Corpse As Body, Corpse As Meal

15

THERE was dead air. Commander Nico was pressuring President Carlos to just bomb the hospital even if ther was a possibility that survivors, waiting to be rescued, were trapped in it. In the president's opinion, that was laziness. Cowardice. He used to be a doctor, and becoming a president did not lessen his desire to save lives, especially those of the innocent. But he could not set aside the commander's hidden sentiment. He was afraid to lose manpower at a time where it was crucial. Losing soldiers would only increase the gap between the number of humans in the Philippines compared to the number of zombies, and being outnumbered by the latter was already a bothering enough.

Also, the risk of having the soldiers deal with the zombie would make the escape ratio bigger for the monster. The zombie could sneak out in their game of hide-and-seek, make its way out to the city, and then they were officially doomed because the people were collected in one place. The scenario would be similar to a single ant who got to feast inside a glass jar full of cookies. There would be nowhere else to hide if another outbreak occurs inside Citadel.

While Commander Nico waited for his response over the phone, the president looked around with observant eyes.

President Carlos sat straight in his chair with a high backrest made of woven abaca. The rest of the chair, especially its frame was made of solid narra wood painted white. In every corner of the office, his presidential guards stood wearing their black slacks and Barong shirts. One of their hands were always in a ready position, cradling their long guns. They also wore their own earpiece and a small box-like black gadget was clipped on their shirts' collar—a contemporary wireless microphone.

President Carlos carefully looked at his guards because inspite of the security they gave him, he still had room for doubt for them. It was just that he never completely trusted anyone since the crisis. That was rule number one for anyone in thr Citadel—trust anyone, but not completely.

He also knew very well that he wasn't everyone's first choice for presidency. There were still some people who would try to drag him out of his position or find faults in his authority. So, he had to be careful.

At the moment, President Carlos had to make a choice—a safe choice through a proper choice of words. The decision must be something that his security would not react violently about, given that they could hear everything that he says.

"I think, you can proceed with your plan, Commander Nico—"

He heard the commander's sigh of relief.

"—if," he continued. He never stopped talking anyway, "you can retrieve the CCTV recordings ng ospital."

'But that will take the operation longer than its supposed to be! Until when are the rest of my men going to monitor the people outside the hospital? Their lives will be put in danger if the zombie got one step ahead and escapes the hospital while we are busy looking for that goddamn video!'

"It's your job to demand the people to leave the vicinity. Also, the videos are important for first-hand account documentation regarding this zombie attack. Isn't first-hand account reports an SOP in your reports, commander?" He could already imagine Commander Nico's sour face. Commander Nico could not answer him, so he resumed. "We need to onow the whole story. It might help with the improvements of the Immortality Pill. So, if we can't get information from survivors who actually witnessed what happened, then we will have to depend on CCTV footages."

 'And if my men encounters some survivors . . . We will still be required to rescue them, right?'

President Carlos held back his demeaning laugh for Commander Nico. But what kind of question was that he was asking? He tried his best to stay calm as he answered, "Yes. What have you sworn yourselves into? To serve and to protect the citizens of Citadel, right?"