THE people in San Laurel Hospital’s children’s ward were astonished when they heard a groan from one of the hospital beds. Their eyes darted at one of the patients—a toddler who just woke up.

“Oh, no . . .” one of them whispered.

A nurse rushed to the child. She was already at the side of her bed when she suddenly wailed.

A wave of panic crashed the chests of everyone. Some started looking for places to hide, others picked up items they thought they could use as weapons for their own protection, and a few were already planning to escape through the window even if survival through that was impossible.

The father and daughter who were trapped in the room with these people froze where they stood. The daughter looked around frantically, her gaze shifting from one moving person to another. Meanwhile, the father quietly assessed the situation before he quickly left his child at the corner of the room, beside the window.

The father marched to the bed of the crying toddler and straight up smacked him across the face. The child lost consciousness which made everyone froze in the middle of what they were doing.

The nurse gasped sharply and looked at the father with disgust. “How dare you hit the child!”

“If I didn’t that child and all of us are already feasted upon by zombies.”

The room grew quiet as they all listened to the soft groaning from the other side of the door. Then, the nurse hissed while glaring at the father.

“They are still outside!”

“Do you think they can smell us?” asked one of the adults with them before a gentle slam on the door made them jumpy.

“Oh, no!”

“They’ll enter now!”

The father gave the nurse a stern look before he looked at the unconscious child with pity. The nurse just shook her head at him in disappointment before she checked on the unconscious child.

The knocking on the door grew louder and more frequent. It inspired the father to make a big decision.

He returned to his daughter and pulled her by the hand toward the door. Their company were too busy trying to figure out what to do with the zombies knocking on the door but one of them noticed the two.

“Where are you going?”

The father turned and scanned each and every face in the room before responding.

“We’re leaving.”

“How? Through that door? You can’t let the zombie get in here!”

“They won’t.” The father was unfazed. “I’ll shove them away from the door and you have to take that chance to immediately shut the door behind us.”

“Are you trying to say that you’ll sacrifice your life? For us?” another adult asked.

“No. I just want to get out of here already with my daughter. I don’t want our departure to cause any inconvenience to other people like you, so I’m giving out some instructions already.”

“P-Pa . . .” his daughter protested softly in a scared, tiny voice. She was looking up to him with her free hand tugging the end of his shirt.

“You can’t get out there with your daughter. You will only put her in danger,” the nurse finally spoke after making sure that the toddler the father just smacked was alright.

“I can protect her, and she can pick up instructions already.”

“Still,” a rough looking young man stepped forward and pulled back his daughter by the shoulder. “You can’t bring her along with you.”

“I have the right to do so  She’s my daughter,” the father gritted in controlled fury. A stranger was crossing the line that should not be crossed; his authority as a father to his own child, to be specific.

“How about we make a deal?” the young man grinned devilishly. “You leave your daughter here, like a collateral. You’ll get her back after you get out of this building and make the militia outside rescue us in here.”

There were voices of agreement in the background. The rest of the people in the room sounded in favor of this audacious young man.

But for the father, there was no way he would leave his daughter in the company of strangers, in the arms of people who would surely endanger his child in exchange for their survival. They made be kind people, but in times of crises, the kindest one could be selfish and sacrifice other’s live for their own. The father would never risk his daughter’s life just to gain these strangers’ favors.

“No,” the father firmly stated as he tugged his daughter back to his side.

His daughter let out a yelp, then looked at her father with teary eyes. Her fear was starting to cut deeper, but she lost her voice in that moment.

“What no?” the young man was about to grab his daughter’s shoulder but he smacked it away.

The young man looked at his arm before throwing a sharp, glaring underlook at him. He looked fierce, but the father was not threatened at all.

“Tin-Tin, once I got out of the door, stay close to my back and shut the door fast,” he instructed his daughter.

“But P-Papa . . .”

“Do as I say.”

“No way.” The young man turned to the others. “What are you all waiting for? They can’t just leave without helping us get out of here!”

The people exchanged confused looks before the young man charged at Tin-Tin. The father was quick though. He pulled Tin-Tin to hide her behind him then grabbed the young man by the collar.

“You want to get out of here? Then I’ll give them a reason to kick you out of here,” he gritted and before the young man knew it, the father already bit off his shirt and shoulder.

Those who were about to break them apart halted in shock. They watched, horrified, as the father spat out the cloth, flesh, and skin that he just bit off from the screaming young man.

Then, the father threw him to the floor and rushed to the door. His daughter quickly ran after him out of confusion and panic.

The father kicked the door open, smacking some of the zombies away from them. The daughter looked back to the room and caught a glimpse of the young man who was bleeding from his bit off shoulder as he kicked and slid on his ass against the floor while wailing and writhing in pain. The rest of the people in the room were too terrified they stepped away from the young man instead of helping him.

“T-That man is a zombie!” the nurse declared while looking at Tin-Tin’s father.

Tin-Tin refused to accept the truth, making her slam the door close just like how her father instructed her to do. When she turned to him, she saw him shoving away the zombies that charged him. Tin-Tin was overcame by fright, she forgot the nurse’s remark about her father and stayed close to his back. As soon as the father managed to push down the three zombies, he pulled her by the arm and headed to one of the corridors.

Meanwhile, the tension inside the children’s ward was rising.

“Get him out of here!” one of the adults shrieked.

The few in children in the ward were awakened by the commotion. Most of them were crying, looking for their parents.

The nurse forgot the patients, she was already participating in the number of furious and frightened survivors who were trying to shove the injured young man to the door. They used a metal rod for the dextrose, a chair, and even whipped the young man with a belt, just to send him to the door.

The young man, despite the torturous pain on his shoulder, tried to fight back by kicking and twisting his body away from the door while he was already half-lying on the floor where he left a trail of his blood.

“Why don’t you just get out of here? You’re already a goner, man!”

“We want to live!”

“Get out! Get out!”

In the next few minutes, Akira witnessed a carnage so brutal it spared not a single soul inside that ward. Blood splattered and pulsing flesh scattered everywhere, painting the room in red and pale apricot. The furnitures tumbled and fell in disarray as a result of desperate strategies to hide and survive the wild spread of the virus that produced four zombies in just fifteen minutes who ate up six people, including children.

But not a single emotion reflected on Akira’s face because he was already immune to these sights.

Since Akira was the presidential guard and a part of Agila Special Ops, he was picked to represent the militia who were assigned outside of Citadel. It was the most convenient thing to do since the head of Agila Special Ops had his own headquarters situated outside the glass dome, inside a mobile armored truck that was always on the go but rarely returned to Citadel. Therefore, among the Agila Special Ops officers, Akira was the easiest to approach.

“So, he started this?” the President asked—pertaining to the father in the video—after he used a remote to pause the video being shown on the projector screen inside a meeting room in Malacañang.

“I don’t think so,” Commander Nico replied. He looked cold and unfeeling with a buzz cut hair and was wearing his gray Lawin Special Ops uniform. His built was big and muscular, his aura was intimidating. He sat on the chair in front of the long desk, right across where the president sat. Like everyone, the two sat facing the front where the projected screen was set up. “Like what you saw earlier, that father and daughter, along with the others, ran and hid in the children’s ward. I don’t think the people will stay with them if they knew that he’s a zombie. He also looked clean, humanly, and presentable when he got inside that room with his daughter and several other people.”

“But he bit a man in there, then the man turned into a zombie,” President Carlos insisted calmly.

“What’s weirder is that, they became fully infected in just a few minutes. They did not undergo the usual one week process of turning into a zombie like the fever, the graying of the skin . . .” said the head of Team Aegis, Marina Pacilla, in a relaxed tone. She was a stout woman who always kept her straight, black hair neatly pulled back into a low bun. She wore the white uniform with a mercury symbol and a neon green band on the arm of her suit.

“Does it mean . . . the virus has already evolved into something more contagious? More dangerous?” President Carlos turned to look at Marina.

“It’s called a mutation,” she corrected, making the president wince and feel disappointed at himself. He was a doctor but ever since he became a political figure, he seemed to forget some of the things that took him years to study and master. The Team Aegis Head remained unaware of his thoughts and confirmed, “When a virus mutates, it means it develops some new characteristics in order to be able to adapt to its surroundings, to gain immunity, and to be capable of moving from host to host with ease. And yes, a mutation is possible with this zombie virus we are dealing with, based from what we saw in the video.”

“We need to find that man—” Commander Nico started in a tone so heavy and vindictive that the Team Aegis Head could already tell what’s on his mind.

“—and keep him alive,” Marina immediately stated.

Commander Nico glared at her. “You said it yourself, Doctor Marina! That man is carrying a deadlier virus! We can’t let him live and infect more people!”

“But we need him to study this new variant of the zombie virus,” Doctor Marina explained calmly, unaffected by the soldier’s passionate demand. “We have to find out the characteristics of the new virus variant.”

“And we can use it to develop the immortality pill, right?” the president asked.

“If you’ll entrust the formula of the pill to us, Mr. President,” Doctor Marina stated with a subtle ambitious glint in her eyes.

The president looked away, making his eyes accidentally land on Akira. “What are your thoughts, Akira?”

“None as of now,” he replied while staring a the paused video on the projector screen. “My only suggestion is for us to finish watching every recorded video during the incident before we come into any conclusion.”

“I agree,” Doctor Marina said. “We have to keep track of that man and his daughter, observe how they behave because that might give us a clue about the new virus variant.”

Akira glanced at everyone. “But the footage is pretty long and there are more rooms that need to be seen. So, why don’t we divide the footages into each one of us? Commander Nico will be assigned to watch and assess the videos recorded in the wards, Doctor Marina will watch the videos recorded in the waiting lounges, the president will watch the videos for the offices, and I will be watching and assessing those recorded in the corridors and emergency exits.”

“That’s a good idea,” President Carlos nodded to Akira. “That will get our job done faster.”

“Can I also send out my people to hunt for this man and his daughter?” Commander Nico chimed in. His determination was burning in his eyes.

Then president turned to Commander Nico, “You’re not going to hunt for anyone yet. After assessing the videos, we will be having another meeting before we brief our people on what to do, particularly to that man who bit someone in the hospital.” Then, to Doctor Marina. “Doc, please give me a quick update about your assessment of the new variant.” He shifted glances between Commander Nico and Akira. “You two, quickly coordinate with Doc Marina about anything regarding that man and his daughter that you’ll see in the videos assigned to you. That will help her with her initial assessment about the new variant of the virus.”

Commander Nico said yes, and Akira just nodded.

It took around two days for the IT staff of the government to compile the footages from the CCTV cameras, categorized based on locations. That was why their meeting for assessing the footages was only held on this day. And since the footages were compiled, they were stored in four separate flashdrive sticks that the four distributed to each other based on the footages they were assigned to watch.

When the president dismissed their meeting, Akira was the first to leave the room. His stone-like demeanor showed a hint of satisfaction and relief while a short flashback played at the back of his mind. It was that day when Cjay went home from the mall while he got dropped off in front of San Laurel Hospital to search for Natalia . . .

Akira took out his wallet and flipped it to the transparent sleeve that showed his ID next to a small family picture. Akira pointed at the long-haired woman in that family photo, Natalia.

“Have you seen her? Did she ask you about what’s going on inside the hospital?”

The young soldier, around 22 to 23 years old, with lean physique and slightly sagging gray uniform squinted his eyes. It was the blare of the sun, reflecting against the plastic that covered the photo that made the image hard to make out for him.

While the soldier was looking at the photo, Akira’s alert eyes started scanning the whole place, particularly the hospital. He happened to see something shot through one of its windows. Something hard to pin point if it was a human, but the pink and denim colors of the clothes reminded him of someone . . .

After checking the photo, the soldier stepped back and slightly shook his head.

“I did not saw her and no one asked me questions earlier, Captain Akira,” the soldier said, making Akira return his eyes to him.

“Just call me Akira,” he clarified in a tight tone before  he quickly shoved the wallet back in his back pocket. “Please, ask your officer-in-charge to permit me to roam around the hospital.”

Unfortunately, Commander Nico did not let him get inside the hospital. The commander was just too confident that he could convince the president to bomb the building, which Akira thought was stupid because the bombing could damage the glass dome that sealed in the city. He kept his thoughts, of course, because he believed that the president would more effectively knock some sense into the chaotic, trigger-happy commander’s head.

Akira took one last look at the black flashdrive stick he was holding before he shoved it in his pants’ left pocket. Then, he securely cradled his long gun with his left hand before heading straight to Cjay’s bedroom.

He checked and saw that his boss was still sleeping. Akira used the other end of the flashdrive stick which was compatible with the port of his smart phone. He jacked the flashdrive stick in and accessed the video in it before putting on one earphone on his left ear.

Akira sat on a chair that leaned against the wall beside Cjay’s bedroom wall. He fast-forwarded and watched the footage then paused it when he got to the part where the father and daughter could be seen on a hallway. He rewinded the video because before the two walked by, a silhouette of a figure walked by that same hallway first.

He adjusted the brightness of the video, but Akira still had a hard time to figure out who the creature was. It slouched as it walked, it had long nails on its hands and feet . . . too long and too pointy. Its long, black hair caped over its slouched back and shoulders, almost reaching its ankles since it also bent its knees as it walked. The clothes were torn in a fashion that made it hard for him to identify if they were a shirt, a blouse, or a dress. Until a light from one of the rooms touched the creature before it hid inside the door of the darker, opposite room.

Akira rewinded the video several timws before he managed to pause it at the exact image that he wanted to take a closer look at. He could not see the face because its long hair that framed its sides shadowed over it. But he could recognize the pink sweater pink that was torn by the sleeves.

He only knew one person who wore that kind of sweater and paired it with faded denim pants.

Akira’s eyes narrowed. “Natalia.”