EVENING came. Natalia did not expect that she will be opening their apartment’s door for President Carlos De Aguirre and his security. Her face was stoic but her body tensed perplexedly because she was alone in the apartment due to her Aunt Hilda’s overtime at work.

During the pre-epidemic, overtimes at work meant staying beyond work hours at a workplace to meet a deadline. In the medical field, it was either the lack of staff on duty or an emergency operation that extends an employee’s shift. Now—especially for those who work in Team Aegis—overtime means the medics are dealing with someone virus-infected. According to Natalia’s aunt, the only time consuming part of her job and the sole reason for their overtimes was when they encounter a zombie or someone infected with the zombie virus.

“P-President . . .” Natalia slowly stepped back, away from the door that she just opened. The respectable man’s face crumpled a little which made more self-conscious. Something was telling her that it must be the smell. She was aware that her bad odor that was so powerful it could beat the joint-forces of a rotten egg and spoilt food. “G-Good evening.”

‘I bet he’s here because of that zombie.’ Natalia pertain the term ‘zombie’ to Cjay.

The president smiled at her politely, even if his gaze seemed cold and serious. Two bodyguards stood behind him. They wore gray uniforms, had buzz cut hairs, and carried long guns which made it easy for Natalia to identify that they were soldiers from the Lawin Special Ops assigned to be part of the presidential security team.

She opened the door wider for them. “Please, come in.”

As the men walked in, Natalia quickly looked around the room. She recalled sweeping the floor earlier, but the living room still looked like a mess. The furniture were too old and worn out. Some decorations cluttered here and there. When you look at this place, it was similar to those yellowish, vintage photos—that’s how old and lifeless this apartment looked. In spite of Aunt Hilda having a job, they decided to never upgrade the place for hopes that they would be leaving this place anyway. Also, someone else used to live in this apartment during the pre-epidemic. The apartment building was abandoned way too long before the epidemic. It was only offered to the epidemic survivors to stay at since no owner claimed this abandoned, run-down building as their own.

Natalia scurried past her guests and tossed a throw pillow on one of the bigger holes on the sofa where a spring was sticking out. Then, she gestured a hand to the seat. “Please, have a seat.”

When the president got close to the sofa, Natalia immediately headed to the door to close it.

President Carlos seemed hesitant at first if he should sit or not. In the end, he reluctantly sat at the far end of the sofa that had no holes, only chipping blue leather. Meanwhile, the guards stood behind the sofa where the president sat. Their noses scrunched, possibly because of her rotten smell. They even stole glances around the room, as if looking for justice for the torture that their noses were going through. The two had absolutely no idea that it was her who smelled like a one-week old dead rat.

Natalia sat at the opposite end of the sofa, the part that she covered with a brownish throw pillow which wasn’t originally color brown. “What makes you visit here?” she asked, forgetting to act formal out of her restlessness. Natalia was hoping that that Cjay put in a good word for her.

“You should have already had an idea,” he replied formally, “because you took in my son last night when he got drunk.”

Natalia nodded and reminded herself to act normal. She had nothing to worry about because she did not harm that zombie, even if her mouth was already watering that time.

“You have also told my son that you only helped him because you want to receive a reward for it.”

‘That idiot! How dare he make me look like a gold digger in the president’s eyes!’

She laughed awkwardly. “Did I really say that, Mr. President? I don’t remember! Maybe, he is just suggesting that . . . that I deserve a reward for my kindness.”

Natalia smiled at him persuasively, but upon seeing her reflection in the president’s eyes, she realized how fake she looked. So, she immediately took back her ear-to-ear kind of smile.

President Carlos gave her a tightlipped smile in return then, he looked around the living room. “You live here with an Aegis?” he asked as he glanced back at her.

“Opo (Yes),” she answered.

“It’s very honorable to serve the country without asking too much for anything in return, like an Aegis. Since you’re with an Aegis, it’s no wonder that your first instinct when you saw my son was to help him.”

She nodded in agreement.

“Are you working?”

She could not help a nervous chuckle. That question was so unexpected, it took her off-guard. “Oh, my, Mr. President . . .” she avoided her eyes from his’. “I am not yet . . . working.”

She just said ‘not yet’ so that she would not leave an impression that she was a lazy bum. But honestly, she didn’t have any plan to apply for jobs in the near future. Or like, ever.

“I’ll lay it straight to you, Natalia, I believe in the saying about teaching a man to fish so you can feed him for a lifetime. That’s why my reward is going to feed you for a lifetime, if you have the staying power. You see, I am going to offer you a job as your reward.”

That made her gulp. ‘A job? I can’t have a job . . . I didn’t want to be around people! I am a . . .’

“As of now,” the president continued, clueless of what’s going on in her mind, “we are looking for an assistant for Cjay. Obviously, you’re already aware of his condition. He’s half-human, half-zombie. We consider him a half of both because he has the body of a zombie, but a rational mind of a human. Anyway, he still feeds on human meat but you have nothing to worry about. The immortality pills he was taking moderates his nervous system, enabling him to manage his thoughts and urges.”

She nodded to show President Carlos that she could keep up with the information overload. But deep inside, her disbelief was tremendous. ‘Half-zombie? That idiot is . . . not a full zombie?’

“Just like all of you ordinary citizens, I am concerned with our safety. Like you, I didn’t want my only son to be the threat to that safety, that’s why I hire an assistant for him. I know you’ll agree with me when I say that what my son did last night—getting drunk and walking around Citadel on his own—is such a big recklessness on his part. And that’s one of the reasons why he really needs an assistant.”

‘He’s just calling this job position an ‘assistant’ when he actually meant a ‘babysitter.’ Cjay needs a babysitter more than an assistant, because in spite of having the ‘rational mind of a human,’ he still cannot sit his ass at home and be sober for everyone’s sake,’ Natalia thought sarcastically while half-listening to the president.

“I believe that you can handle this job, Natalia,” President Carlos stared straight into her eyes, as if he was trying to hypnotize her. “If you managed to look after my son last night, it only means that you can take on the responsibilities that come with being his assistant.”

Natalia tried her best to keep the sulking to herself. ‘That’s it? That’s my reward?’

She faked a laugh. “Oh my, Mr. President! This is too much . . . You’re giving me a lifetime’s worth of reward, because imagine, you’ll be paying me every month! And . . . and think about the honor I’ll get for having the president entrust his son to me . . . I-I don’t think I deserve this much. You don’t have to go all out and give me this golden opportunity! I’m fine with just receiving a small amount of money, Mr. President!”

Natalia could not believe how plastic she was being. If only the president knew that she wanted to eat Cjay last night, he could have already commanded his soldiers to bust her brains with the bullets of their long guns.

“I insist on this,” he said softly. “Forget what I said earlier. This is not an offer anymore. I am giving this opportunity to you and you are going to accept it.”

How could someone talk so amicably while using words that seemed like threats? It was as if something bad was going to happen if she did not accept this job.

“I know, it can be a little scary sometimes to look after my son.” He explained further with the determination of a raging bull chasing a matador’s red cloth. “What if he completely becomes a zombie? What if he becomes completely brain dead? What if he eats your flesh? Fret not. I will give you all the means and protection just to be his assistant. If you want a daily dose of immortality pill, I will give you some, just take this job.”

Natalia’s eyes probed deeper into the man’s eyes. Was there really determination in his eyes or was it actually desperation? Because only a desperate person would offer his own son’s medicines to someone that he wanted to be his assistant.

Natalia was unable to respond when President Carlos’ cell phone rang. He pulled it out from his pocket. Paleness and perturbation flooded on his face when she looked at its screen.

“Excuse me,” he muttered and headed to the door without waiting for her reply. He did not go out, just stood by the door before answering the call. “This is the president speaking.”

Next, he fell silent, probably listening to the person talking on the other line. Natalia stole a glance at the guards who remained rooted where they stood like statues staring at nowhere. Seeing them remain firm and straight-faced added to their intimidating vibe.

Natalia shot her eyes back to the president when she heard him curse beneath his breath. She was not aware that it was only her who heard him curse, not the guards. Because of the president’s reaction to the phone call, Natalia sensed that it was a bad omen for what’s about to come.

“Secure everyone,” the president sighed to the caller.

***

OFFICER Macario’s symptoms were discernible when you look at him. It was so disturbing, one of his colleagues decided to call the Team Aegis’ hotline. This emergency call was the sole reason why the morning shift medics had to have overtime in order to attend to this concern.

According to the caller, Agila Special Ops’ Second Commander Greg, he dropped by the officer’s residence yesterday, around two in the afternoon. His purpose was to ask if Officer Macario will be able to join their troop in the next schedule of operations for Agila Special Ops outside Citadel. The officer reported for a sick leave a week ago and their commander instructed Greg to personally check on Officer Macario. They usually pay their officers a personal visit when they take leaves because militia men’s abandonment of their duties had been quite common ever since they were required to deal with zombies.

During Second Commander Greg’s visit, he noticed some gray patches on Officer Macario’s skin from his left arm to its wrist and from the base of his neck that goes on beneath his shirt. He was also talking too harshly and acting quite rough toward him.

Second Commander Greg’s suspicion grew when visited again this morning. Their conversation did not end well yesterday, so he thought Officer Macario might be in a better mood today. But this time, he noticed that Officer Macario’s family was still absent just like when he visited yesterday afternoon. It was odd when he thought about it, because if a father or a family man like Officer Macario was ill then he should have been left with at least one of his family members to look after him, particularly his wife. After all, his wife was not employed. She was a stay-at-home mom focused on taking care of her husband and their two kids, and keeping the house in order.

The officer in question, Macario Avenido, lives in the Soldier’s Community of Citadel and that’s where Team Aegis’ group of morning shift medics went. This group included Natalia’s Aunt Hilda.

Upon reaching mid-rise building, the medics got down from their white ambulance. They dashed inside in their white jumpsuit uniforms that carried the red logo of Team Aegis—a big alchemy symbol of Mercury printed on the back. When they entered, they were welcomed by military officers that have already lined up on both sides of the hallway at the fifth floor where Officer Macario’s unit was. These soldiers were in their casual clothes, but armed with various big powerful guns—AK-47’s, shotguns, and the likes—and ready. These people were allowed to bring home their weapons ever since it was decreed by the president after all the survivors moved in Citadel. They pressed closer to the walls, parting like the sea to give way to Aunt Hilda and the rest of Team Aegis medics that arrived.

The third door close to the far end of the floor was already open as part of everyone’s precautionary protocol. It will ease the access and escape of the medics once Officer Macario becomes impossible to detain.

Team Aegis has a hierarchy based on their roles. The lowest of them were the first-aiders. These members of Team Aegis didn’t have to be doctors or nurses, just people who can easily memorize what to look out for when it comes to symptoms and knows how to ask the right questions. They were also always the first one who goes in contact with the patient or people suspected for having a zombie virus infection. Team Aegis wear the same uniforms, but their distinction based on their roles and job description could be seen on the thick rubber wrapped on their right arm. It was a rubber with the width of a palm and for the first-aiders, the color of their arm bands were red.

When the first-aiders got inside Officer Macario’s room, he was seen lying on his bed. The gray patches on his skin had completely spread all over his body. His eyes, reddish at their corners, shot a glare at the medics.

“Who are you?” he asked in a hoarse voice. His hair was a mess like a grassland ran through by a tornado, each strand were combed in various directions.

The first aiders exchanged glances. Their eyes seemed to talk to one another, sharply and quickly, but behind their calm exterior they were horrified. Meanwhile, Aunt Hilda’s eyes remained on the officer. She could not look away because she was also trying to remember how Cjay looked like when she saw him last night. Aunt Hilda observed that there was not much of a difference with how Officer Macario and the presiden’t son looked like.

“He’s infected with zombie virus,” Aunt Hilda murmured lowly. The fear creeping all over her body took away her strength to speak audibly.

“What?” another first-aider asked her.

Hilda stepped back. She recalled when Natalia left her with Cjay last night. How that wretched boy gave her the creeps by grinning at her and scanning her with his red-cornered eyes every now and then. He gave the most uncomfortable suggestions last night on how to soothe the burning in his gut caused by alcohol. Cjay told her that maybe he needed to eat some meat. He did not specify what meat it was, but obviously, a zombie like him was referring to human meat. Thankfully, the saying about finding opportunities during a crisis was true. Because when Aunt Hilda thought she was about to die, she thought of suggesting to Cjay to drink a lot of water. The water helped with his burning gut, so she blabbered to him to ‘feel at home’ and just take whatever he needs in the kitchen without asking her permission anymore, then she immediately went to bed. Aside from locking her bedroom door, she also propped the night table and a chair against it. She hung her pistol on the left post of her bed’s head board for quick access just in case.

“We just need to check your stats, sir,” Lesley, a male first-aider, answered politely to Officer Macario’s question. He looked fine but his legs were already shaking a little.

“What for? Why don’t you just go and check the president’s son instead, you animals?” the officer snarled while consistently knocking away the gloved hands of the medic that gently insisted on holding his arm.

Aunt Hilda recovered from her encounter with Cjay last night. Officer Macario’s brash screaming reminded her of the delicate situation they have gotten themselves into. She had to secure their survival.

“His skin is not yet decaying,” Aunt Hilda said to her colleagues collectedly, “but the complete discoloration of the skin into gray is one of the symptoms of the zombie virus when it’s on its fatal stage.” The fatal stage of the virus is when the discoloration of the skin was completed, and when the infected begins consuming live human meat.

The first-aider leader, Corinne, firmly called. Among their group, she was more composed even if she stood at the foot of Officer Macario’s bed. “Lesley. Get away from him.”

Lesley glanced at her. “Ma’am Corinne—” his voice was cut short when Macario made a lunge at his neck.

First, they heard the crack of a tendon, followed by splattering of blood. No one foresaw that Officer Macario already has the ability to overstretch his facial muscles, particularly the corner of his lips, making him capable to cut Lesley’s neck so deep his teeth could reach its tendon.

Lesley screamed and the louder it becomes everytime he pushes away Officer Macario from his neck. He should have been unconscious or dead, but there must be something about the fight and flight response that kept a man going, fighting for their survival. Lesley’s eyes were almost blank, making him seem mindlessly obeying whatever his instincts orders him to do. The soldier’s teeth would not just let go. Each push makes it hard for Lesley, more painful because he was losing more blood and painting both his’ and Officer Macario’s faces with its redness. And when Lesley stopped pushing him away and decided to pull himself away from the zombie, the skin of his neck stretched until it was torn open, peeling it away to expose his red beating flesh and splatter more blood.

Horrified screams filled the room as the medics’ training knowledge was taken over by the instinct to run. Run as far as they can! Run out of the unit!

But Aunt Hilda didn’t run. She didn’t know what got into her but there was something about witnessing someone’s blood jump and sputter out of their neck as a zombie pushed and pulled his head while eating out Lesley’s neck.

Corinne got her courage in tact. Admittedly, she was the first person who rushed to the door, but she quickly got back to her senses, stayed at the doorway, and gave way for the other first-aiders to escape. Corinne gave each first-aider a push at the back when they passed by her so they could get out of the door faster.

“Hilda!” Corinne turned to Aunt Hilda when she noticed that she got left behind.

But how could Aunt Hilda hear Corrine? She was rooted to her place, paralyzed by fear. This was the first time she saw how a zombie consume a human it made her gawk. A lot of things ran through her mind, particularly Brandon. She began having second-thoughts about her desire to have her husband back even if he was already a zombie. It was a shock for her to realize that accepting a person when they became a zombie wasn’t as easy as she thought. It wouldn’t be like the way the people perceived and accepted Cjay. Brandon was not going to be as adorable, as rational-thinking, and as civil as Cjay Aguirre. And even if Cjay could blend in with the epidemic survivors, who knows when he will start acting like Officer Macario?

Aunt Hilda was slapped by reality right in the face at this moment. She had come to learn that she would not be able to accept Brandon back in her life if he had already turned into this kind of monster!

When the medics jumped out of the door, the soldiers began thumping in. One of the soldiers accidentally knocked Aunt Hilda down, making her drop face down at the foot of Officer Macario’s bed. The zombie tossed away the lifeless Lesley. He managed to bend his body forward without folding his straight legs beneath the blanket. Then, he reached for Aunt Hilda’s head with one hand. His fingers sunk on her scalp like sharp talons as he pulled her hair and head up like a claw in a crane machine dragging her from the foot of the bed to his lap. Aunt Hilda was submissive out of mixed confusion and fear. She felt powerless under the zombie’s effortless way of dragging her by the head with just one hand. Then, he twisted his wrist—a motion that made him twist Aunt Hilda’s head and snap her neck—and lifted her head to his mouth to chomp on her jaw. Her blood sizzled, making the eyes of the bloody-faced zombie glint with excitement, encouraging it to pull back and come back to greedily bite her face deeper.

The soldiers already got into their positions. One of them released a heavy huff, initiating them all to fire a rain of bullets on Officer Macario and Aunt Hilda. For a good five minute, the room was filled with a combination of short, explosive banging, quick thudding, and consistent crackling cacophony of gunshots.

Macario let out a bloodcurdling shriek, followed by a monstrous hiss before he began spurting out blood and some chunks of human flesh from his mouth. He dropped Aunt Hilda on his lap, making her head roll to face the soldiers and show them her blood dripping from her parted mouthlood while her deformed jaw glistened with red blood that sprinkled and dotted also on her face, chest, and the center of her open eyes.

After that, the soldiers took two or three steps back and observed the bodies as they convulsed for a minute more before they became stiff.

When the two remained motionless on the bed for two minutes, they saw Lesley’s body throb slightly at the right side of the floor, beside the bed. His blank eyes were fixed—one turned upward, the other turned to its left. His bleeding neck was cracked open like a fragile tree branch snapped halfway and the blood was its the thick, dripping sap. Lesley’s cough sounded phlegmic because of the blood clotting in his throat. So, the soldiers tattered Lesley’s body with bullets too.