jeff dizon shook the can of spray paint. red. he didn’t know if it would even show. almost everything was splattered with red nowadays.

behind him, carla jimenez coughed. his girlfriend wanted him to get a move on. they were on a mission from the refugee camp to mark the campus. to warn people not to enter. university of the philippines: los baños was, for all intents and purposes, overrun.

their other two companions, jose tatlonghari and ricardo samartino, had helped him erect a wooden signpost. if they hadn’t run out of spray paint at the colegio, he wouldn’t have had to do the spraying now.

“hurry up, jeff.”

jose and ricardo had scouted the place for other things they could use. but the rule was that they wouldn’t enter the campus proper. they would just check out the administration building, and get back to jeff and carla.

jeff started to spray the message: “keep out, campus overrun.” but after the first letter ‘p,’ the can ran out of paint.

“well that was a waste of time,” carla harrumphed.

“quiet, carla.” jeff felt a chill run down the spine. he heard something moaning. “can you radio jose and ricardo to see if they’re all right.”

“all right.” carla fiddled with the radio’s power switch. “jose? ricardo? guys, can you hear me?”

and jeff felt the chill again. because this time, he could hear the radio-version of carla’s message very clearly. he turned, and saw jose approaching them. there was something wrong with the way he was walking.

“carla, i think you should run.”

“what?” carla turned to jeff, and screamed. jeff hadn’t noticed but ricardo was already beside him. how he was able to sneak up, jeff didn’t know. the important thing was, jeff had been able to dodge the swipe ricardo attempted.

jeff used the spent can of spray paint to bash in ricardo’s head. it was soft. the head, not the can. blood splattered on the ground. but jose, even with his now-slow shamble, had already reached them.

“jeff, behind you!” jeff had been expecting the lunge. jose toppled with his arms wide open, hoping to catch jeff. jose was single-minded in his pursuit of jeff—and he made another attempt at catching jeff. this time, with mouth open.

jeff backed up, and threw the can of spray paint towards jose’s forehead. it made a thumping sound, took off a bit of jose’s skin, and dropped to the ground. now jeff was weaponless.

“jeff, use the placard! the signpost!” carla screamed at him. jeff obliged. he grabbed the incomplete sign; a sudden shot of adrenaline enabling him to rip it off the ground, and swing with everything he’s got.

the last part wasn’t hard; jeff just let momentum take its course. the wooden placard managed to sever jose’s head from his body. up to a point anyway. the head was still hanging from the late jose’s neck through a few inches of flesh.

“that’s disgusting.”

jeff looked at the wooden placard he was holding, surprised at what he was able to do. carla motioned for him to hurry, so they could leave. but jeff saw the potential in the drying blood on the plywood.

“i found our replacement paint, carla.” his friend understood quickly. and completely.

jeff dipped two fingers on the coagulating blood of the body formerly known as jose. it came out bloody.

jeff looked at his sign, and how the dark brown of dried blood contrasted well to the cleaned piece of plywood. it was time to write the message.