learned the basics of stitching up wounds.
“Pointy thing goes in, pointy thing goes out, pointy thing goes in, pointy thing goes out…” I sang.
I was surprisingly tolerant of the pain, maybe because I was too concentrated on singing. After a couple of stitches the pain became more painful. But still I was concentrated on patching myself up. I completely forgot about the dog behind me. I turned around and he wasn’t there anymore. I wondered where he was but I wondered not for long. He lay beside me; from the look on his face and the wag on his tail I could see that he was actually happy.
“How long have you been here?” I asked the dog but he didn’t reply.
I thought that this dog could be hungry judging from the growling I heard in his stomach so, after stitching up my wound, I gave him one of my canned food. He chowed this down in a matter of seconds. So I gave him another can.
And another.
And another.
And 5 cans later, he looked full.
Just as I thought, this thing is going to drain my supplies. But I don’t intend on bringing him along. I’ll leave h
im first thing in the morning. Time to get some shut-eye.
“Kayo daw ang sasagip sa mundo diba? Pwes, ako ang sisira rito. Sinira niyo ang plano ko dati e. Okay na lahat. Kaso dumating pa kayo. Pagsisisihan mo at di mo pa ’ko pinatay noon.”
“Joe ano na? Yari tayo saan tayo!”
“Di ko alam, kumalma ka. Akong bahala saten. Di ko hahayaang masaktan kayo ng panot na yan.”
I woke up to a kiss from the dog. Not a smack, a torrid kiss. And it was awful. Kadiri shit. But what was that dream? I saw no faces; I only heard voices. One of which sounded like me and I spoke in straight Filipino. It’s a shame that I can’t translate the words said earlier. I forgot them in an instant. Maybe it was a vision; maybe it’s something important.
As I lay the dog looked at me like he did yesterday. It was getting annoying. Luckily I’ll leave soon. I’m not letting him tail me. The only thing this dog can do is entertain me—which I don’t need. I need an ally, not a clown.
I left him another can of food, grabbed my stuff and left the tent without saying a word. After a few steps I looked back. There he was again following me. I told him to stay and he bowed down. Then I proceeded to walk. And again he followed but this time I didn’t tell him to go away.
“Alis!” I shouted.
Maybe he understood Filipino because after my shouting that word, the dog looked down and got depressed all of a sudden. It’s a sad sight but I’ll have to ignore it. I hope that this isn’t an act that he’s putting up. I heard somewhere that Huskies are smart. I hope that he doesn’t follow me the moment I turn around. I’ll lose my patience if he does that.
I walk away from the tent. I didn’t bother going to MOA. It might be more zombie-infested. I stealthily walk the highways again. This time I walk along Roxas Boulevard. The zombies from yesterday are gone. There are a few in sight but not as much as yesterday. They’re not as aggressive either.
This time he didn’t follow me. I was a few blocks away now but still the DOH tent was visible. The dog never left the spot where he stopped. It looked kinda sad actually. I should really avoid the habit of looking back; it gets me in trouble.
When I looked forward, a zombie was already in front of me. I was blindsided and this was no regular sized zombie. It was huge and I didn’t have time to smash its head in with my weapon. It took me down and a struggle ensued. I was avoiding his bites and they were damn close. I wish I could shout for tulong but I couldn’t. No one was there to aid me and, to make it worse, I might attract more zombies.
He was heavy and he smelled sweaty and dead. He was the ugliest zombie I’ve seen… Well not really, I’ve come to notice that things that try to kill you instantly become the ugliest thing you’ve seen. Like the jeje’s earlier. Boy were they ugly, but now this zombie on top of me is the ugliest of them all.
“Antanga tanga ko. Bakit ba antanga tanga ko!” I said… Wait, where did those words come from? What kind of adrenaline rush is this?
4
“You look stupid y’know? Stop staring at me, you stupid dog.”
I’m lucky dogs don’t understand anything that I say. But I owe everything to this dog. I was only a few more inches from Zombie Mouth when he came and tackled my attacker. Not only did he attack it; he mauled it. It’s as if this dog took revenge on the zombie. It showed gratitude for all those cans of food that I gave him.
“Salamat.”
He wagged his tail when I said that to him. Maybe he does understand Filipino. I think I’ll keep him. He may be a food hog but I could use his killing skills. I wondered what name would be appropriate for this Siberian Husky. Fang? Spike? Perhaps… Chomp?
Then it hit me: “Askal”.
It’s derived from the famous Philippine soccer team, the Azkals. It’s perfect for him.
“How about it? ‘Askal’ sound good to you?” He barked and wagged his tail in approval. The universal dog language for “Yey yey yey yey yey yey yey yey yey yey yey.”
There’s something weird going on with me. Just moments when the zombie attack started, I thought of Filipino words I’ve never encountered in my dictionary. It was like I spoke as if I were a pure and natural Filipino. And that dream I had? That was weirder. I’m starting to think that this adventure of mine will lead to something more than anything I could’ve thought of.
Sinong may akala na ang pagiging pulubi ko pa ang sasagip sa buhay ko sa ganitong estado ng mundo? Sinong may akala na ang ugaling “skwater” ko pa ang makakatulong sa survival ko sa Pilipinas na nilalapa na ng mga sombi?
Ako si Carla Grasya. Isang dalagitang “magandaw” (maganda DAW). Sa katunayan e madaming tao na ang nagtangkang bayaran ako para sa katawan ko.
Utot nila.
Kahit na gutom na gutom na ’ko may dangal pa rin ako. May pangarap pa rin akong turingin na prinsesa, hindi laruan na pwedeng gamitin basta huhulugan ng barya. Kung gusto nila ’ko, pwes ready dapat silang ligawan ang isang pulubing gaya ko.
Sabi ng iba nakakaakit daw mata ko kaya maraming manyak na nagbabalak makatikim. Parang “jelly ace” daw sa laki; tas para raw bituin kung kumislap. Mayroon pang malaki sakin na gustong gusto ng mga lalaki.
Ang busilak kong puso na handang tumulong sa lahat…
At ang boobs ko. Jusko gusto nila ang boobs ko. Proud man ako sa pares ng melon na meron ako, minsan nakakainis na takaw atensyon sila.
Nandun ako sa Quiapo nung mangyare ang nangyare. Doon sa may malaking TV dun. Napanood kong malapa ni Kia Guaino at Zelle Tiangco ang idolo kong si Mic Enriquez. Kawawa si Mic.
Minuto lang ang lumipas nang may marinig akong sigawan sa kabilang kanto. Pagkatingin ko, nagtatakbuhan na ang mga tao. Grabe ang biglang pagharurot ng mga jeep. Wala nang pake ang mga driver kung may masagasaan man sila. Basta ang importante e makatakas sila dun sa mga sombi. Kaso “wa epek.” Di naman kase nasasara ang mga pinto at bintana ng jeep. Nakakapasok lang ang mga sombi at nilalapa nila ang lahat ng nasa loob.
E ako? Pano ’ko nabuhay? Simple lang. Tumakbo ako sa pinakamalapit na Jollibee at nagtago ako sa palikuran nila. Siyempre bago magtago nagbulsa muna ko ng ilang pirasong chicken, kanin at fries. Wala na kong panahon para makakuha ng inumin kaya naisipan kong pagtiyagaan na lang ang tubig gripo.
Ilang araw din ako nanatili dun. Sampung araw ata. Siyempre nabulok at nasira yung mga pagkain ko pero nasa Jolibee naman ako e. Pwede akong lumabas para magrestock. Naisip ko na swerte na ’ko sa lagay na ’to. E baka yung ibang tao nga e nakulong sa banyo na de lata at tubig inidoro lang ang pagkain at inumin.
It was chaotic. Sa ganitong paraan lang din pala gugunaw ang mundo.
Napag-isip-isip ko na oras na para umalis dito. Kahit na wala naman akong pupuntahan, ok nang maligaw kesa maburo at mamatay sa pagkabagot sa banyong ito. E san naman ako pupunta?
Sirang-sira ang dating madumi at napakasiksikang Quiapo. Wala na yung mga barker na adik ata sa pagsigaw sa tenga ng mga tao. Wala na rin yung mga dyip na kala mo may noise barrage lagi kung makabusina. At higit sa lahat… Wala na ang hepa-lane. Wala na ang isaw ni Kuya Pol. Ang Kwek Kwek ni Manang Ysay. Ang 3-day-3-times-reheated hotdog ni Tatang James. Wala na yung mga bagay na nagsisilbing pagkaen ko araw araw. Silang mga nag-aaruga sakin na isang batang lansangan. Sana nabuhay sila. Pero alam ko sa loob loob ko na patay na sila. Sana hindi sila naging sombi. Ngayong wala na ang mga nagsilbing magulang at kutsara’t tinidor ko…
Ano na?
Alam ko na. Nasa Quiapo ako diba? Sigurado akong maraming masasamang loob ang nabuhay. Ako nga kinaya kong makatakas sa mga sombi na yun, pano pa kaya yung mga dalubhasa sa buhay sanggano? Mabibilis tumakbo ang mga tao sa Quiapo... Nahasa kasi sa pagtakas pag may naiisnatch sa kanila. Mga asal kalye rin ’tong mga ’to at mga marunong makipag-away. Quiapo is the true survivor’s paradise.
Oo baka mga mapahamak ako sa mga taong makakasalamuha ko rito kase alam naman ng lahat na maraming gago sa Quiapo. Pero mas pipiliin ko na atang mabastos ng isang manyak na lasinggero o kaya naman e feeling hot na jejemon.
Siguro mas okey na magpunta muna ’ko sa lugar kun
g san talamak ang krimen. Dun makakahanap ako ng kasama panigurado. Kahit na gago pa makasalamuha ko dun, ok na rin. Swerte na lang siguro kung pari ang makita ko dun.
Sa Quiapo Church.
Now where am I off to?
Askal looks like he’s up and ready to go anywhere I’m going. After that bath I gave him, he looks a lot better. I mean with all the blood out from his fur, he really looks like the Siberian Husky that he is. I like Huskies. They are the closest thing I could have to a wolf. But what on earth is a Husky doing in a country that’s hot as me (just a little encouragement)? Askal doesn’t look like he’s affected by the weather though. In fact, he’s taking it more lightly than I am. I’m sweating like onions in a pan. I wish I could take this hoodie off but I’m really comfortable with jackets… Hugs…
I think I’ll gather supplies now. Askal really depleted my food supply. Matakaw. I really can’t blame him though. This zombie apocalypse really takes its toll on you. I can see a grocery store not far from here but it’s not wise to go there. Might be filled with zombies. Luckily there’s a 7-11 nearby. I’ll go there, that place can’t hold as many zombies as a grocery store can so I’ll have better chances there. After resupplying, I think I’ll head to this place called Quiapo Church. There are signs here in Roxas Boulevard that point the way to Quiapo.
My father once told me about this place. He told me to stay away from it. He said that it was rampant with pickpockets and thieves. In short, bad people. Why would I go there then? Simple, that place is rampant with criminals. Criminals that are possibly good in fending for themselves. If there’s one place that’s sure to have survivors, it’d be a place where people survive for a living.
“Mga taong kapit sa patalim,” I said softly. I think I’m getting used to the sometimes weird and sometimes comprehensive Filipino words. Dad didn’t tell me anything about myself. Maybe I have deep Filipino heritage and my ancestors are helping me or something.