"Outbreak Tablas Survivors:Mercy of Hope"

"Outbreak Tablas Survivors:Mercy of Hope"

by:

Virgilio F. De leon Jr.MD

(My name is not important. I was sent to learn about the survivors from the islands of Romblon. It is proving to be difficult as there are very few and among those few only a handful could be considered mentally stable enough to talk. Mercy was one of them.)

(She was the lone survivor from Hope Hospital, years after the events she still looks and sounds angry she agreed to this interview mainly to purge her soul of what she kept inside and to escape possible government litigation.I told her that the government is still much too busy rebuilding the entire country to even spare funds on a trial.Mercy looked at me intently and brushed off her wild graying her from her face before she started speaking.)

Most Doctors would be so happy to see so many patients. People were lining up and that usually meant a lot of Professional fees. A lot of lab works , a lot of confinements. Hope hospital being the finest hospital in Romblon was the first to receive the first cases of the "Yawas". Back then there was no name for them yet. Yawa seemed very appropriate. They were really a scourge.

At first our doctors were baffled with these strange patients. They were violent , they were attacking members of their own families.Old men who were suddenly stronger than their own children. Children who could take on adults.One of them had autopsied an unidentified man to find organs in a state of decay that could not happen within 24 hours. They were calling all of their counterparts in Manila to compare notes as to what was going on right before all communication was cut. This particular disease was spreading fast and it did not discriminate from the rich or the poor.

The Governor , God Bless his soul was the first major politician to be struck down.He was in his annual Medical Outreach in Sibuyan Island when his group was attacked. He had bitten 3 of his aides before he reached the hospital. A quarantine was set up for those coming in with the same symptoms.And the Governor was too far gone when he was isolated.sadly none of these 3 aides reported that they were bitten and were sent home. After that first day there were a lot more patients. All the beds in the 8 storey tower were filled and we have to convert the covered basketball courts and chapels into wards. Staff were no longer coming in and there were reports all over the island that the dead was rising and killing people. One of my colleagues even said that there were a lot of people watching too much Zombading movies. Imagine to our dismay when the actor Roderick Paulate was brought in to our hospital. He looked pale and feverish. He said that something bit him in the ocean when he fell off a banana boat.The deep bite mark on his foot was festering despite it being a few hours old. Roderick did not last long and my co-worker who made the zombading joke was the first person that the reanimated actor killed. Talk about irony right?

Did you know that when all of this was happening I wasn't even supposed to be here?  I had already resigned 2 weeks before and was supposed to spend time with my daughter and only grandchild in Manila? I never got to see them.

(Tears starts to form in the edges of Mercy's eyes when she said this fact. I handed her some tissues and waited for her to continue)

I was only in the hospital as a favor to my best friend , Angie. She said that they needed people and the hospital director was willing to overlook the red tape so I could work again. I should not have been there at all. When the Yawa came it was not through the front door. They did not knock down barricades or had to face gun fire. They were all with us in the wards. In the private rooms politicians turned on other visiting politicians , in the charity wards sons turned on parents , husbands bit wives or tore their visiting children apart.

The virus consumed everyone in the hospital in less than a day. My best friend and I ran toward the cafeteria. I knew the stock room boy as he was a playmate of my daughter when they were growing up. I know that we could hide there. We were in the 3rd floor when the chaos started. My friend and I were being chased by what seemed liked the whole ward. We ran toward the stairs and my friend ran into one of them. It grabbed her and tried to bite into her flesh , she struggled with it until they both toppled over. My friend landed on her right leg and twisted it in the landing down the next floor.

The Yawa were right behind me and in my age I had to jump several stairs to reach my friend.I picked her up and tried to support her so we could escape. The Yawa did not know how to use stairs so they were tumbling down the stairs at us. It was a comical sight but then they stood up again with broken heads at odd angles and the horror started again. It was then that I had to make the hardest decision of my life. My friend and I locked eyes and something silent was agreed on.Angie nodded her head once and tried to stand up.

(Tears were not streaming down Mercy's face , she refused the tissues I gave her and continued)

I ran down toward the cafeteria. As I reached the base of the stairs I could still hear Angie's screams of pain. I never heard her cry for help. She knew no one was coming. I had to fight my urge to go back and save her. I had to will myself to go on by telling myself that she was already gone. I justified in my mind that she sacrificed herself for me.

I reached the cafeteria and found it empty. The yawa had not reached the place. I hid in the storage room and barricaded it with sacks of rice or anything else that I could find inside.That first night in the storage room was the worst. The darkness made my other senses sharper. One or two of the Yawa would stumble into the place( or so I assumed) and they would bang on the door. It was hard even to breathe , I was startled by the constant banging and I still hear those in my dreams. The banging on the doors that would stop for a few seconds and just continue on for hours. I never got any sleep as those knocks kept on waking me. I did not know how long I had stayed in that room , only the roosters crowing from a distance would wake me up to be replaced by the sounds of undead moaning and the endless barrage of knocks on the doors at night.

One time I heard a frantic woman's voice screaming outside. I heard her running and knocking."I know someone is there , please open up."

I ignored it.

"Please Help me"  , the woman pleaded.

I closed my eyes.

"They are almost here."

I sat on my hands and bit my tongue to stop them from betraying my presence in this room. I sat there frozen. I know that I could have taken down the barrier. I knew that I could at least save this one life. My body felt disconnected from my brain that day. Despite her pleas , I never stood up.

I heard the woman running away and heard her screaming after a few minutes. She was not able to go far.

I survived in the store room but the night always made it worse. When I slept I remembered Angie's eyes. Her acceptance of her fate. When I was awake I heard that poor woman's voice over and over again. Please help me she would say in my ear. Her voice drowning out any other sound.

One day though the woman's voice was replaced by gun shots right outside the door and a mans booming voice.

 "Is anybody there? I am Lt. Forlales from the First Army Unit , is anyone in there?"

When I opened the door I might have looked like an insane person or simply just one of the Yawa because they trained all of their guns on me. I spoke and they called in a medic. Before I was carried out on the stretcher one of the soldiers pushed a faced down corpse that was blocking the way. When the body was flipped over I saw that it was Angie. She was one of the many who tried to get in to the storage room. She bore so many bite marks that I just had to turn my head away.

I should not have been there. She might have been alive if I did not go in that day. Yet I am here alive and Angie was dead. I should not have been there...

(At this point the attendants who were watching intently rushed to Mercy and held her down.One gave her a prepared sedative. Later these same attendants would tell me that after one of her stories Mercy had killed a doctor. She always became violent after the stories so she had to sedated and taken away)

(A few days after I left I received a phone call from the Facility doctor. He informed that Mercy had killed herself by hanging her bed sheets. I think the voices were too much for her to bear.I hope that wherever she is her torment was finally over.)