August 23rd, 2006
Somewhere in the Cordilleras. . .
Marco surveyed the campsite. There were tents pitched all over the clearing, Frankie had the fire going and was cooking rice. His cameraman had his F80 out and on a tripod, and was taking shots of the neighborhood of mountains.
And as for him, he had a map.
He didn’t understand why they were going around in circles. From the highway, they’d turned into the town nearest the foot of the easternmost mountain, and had been hiking for three days, looking for another town that could supposedly direct them to the town of the weirdlings. But it had been three days, and nothing but the mountains could be seen for miles on end.
The thing was that they couldn’t go back empty-handed. The network had paid loads for an expose on the weirdlings, and even if after-image photos and a spine-tingling bedside story was what all they had, they’d still have to come up with it just to keep the bigwigs happy. Not that it did much to cheer up Marco; he wouldn’t want to shoot a fake scene like something from the old Magandang Gabi, Bayan! Halloween specials if he could help it. Unfortunately, the object of their shoot proved to be more than just elusive.
It was almost as if it wasn’t there.
He brought out a notepad, checked the scribbled notes he’d written the previous week to look for the name of the ‘frontier’ town. Bagubagyo it said. Ten kilometres northwest from the highway. Then it was another hike, but after Bagubagyo, it was bound to be easier.
So what was keeping them from getting to that accursed town?
Maybe the weirdlings were hiding the frontier town in plain sight, with the strange, mystical powers they possessed. Yeah, right. Marco’s team was equipped with high-sensitivity travelling gear. They could get their fixed location via global positioning at a friggin desert. But here, they’ve been walking these past few, and the GPS told them that all they’ve been doing were walking around in circles.
They’d considered the possibility of a malfunction in the machine, some indeterminable factory defect. But Jodie had been carrying the machine around, and he swore to his mother’s grave that nothing had happened to it.
Marco sighed, and folded up his map. Someone coughed from the left.
“Bossing, we’ll need to make our way back if this goes on for two more days.” Fraknie had been looking over his shoulder at the map. “Our food supply won’t last another four more days, and they’re a bugger to lug around anyway.”
He sighed, and folded the map. “I know, I know. Putang-ina, wherever that town’s hiding is beyond me.” Together, the two went back to the campsite to sit beside the fire and wait for the rice to finish cooking.