They Know The End

Russell Magbanua

1:57 am

When I came to, I was in a dark room, all alone and surrounded by things I didn't recognize. The window allowed the nearby street light to shine into the room, revealing several medical stuff on the table.

I saw the shirt I was wearing ended on the top half of my bony thighs. I lifted it and saw gauze wrapped around my stomach.

I tried moving my jaw, much to the slight throbbing pain when I did. I touched my nose bridge and felt that it was heavily bandaged too.

I dropped it and looked around again. I deduced I was in someone's apartment. The taxi driver must have taken me to his house to get me treated.

I would've thanked him, but I had no time for that today.

I yawned and my body screamed for more resting time. But my mind didn't allow that.

Instead, I stood up and searched the room. I started with the dresser. For the lower part, I settled for some green shorts. I looked through the drawers and their surfaces for anything useful.

Once I felt that smooth leather, I knew I hit jackpot. I flipped it open and saw some cash poking out of a slit in the wallet. I stuffed some into the pocket of the shorts. I took a few coins with me too.

Then I moved to the pantry on the other side of the apartment. I made sure to move as quietly as possible. I opened the cabinet and wolfed down any snacks I could find. I never realized how hungry I was until I bit into some crunchy chips.

I stole some glasses of water and their canteen for good measure. I felt bad for the victim of this, but I steeled myself. This was how we worked: we snuck in, we stole, and we left without another word.

Before I did a final check, I was tempted to take a shower, but I decided against it. It was invasive enough to be here and it would be much more if I used their soap and shampoo.

Then, I double-checked on what I had.

Money? I shook the coins and took out the cash. Check.

Food? I clutched an eco-bag filled with the rest of the chichirya tightly. Check.

Water? I checked the bag for the water canteen. It had some cold water thanks to the dispenser. The thermos aspect of the container would keep it cold for a time. This was especially useful in the dreadfully hot climate here.

I opened the door and peeked for any unwanted guests. Luckily, there was no one on the hallway. I took the stairs down to the ground floor and realized that ahead was the lobby. A receptionist was bound to be on-duty.

I huffed and strode into the lobby. I kept my back straight, my head up, and my gaze straight on. When we couldn't find a sneaky exit, we would exit in the open confidently.

Just as I thought, they didn't bother to question me. Either that, or no one was there. I didn't look back to check, though.

I looked ahead and saw that I was in an unfamiliar place, probably far from where I was taken originally. A column of light posts ran from behind, but it stopped at the front. That must be the exit.

I walked to that end of the road, making sure the rocky road didn't make me trip. The road was also wide enough for cars to move in single-file, so I had to be careful when it happened.

Over the radio, I heard stories of kidnapping went like this. From experience and eavesdropping, stories of losing their gain happened like this. If you were a person walking in darkness and carrying some loot, plenty will find you interesting.

In the Philippines, thieves liked to steal from thieves.

Where the road ended was where modernity met tradition. The asphalt road bled into the bumpy path. I peeked left and right and saw no cars passing by. Then I looked up at the overpass overshadowing the sky.

Huh. I was not as far as I thought I was. It would only walk straight for a few minutes and I'd end up back where I started.

The cold wind gave me goosebumps. I looked to the right and saw buildings lining the sidewalk.

Maybe among those would be an internet cafe.

Sure enough, there was one. But it was closed.

I sighed to myself. This would be a long, long journey.

-

2:15 am

After keeping right for what seemed like forever, I found an internet cafe open 24/7. I never really thought of going here, even if I wanted to go check out the Internet really badly.

The neon light of the cafe almost blinded me. Through the window of the cafe, I saw people sitting in front of rows of computers, focused on whatever they were on their monitor. Most had headphones on and were muttering, cursing, and screaming in frustration.

I pushed open the glass door and the noise hit me like a truck. No wonder there were headphones with each stall. I walked to the reception.

He yawned when he saw me. I paid 30 pesos for the first hour.  "Moduwa ka?" he asked. Are you going to play?

"Dili ra," I replied. No, I won't.

He huffed. He pointed to the left. "Naa ra didto sa pinakalikod." I followed his finger and saw that those who were only accessing the Internet were at the very back of the cafe. It made sense, since this was primarily a gaming cafe.

I walked there, occasionally sneaking a peek at the people playing. I stopped when I saw someone play an FPS game with sleek graphics, something I had never seen before. And apparently the players there had special powers, because I saw spinning fields in different colors compared to the map colors.

I watched as the player's hand switched from a gun to a hand with a screen attached. Then, a second later, back to the gun.

I continued watching him play for a couple minutes and only stopped when his character died.

He must've sensed I was there because he took off his headphones and looked at me. "Hurot na'ng oras?" Is the hour over already? He must be referring to his time in the cafe.

"I don't know, maybe?" I replied.

He checked his pockets and mumbled to himself. "Hatagi ko'g kwarta bi." Give me money.

I raised an eyebrow. I didn't know if he would see it. "Ngano man?"

"Last na ni before ko mo-uli. Please." It will be my last.

I sighed to myself and handed him fifty pesos. "Mao ra nay naa nako," I lied, saying that this was all I had.

He smiled. "Lamat. Bayaran ra tika." I'll pay you back some time.

That made me smile thinly in return. Then, he stood up and went to the receptionist to pay for the extra hour.

I sat on a stall, wore the headphones, and booted up the computer. I opened the web browser and saw a shortcut on the homepage.

Last Friend.

I heard all about it. When I listened to the radio, I always ended up in the radio station that lets Deckers--people who will die--tell their story. Most of the time, they spent their last days with a Last Friend.

They met through the app, but demand made them create a website for those who couldn't access it through mobile.

Like me.

Last Friend was the first thing I thought of when I knew I was Decker. Maybe I could score a getaway from where I cane from.

I clicked the shortcut.