Corpse As Body, Corpse As Meal

6

THE VIRUS was a traitor. Its first symptom—a simple flu—didn’t giveaway its nature rightaway. It could only be identified when the patient has a peculiar bite, which could be easily seen on its first two to three days before the discoloration of the skin starts to cover up its traces. For these reasons, Team Aegis make rounds vigilantly in every homes and corners of Citadel because early detection of those infected was very crucial.

As much as possible, the ordinary people were not made aware of Team Aegis being permitted to own guns, like Aunt Hilda’s pistol, and being allowed to kill infected people. Publicizing this information would create a gap between the people and the medics. Knowing that the people you expected to cure you can also kill you would intimidate anyone and worse, drive them to become uncooperative and to lie to an Aegis out of fear. In Officer Macario Avenido’s case, eliminating the infected had been convenient for Team Aegis because they didn’t have to do it themselves. The soldiers living in that soldiers’ community had lend them a hand.

Since people were not made aware that Team Aegis operations involved killing the infected rightaway, here goes Natalia staring at the two urns placed in a small table on the altar. The table got flowers on its foot and was placed in front of a wall where a 12-inches long, wooden crucifix was put up. Aunt Hilda’s fine ashes rested within one of the white, porcelain urns. The Aegis’ cremation wasn’t questionable because it was part of the protocol when they die in a mission. Natalia had no clue that aside from the zombie’s bites, bullets also tore up her body.

The funeral was held in a small chapel. The silence was deafening because in spite of numerous white monobloc chairs divided into two groups by an aisle, the people who came were only composed of two officers each from Team Aegis, Lawin Special Ops, and Agila Special Ops; Lesley’s family who were all too stunned at the pace of events and couldn’t cry; and lastly, Natalia, Aunt Hilda’s only family who came here after the officers from Team Aegis picked her up from the apartment. The officers arrived about an hour after the president and his two bodyguards left Natalia’s apartment empty-handed. Empty-handed because Natalia just refused the offer to be Cjay’s assistant. Natalia sat on the chair at the end of the front row. She was the only person seated among the seats on the left side of the aisle. It was her smell that drove the rest of the mourners to occupy the seats on the right side of the aisle.

Natalia, like Lesley’s family, could not shed a tear too. She just stared at Aunt Hilda’s urn, trying to picture how she looked like when she died. How she wished her aunt didn’t have to be cremated. How she wished she could see how her aunt exactly looked when she died, even if her every muscles were torn to shreds, her skin was ripped open, or her organs were spilling out of her body. Natalia wouldn’t mind seeing Aunt Hilda’s corpse at its worst, not just because she was desensitized to gore but also because that would help her identify the nature of her aunt’s death. It might add something of value to what she already knew about zombies and how they attack or devour their victims.

Then, she sensed a presence behind her. Natalia didn’t have to look to know that it was President Carlos De Aguirre. They meet again.

Unbeknownst to Natalia, it had been the president’s routine to express his condolences personally at the relatives of those who lose their loved ones because of the epidemic—from those who got infected families up to those whose relatives were attacked by zombies. It was a very important obligation for the president because it was him who makes sure that those who were left behind would not get any ideas to blame these deaths to the president, the government.

“Hija,” he spoke from behind her, “think about the work I am offering you. Now that you’re on your own, it will be good for you to have a source of income . . . a better place to live in.”