Sombi

by Jonas Sunico

  The house looks as if it’s about to fall apart any minute. And this place is not much help in zombie defense either. Did I forget to mention that we have no food and water? I guess if we shut our mouths and stay quiet we might survive the night. I can keep my mouth quiet, not so sure about my stomach though. I’m really hungry.

  “Barong-barong. New word for you.”

  Aah. My vocabulary expands yet again.

  READ. LEARN. SURVIVE.

  It’s a small place, probably just a few square meters and it looks like it was occupied a few days ago.

  Without a word, Carla took the food and water she found from under the cloth. There were 10 cans of sardines, 4 big bottles of water and a few packs of biscuits. These could last us a couple of days but Carla said we should eat all we can and just look for supplies tomorrow.

  We ate a lot and got full. Believe it or not, we finished everything. Thanks to Askal who consumed 5 cans of the sardines.

  “He eats A LOT. He’s gonna be a problem y’know. Ano nga pala pangalan niya?”

  I say Askal’s name and then Carla laughs hysterically, just like Mr. Senator when I also said Askal’s name. So I finally decide to find out why they laugh at it so much. I’ve been calling this dog Askal for weeks now, might as well know a little background on the name.

  “Askal talaga? Hahahaha ang shala ng aso mo, then you’re going to say THAT’S his name?? Askal is Asong Kalye in the Philippines, hahaha.”

  She proceeds to tell me about the “Askal” word and all I can do is feel sorry for this majestic dog to whom I’ve given a horrible name to. But I won’t change it, haha. Punishment for his gluttony I guess.

  I then tell her my origins. How I found Askal. How someone like me ended up here. How horrible yet adventurous the past weeks have been. How... isolated I feel in my own homeland.

  “So how about you, huh? Care to tell me something about yourself? If we’re destined to save asses, might as well know each other’s asses right?” I say.

  “Marikina... This was my home. You said you wonder how I’m so fluent right? Well, I lied. My knowledge in English didn’t come from the media. Uuummm... I come from a very rich family here. Our family is one of the main distributors of shoes. I had everything. Clothes that I wanted, food that I wanted, ALL of it. Sadly, I also got a bad family.”

  At this moment, I started to see Carla in a different way. The tiger that whupped me a while back is now a weak and hopeless kitten in the rain.

  “All they cared about was business. Family was the last thing they worried about. My dad was a gambler, a drunkard and a sadistic boss to his employees. My mother, a woman who liked A LOT of men; karinderiang bukas para sa lahat, ika nga nila. She was also very cruel. My sister—my little sister was a nightmare. She was as spoiled as a kid could be. And then there was me. The last remaining rose in a bush of thorns.

  “At first I just ignored my family’s faults and tried to be the better person, but time passed and... well, I figured I was turning into one of them. Every day I would visit the factory and ask workers to make these shoes I designed and I would fire them for the simplest failure to create the design.

  “One day I drew this design for pink 10-inch heels. It was my best design yet. I brought it to the factory and gave it to this woman; I gave her the day to do it. In the end, she was able to accomplish the task. It was spot on. But something was different. I entered the place where she worked and I saw tons and tons of failed shoes. In fact, she ran out of pink leather because of all the mistakes she made. I asked her where she got the pink leather for the shoes if she was all out of pink. She then showed me that the heels she made weren’t pink.

  “I looked at her hands and it was filled with gashes and wounds. The white leather turned pink because of her blood. Blood made from the fear of me. That was when I decided to leave. I’d die if I were to turn out like my family.

  “So I headed for the provinces, alone, with just some clothes and money. For months I waited for news about my family, how they were doing their best to look for their own flesh and blood. The news never came. No one came looking for me. So that’s when I decided to go to Manila. Being a beggar there would be better than being a beggar in the provinces I figured.”

  She lowered her head and tears fell to the ground. There was nothing else I could do but try and comfort her.

  So I sat next to her and offered her a shoulder to cry on. “Dito ka iyak sa balikat ko, Carla.” She did lay her head on my shoulder. And she cried even harder then. Askal lay down beside her and placed his head on Carla’s lap. Even the dog was comforting her. I guess we really are destined to be comrades.

  We both hear static coming from a corner of the room. I stand up and Carla begins to pet Askal to keep herself happy somehow... At least a little happy.

  I dig through junk and see this radio. It’s working!

  I tune it to look for better reception. All I hear is static. Just when I’m about to put the radio down, a familiar voice speaks.

  “Mga kababayan, sa panahong gaya ng ngayon, bayanihan lang ang magsasagip satin. Kelangan nating magkapit-bisig para sa sakunang ito. Tinatawagan ko lahat ng survivors na pumunta sa Malacañang Palace. Dito, may mahigpit na seguridad at sapat na rasyon ng pagkain at tubig. Mga kababayan, kaya natin to. Ako po si President ChiNoy, nagpapaalala sa inyo... Di pa huli ang lahat.”

  19

  The new plan is simple.

  We march towards the palace. That’s it.

  The goal is simple but the task is complicated. If we were still in Quiapo church, Malacañang would only be a few kilometers away. But Carla tells me that we are pretty far away now. Since the main roads are suicide (EVERYWHERE outside is suicide), she suggests that we take the road up top. The LRT train tracks.

  The nearest station to where we are in Marikina is Santolan Station. She says we’ll walk from there to Recto Station. Isang araw na lakad din daw yun, pero dun daw pinaka-safe.

  We went to a convenience store to gather supplies. While there, we managed to talk more. We got more closer (more na, closer pa) and I never felt happier, not since this whole “adventure” started. I told her about my weird dreams, my likes, my dislikes, my friends list, my followers. EVERYTHING. We even talked about the special types of zombies we’ve both encountered. It’s kinda scary to find out that there are more specials out there, aside from my TESbun and her BADing.

  It’s like a regular day where boy meets girl and tries to get close to her. Well, the zombies never fail to make us remember where we live now. We killed at least 20 just this morning. I notice that she’s pretty good with her machete, and she notices that I’m “keri lang” when I fight with my rattan sticks. Regular days are kinda hard to come across now I guess.

  I can see the sun rising from where we are now. One good thing I can say about the Philippines is that their sunsets are a real sight to see. Perlas ng Silangan nga daw.

  Carla seems awfully quiet once we get out of the store. It looks like she’s sad about something. “Bakit? Kulang pa ba food na kinuha natin?”

  “Wala. May iniisip lang ako.”

  She doesn’t respond well to my joke. So I ask her what’s wrong. She proceeds to tell me that we’re near her home. And that if it weren’t for this apocalypse, she would run to their doorstep right now.

  “Halika, uwi ka. We’ve got time to waste right? Maybe someone’s there.”

  She smiles and then nods.

  On our way there things are a bit more exciting. We cross paths with one of the BADings. It’s good that she knows how to take care of those things; still we had a difficult time fighting it. She used me as bait by the way. She told me afterwards that those things’ main target are men... Yeah right.

  I see numerous large shoes around us (I get it, okay—you’re the shoe capital of the Philippines already. The gigantic shoes are a bit unnecessary). Carla says that her family’s company are the makers of those shoes and that we are almost at her home. Thank God! My legs are killing me. (Sn
eaking around is good exercise. Exercise which I don’t need by the way.)

  We reach these huge gates. By the looks of it, it’s obvious that whoever lived here was filthy rich. Carla lived here.

  We climb up the walls. Since Askal can’t do it, he has to stay outside. He’s not Superdog. He can’t climb high walls. He’s just... a dog. Nothing special. The look he gave me while I said we were leaving him behind was just priceless. He looked sooo sad. He gave me puppy dog eyes which I almost couldn’t resist. I just wish we could use his cuteness against zombies.

  Their house (a mansion really) is 3 storeys high and designed to look like a medieval castle but with a more modernist approach. This place looks like it hasn’t been touched by the apocalypse.

  Carla proceeds to pull out this brick from a pillar. Inside is a key which she uses to open the door. I see Carla shed a tear, but I don’t mention anything. Aside from the fact that she might kill me if I did, I also think it’s best if Carla had closure here WITHOUT me pointing out how much of a sissy she is for crying.

  No signs of zombies. I follow her as she goes up 2 floors and enters this room. From the looks of it, it looks like it’s her parents’ bedroom. She sits down on the bed and then reads a diary that’s hidden under the drawer.

  “Put*ngina...*sob* tignan mo ’to. They never cared for me. Eto yung journal ng mom ko. Lahat ng entry niya mula nung umalis ako halos puro business lang ang laman. At imbis na mag-alala siya nung nawala ako, nagalit pa siya. Sabe niya ungrateful daw ako. Bullshit.”

  Her sobs turn to cries now. She throws the journal on the bed and I start to read. I can’t understand most of it but I get why she’s crying. But there’s something weird about this journal, the last page looks as if... it was torn off.

  Before she and I know it, two zombies enter the room. One is this old man in a tuxedo and this other, a woman in a dress. They look like they were about to go partying when shit went wrong. They’re both bloodied up. The man has half of his face ripped off while the woman’s missing her throat. I know that these “people” are Carla’s parents... At least they used to be.

  Carla stands up with a look on her face that could scare even Mr. Senator if he were here. She proceeds to hack and slash her parents while crying. All I can do is watch as she releases her anger.

  Her parents are unrecognizable once she’s done with them. She leaves the room soon after.

  I follow but before I catch up to her, I notice a note in her mother’s pocket. It’s all wet and bloody but it’s still readable. It’s the last page of the journal...

  Dear Carla,

  Sorry for everything. Sorry if your father and I showed much love for our business and showed little love for you. But we had to love the business if we were to give you everything you wanted.

  Me and your dad were heartbroken when you left. We could barely work. But we had to act tough to keep the business going. We spent millions looking for you. But we could never find you. You were good at hide and seek.

  Now... now that the world’s starting to crumble, I know that I’ll never get to see you again. I’m really sorry I failed you as a mother.

  Walang high-heels, stilettos, oxfords o kahit ano pang sapatos ang tutumbas sa pagmamahal namin sayo. Sana di mo naabutan ’tong zombie apocalypse na ’to. Ayokong isipin na mag-isa ka sa mundong ganito.

  I will always regret the day you left.... I love you Carla.

  I was left speechless. I couldn’t let Carla see this, not after what she did. But I’ll keep it. I’ll read it to her one day.

  20

  Carla has kept quiet ever since we got out of her house. Ever since she killed her mother and father. No matter how much she hated them, she still felt horrible after what she did. And this letter... a letter that professes a mother’s love for a child. There is no way Carla should see this. It’ll destroy her.

  Anyway, before heading out, she changed shoes. She wore this... shoe. Heck, I don’t know the difference among women’s shoes. All I know is leather and rubber. She also gave me new books to help in my language learning. They were the same as my old ones but these books are new and covered.

  Read. Learn. Survive.

  I’m reading, I’m learning... Not so sure about surviving though. Yeah, we slaughter zombies here and there but I learned that surviving isn’t about living and breathing. It’s about how safe you really are. If you can’t take a shit outside without the thought of dying, then it’s better to be dead. The constant idea of being bitten is worse than death you know. I mean, turning into one of those things... It’s just worse than death or any of those Chicser songs Carla’s been talking about.

  We’ve been walking these rails on the LRT for about an hour now. We started at Santolan Station; our destination is Recto Station, which judging by the map on the LRT card I found, is at the other end of the rails.

  The weather here is getting to me. It’s veeerrry hot. Askal’s feeling the heat too. While we walk, Askal constantly goes ahead of Carla to look at her face. He would then try to play with her but Carla’s just not in the mood.

  Some time later, Askal stops bugging Carla and goes to me. He looks at me with a face that asks, “Dude what the hell? Ano na naman ginawa mo sakanya? Bat ang sunget sunget na naman nito?”

  I wish I could answer him but I don’t speak Dog. I’m having a hard time learning Tagalog already, so tough luck for him.

  With the help of the books she gave me, I think I can finally have a simple conversation with Filipinos. There’s no one better to practice my new tongue with than the grumpy and the not-in-the-mood-to-talk-right-now Carla!

  “Kamusta ate? Magandang hapón po,” I said.

  “HAAA-pon, hindi hapón. Di ako taga-Japan.”

  At least she answered. I’m having a little trouble with the pronunciation I guess. I figured out I just called her a beautiful Japanese. At least she talked.

  “Kung gusto mo talaga matutong magtagalog, simula ngayon di na ’ko mag-i-english. Kuha mo?” She talked so fast I lost track of what she was saying. She was also quite masunget. I read through the dictionary and found out the she won’t be speaking English from now on. Great.

  The rail starts to slope down; we’re now at Katipunan Station. The place looks like your average subway. Luckily there are no zombies.

  “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

  ... Guess I spoke to soon.

  Out of the blue this female zombie comes out wearing a bloody dress which looks like an apron. She’s holding a butcher’s knife and her hair’s all shaggy. She has wrinkles all over her face, and those eye bags? I don’t even know what to say about them.

  “Special zombie number 3, pasok na kayo! ” Carla says in an energetic manner. Kinda like from a gameshow. I don’t know what she’s all excited about but she’s ecstatic. Blood lust flows again, I guess. Who knows what this thing can do? I’m excited to name her though.

  She looks at us with great anger, then she points her knife at us. She steps down to the rails. I thought she would run but... she starts to walk towards us, knife still pointed at us. The three of us look at each other in confusion as to what this thing will do.

  I guess Carla got sick of the anticipation so she charges at it and before she even gets close, the thing shouts at her with such force, she’s blown away. So that’s what makes her special. She has a sonic boom in that mouth of he.....

  Aaaand she shouts me away as well. I fly 15 feet in the air and land on my back. Pain strikes again. Things get hazy but I think the zombie is not moving. She’s just standing there. Carla’s on the ground looking at her as well. Askal on the other hand is growling and it looks like he’s trying to defend me. Good dog. I stand up and so does Carla.

  “Well... What do we do about this screamer?” I ask.

  “Ha? Di kita maintindihan. Tagalog pleeeeease.” What the hell?

  “Diba sabi ko di na ’ko mag-i-english? Di na rin ako nakakaintindi ng English ngayon.”

  Now’s not the time Carla! I think
to myself. She’s really insane sometimes.

  “Ugggh! Fine!” I ready my dictionary and just say what I think is right.

  “Ano gagawin natin sa.... bruha na ’to? Parang mahirap... makadikit sa kanya. Ano... diskarte?”

  “Dun ka sa harap; dun ako sa likod. Malas na lang ang masisigawan.”

  I translate her plan as quick as I can by just looking for the keywords she said. I don’t like the plan but I’ll still go along with it.

  On the count of 3, we both charge the beast. Askal charges as well, so now we’re taking it on from three sides.

  Looks like the plan will be good... At least for some of us. The zombie looks like she’s a bit disoriented as to whom to shout at. Kinda like a mother looking at which sibling to scold. Aha! I know what she is! She’s an angry mom! I mean look at her, apron, knife, haggard look, loud voice??? I mean what else could she be but a deranged mothe...

  *BOOOOooooom*

  Aaaaand I’m the unlucky child that got scolded.

  Things are hazy again and I find it harder to stand up this time. I look at them and see that Askal tackled the zombie while Carla went for the head. Askal was easily blown away with just a whisper from the zombie but Askal’s pain was worth it. Carla put her machete through the mouth of the zombie.

  The zombie then released this really deafening scream despite the machete in its mouth.

  I’m guessing it was her last laugh before she died. With all the ringing I hear in my head I manage to think about what that scream was for... It was a mother’s call for help.

  The noise. It will attract zombies here! On the tracks! We’ll be left with no hiding place here.

  “Tae... Takbo, takbo!”

  21

  “Hahahahahaahaha!”

  “Why are you laughing, you lunatic?” I ask the deranged Carla, who just a couple of minutes ago was pretty down. I don’t know what’s so funny about being chased by literally hundreds and hundreds of zombies on train tracks up in the air.