As the outbreak in Metro Manila escalated, the number of infected individuals surged. Inside the laboratory at Bonifacio Global City's medical center, Dr. de Luna sat in his chair, staring at his computer screen, anxiously awaiting a crucial call from the Department of Health. Across the room, his lab assistant, Sophia, wrestled with a decision: should she contact her family to warn them about the virus?
After a moment of deliberation, Sophia dialed her mother's number. The ringing tone echoed in the sterile room until her mother picked up.
"Sophia, why'd you call? Are you going to send us some money yet? You know, your cousin—" her mother began, launching into a familiar monologue about other people's accomplishments.
Sophia ended the call abruptly, frustration and sadness welling up inside her.
"Why did you do that?" Dr. de Luna asked, feeling for his carton of cigarettes.
"She always does that," Sophia replied, her voice tinged with hurt. "Whenever she thinks about me, Mom always compares me to others, like I haven't made anything of myself."
Dr. de Luna offered her a cigarette and lit it for her. They sat in a shared silence, each puff of smoke carrying their unspoken thoughts.
"What does your cousin do?" Dr. de Luna asked, breaking the silence as he exhaled a plume of smoke.
"You know, business stuff. Making lots of money, supporting their family, and their parents showing off how successful their children are," Sophia said, her voice trembling as smoke escaped her lips.
Dr. de Luna chuckled softly. "Many people don't understand our line of work. They think we're wasting our time peering into microscopes and researching pathogens, something far removed from the Filipino way of life, where earning money is paramount. They see business as the only worthwhile pursuit because it’s where the money is."
Sophia looked at him, feeling a sense of validation and understanding.
"When you're working, all they see is the money you make. Your income, your taxes, your net worth — they measure you by your possessions, the house you live in, the food you eat, the car you drive, and the places you travel. But they never see your accomplishments," Dr. de Luna continued, his tone reflective. "The information we gain in the lab and the efforts we put in our research, are nothing for them. In reality, it's worth more than any money your cousin earns."
"How so?" Sophia asked, intrigued by his perspective.
"For now, you should warn your family," Dr. de Luna said with a knowing smile.
Sophia nodded and typed a warning message about the outbreak to her family. "What about you, doctor? Have you told your family?"
"They don’t need to know. My family is overseas, running a real estate company, much like your cousin," Dr. de Luna replied.
"I see, doctor," Sophia said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Thank you for your insights. I feel... liberated."
"I’ve been in your position before," Dr. de Luna said kindly. "Be proud of yourself. You're working in a medical center, doing great work. That’s what matters."
Sophia smiled, feeling a newfound sense of pride and purpose.
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After their conversation, moments later, Dr. de Luna's phone vibrated, the awaited call finally coming through. He assumed it was the Department of Health.
"Doctor Vincenzo de Luna speaking. Who am I talking with?" he answered, his voice steady.
"This is Doctor Angeles, secretary of DOH. I’ve reviewed your research paper. We followed the mitigation protocol you included for the mater lyssavirus outbreak, the police force are actively positioned in their checkpoints, we also informed the public immediately about the viral outbreak, I just hope it won't cause mass panic but awareness." said Dr. Miriam Angeles, the Department of Health secretary, as she got into a van after a media conference at the DOH Hall. "Meet me at the coordinates I will send to you. General Camille Villafuerte, the Armed Forces of the Philippines' chief of staff, herself and Director General Alejandro Sangalang of Philippine National Police requested you to provide more intel on planning the establishment of a quarantine zone and medical research facility in Northern Luzon. ASAP. We only have an hour."
Dr. de Luna exhaled a plume of smoke, glancing at Sophia. "And the president?" he asked.
"We haven’t heard a word from the president. Worst case scenario, he’s infected. General Villafuerte ordered the Presidential Security Group to search Malacañang Palace, but no signs of the president so far."
"Very well. Send me the coordinates. I'll be on my way." Dr. de Luna ended the call as Dr. Angeles sent him a link via SMS.
Accessing the link, the coordinates appeared on his map app. It pointed to a location on the North Luzon Expressway - E1, an ideal site for a quarantine zone: far from urban areas, with an extensive perimeter and wide roads to accommodate the heavy traffic of evacuees.
"Sophia, help me print our research materials," Dr. de Luna instructed.
Sophia immediately accessed the cloud storage on her computer, finding the PDF files of their research papers, patient examination records, and other crucial materials. Meanwhile, Dr. de Luna organized the papers into labeled folders and placed them in a box file.
"Why do we need all of this printed out, doctor?" Sophia asked.
"It's possible that electric utilities and internet service providers will be unavailable soon, considering the outbreak could have massively affected all the economic sectors by now. Without immediate access of this information, we can't do anything, and there's no chance for us to fight and survive against the virus, and we, the experts, are entitled to have them first hand. We have the important duty of researching, securing, and delivering this information to the mass. Therefore, giving them their chance of survival." Dr. de Luna explained. "If I get infected, at least our research progress is saved, and there’s hope for the other experts to continue it without starting from scratch. Knock on the wood at that."
Sophia realized the gravity of his words. In the face of an outbreak like the mater lyssavirus, survival depended on information.
Once all the materials were printed, Dr. de Luna carried the box file to his desk. He opened a drawer and revealed a Glock 17 pistol, surprising Sophia.
"This is just for desperate measures," Vincenzo said as he inspected the firearm, checking the rounds in the magazine and the safety lock. He then put on his medical face mask and gloves. "Sophia, wear your PPE. We're relocating to our new research lab."
Sophia followed his instructions, donning her personal protection equipment.
"Can you carry the freezer box?" Dr. de Luna asked.
"I can do it, don't worry," Sophia replied, picking up the freezer box containing the mater lyssavirus specimens from the counter.
"Great." Dr. de Luna walked to the door of the laboratory. "We are going to the parking lot. Stick close to me and stay calm."
Though tense about their plan, Sophia knew it was their only chance to leave the medical center safely. "Okay," she responded, gripping the freezer box tightly.
"Let's go." Dr. de Luna led the way, determination and urgency in every step.
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Upon opening the door of the laboratory, the hospital hall stretched before them. Dr. de Luna held his gun upright, and Sophia followed closely behind. The noise of the restrained infected echoed through the hall, their screams and hisses emanating from the patient rooms. The hospital management had instituted a protocol to tie the infected to their bed frames to minimize the spread of the infection, which explained why no infected individuals were roaming the halls.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Sophia tried to suppress her fear as they moved forward, each step light and cautious. The aggressive sounds of the infected filled the air, making her heart race.
As they turned a corner, Dr. de Luna suddenly stopped, causing Sophia to bump into his back.
A doctor stood in the middle of the hallway with his back turned.
"Shit," Dr. de Luna muttered, trying to think of a way to determine if the doctor was healthy.
As he pondered their next move, Sophia tapped him urgently. A nurse emerged from one of the infected patients' rooms, saliva dripping from her mouth. Sophia pointed at the infected nurse, her eyes wide with alarm.
The infected nurse saw them and screamed, charging towards Sophia. Dr. de Luna quickly aimed his gun and pulled the trigger, shooting the nurse between her bloodshot eyes. She collapsed to the floor, the gunshot ringing throughout the hallway. Another infected nurse ran out from a nearby room, hissing violently. Dr. de Luna fired another two consecutive shots, hitting her in the shoulder and then in the head.
Realizing they had alerted all the nearby infected, Dr. de Luna made a quick decision.
"Sophia, let's go!" he shouted.
As they rounded the corner, the doctor who had his back turned screamed, revealing he was infected. Dr. de Luna fired three shots at point-blank range, but the shots didn't stop the infected doctor. The infected doctor tackled him to the ground, knocking his eyeglasses off.
Before the infected doctor could bite Dr. de Luna, Sophia struck him with the freezer box, knocking him off Dr. de Luna.
"Doctor, shoot him!" Sophia shouted.
Crawling backward and struggling to see, Dr. de Luna pointed his gun at the blurry figure. Sophia clasped her hands over his, steadying his aim.
"Shoot!" she urged.
With Sophia's help, Dr. de Luna fired a bullet through the infected doctor's head.
"Doctor, are you okay?" Sophia asked, releasing his hand.
"I'm fine—my eyeglasses, can you help me find them?" Dr. de Luna sat up, feeling around for his glasses.
Sophia quickly retrieved them from the floor and handed them back. "Here."
"Thank you." Dr. de Luna adjusted his cracked glasses and stood up, holding the box file. "We need to move quickly. Considering there are infected staff here, the lower floors might be full of them. We can't use the escalator, stairs, or elevators—it's too risky." Dr. de Luna formulated a plan. "We'll head for the emergency exit and access the parking lot from the basement. Can you follow?"
"Sounds like a safe plan. Lead the way, doctor," Sophia replied.
"Okay," Dr. de Luna exhaled, steadying himself. He moved forward cautiously, gun at the ready.
They hurried down the hallway, focused on locating the emergency exit. The tension was palpable, but their shared determination kept them moving. They navigated the halls, alert for any signs of danger.
Finally, they reached the door with the emergency exit sign. Dr. de Luna pushed the door open, revealing a stairwell leading to the lower floors and basement. He gestured for Sophia to follow him.
"Stay close," he instructed.
Sophia nodded, clutching the freezer box tightly. They descended the stairs quickly but carefully, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the confined space.
…
"Sophia," Dr. de Luna called softly, breaking the silence.
"Yes?" she responded, her voice steady despite the tension.
"Back at the laboratory, I want to apologize for telling you to go home," Dr. de Luna said, recalling his earlier words. "I didn't know the situation was already this bad out here. It might sound bad, but in my mind, I thought sending you to be with your family one last time was the best thing to do. I think it's just a part of me wanting to be a good senior, but I failed."
Sophia was caught off guard, feeling a blush creep up as she saw this vulnerable side of Vincenzo.
"It's fine, doctor," Sophia said, fumbling with her words. "I didn't want to go and stayed anyways."
"You know, you can stop with the formalities and 'doctor' thing," Dr. de Luna said. "Call me Enzo. Vincenzo still sounds a little too formal to me."
"Why so? You're my senior... I shouldn't refer to you that way."
"We already smoked together, consider me a friend."
"Okay, doc — Enzo." Sophia laughed a little as she almost called him doctor again, her cheeks turning red. "Sorry, it might take some time to get used to it."
"Thanks for saving me back there," Enzo said. "I owe you one. Let's have a coffee break once we get out of this place."
Sophia blushed even more as they continued descending the stairs.
As they reached the basement level, Enzo pointed out the
"Ready when you are, doctor," Sophia said. "Oops, I did it again."
Enzo released the magazine of his pistol to check the remaining bullets. "Shot one, shot two — three — one," he counted. "Seven out of seventeen — ten bullets." He slid the magazine back in.
"Let's go," Enzo said, adjusting his eyeglasses.
...
Upon opening the door to the parking lot basement, an infected emergency medical service driver screamed, his eyes locked onto Enzo in rage. Enzo immediately shot the man in the head, the body falling back down. The sound of the gunshot echoed, likely attracting more infected, so Enzo decided to run to his vehicle as planned.
"Sophia, run!"
They sprinted towards the car, the sound of their footsteps blending with the approaching infected. The infected were closing in from all directions, their screams echoing through the parking lot. Enzo aimed and fired, taking down those in their path with headshots and disabling others by shooting their legs. The parking lot was a cacophony of gunfire, screams, and the clinking of bullet shells hitting the ground.
Approaching his crystal white pearl Toyota GT86, Enzo shouted, "Go to the other side!" He shot a nearby infected next to the car and rushed towards it. Placing the box file on the roof, he fumbled for his car key in his pockets while Sophia ran to the passenger side.
Finally, Enzo unlocked the vehicle with the remote key, opened the door, and threw the box file into the backseat. "Get in!" he yelled, continuing to fire at the closest infected until Sophia was safely inside.
Sophia opened the door and quickly entered the car, sitting in the passenger seat with the freezer box in her hands. Hearing her door slam shut, Enzo ceased firing, entered the vehicle, and locked the doors. He pressed the remote key to start the engine, the dashboard's lighting as the engine sounded and the head unit blinking open with the car's logo.
"Wear your seatbelt," Enzo instructed as he fastened his own.
Sophia quickly followed suit.
The infected were closing in on them outside the vehicle. Just before they reached the car, Enzo revved the engine, turning the steering wheel towards the exit of the parking lot. He stomped on the clutch, shifted to first gear, and stepped on the throttle pedal, releasing the clutch. The car moved forward and sideways, drifting as Enzo expertly counter-steered to control the slide. The rear bumper hit an infected, throwing it away.
"What the—" Sophia clutched her seat, feeling the car's immense inertia from the drift. She glanced at Enzo, who was fully focused on controlling the car.
Enzo caught the car's balance and drove straight towards the exit, avoiding more infected along the way. The road to the exit was curved, and just before reaching the corner, Enzo steered, kicked the brake pedal to initiate a slide, pressed the clutch, and pulsed the throttle. The car drifted flawlessly through the curve, Enzo counter-steering to balance the slide.
The muffled engine sound of the GT86 and the squealing of its tires grew clearer as it emerged from the medical center's parking lot, drifting sideways into the skyscraper-surrounded roads of Bonifacio Global City. Successfully, Enzo and Sophia had escaped the hospital.
"What the hell? Are you a racer?" Sophia exclaimed in awe at who she thought was only a handsome, professional doctor.
Enzo chuckled, his eyes still focused on the road ahead. "No, but drifting is my favorite pastime when I'm out for holidays," he answered, guiding the car smoothly through the streets of Bonifacio Global City.
Sophia glanced at him, a mix of admiration and curiosity in her eyes. "I never would have guessed. You’re full of surprises, Enzo."
He smiled, a hint of playfulness in his expression. "Right now, we need to focus on getting to those coordinates."
The car sped through the nearly trafficked streets where many evacuees are already trying to flee from the chaos of the fast-spreading outbreak. Enzo skillfully maneuvered the vehicle, avoiding the vehicles on the road and running red lights,
"These people are already evacuating, but they don't know where to go or where will the quarantine zone will be." Enzo said.
Seeing the terrified faces of the citizens fleeing from the relentless virus, Sophia felt a pang of dread. The urgency in their eyes, the palpable fear in the air, all confirmed the gravity of the doctor’s words. Information, she now realized, wasn't just valuable—it was the lifeline, the critical element that could determine who would survive this devastating outbreak. In that moment, the truth hit her with full force: knowledge was priceless, and it held the key to saving lives in this harrowing crisis.
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As they reached Quezon City and approached the on-ramp to the North Luzon Expressway, Sophia’s thoughts drifted to their mission. “Do you think we’ll be able to set up a quarantine zone in time?”
Enzo’s expression grew serious. “We have to. The safety of countless people depends on it.” He glanced at her briefly. “We’re doing everything we can. Just remember that.”
Sophia nodded, gripping the freezer box tightly. “I know. It’s just... it’s a lot to take in.”
“We’ll make it,” Enzo assured her. “We have to.”
The car roared onto the expressway, heading towards their destination. The weight of their task hung heavy in the air, but in the midst of uncertainty, they found a sense of purpose.
As they drove, the cityscape gradually gave way to more open roads. Enzo maintained a steady speed, the tension in the car palpable. Every now and then, Sophia would glance at the GPS on Enzo’s phone, watching the distance to their destination slowly decrease. The sight of military personnel setting up the quarantine zone added to the surreal atmosphere.
Enzo's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. "We’re getting close," he said, his voice steady but strained.
Sophia nodded, her eyes fixed on the screen. "Just a few more kilometers."
The roads were eerily quiet, devoid of the usual hustle and bustle. The occasional military truck or checkpoint was a stark reminder of the seriousness of their situation. They passed a group of soldiers directing traffic, their expressions grim and focused.