Chapter 8: A Spark of Humanity and the Legacy Left Behind
A terrifying silence swiftly enveloped Special Patient Room Number 713, as if devoured by darkness, after the final explosion and the strange flash of light had faded. The smells of burning, gunpowder, and the faint tang of blood still hung heavy in the air. Debris from the impact was strewn across the room; parts of the walls had collapsed, revealing twisted steel frames within.
Amorn, a petite night-shift nurse who had relied on every instinct to hide in a cramped linen closet at the end ofthe department throughout the savage assault, now slowly and with utmost trepidation, peeked out from behind the dented steel door. Her face was as pale as a peeled egg, her dark brown eyes wide as she stared down the dark, debris-filled corridor. Her mouth was so dry she found it difficult to swallow. Cold sweat trickled down her temples and palms. Although the gunfire and combat, which had sounded like a small battlefield, had ceased for nearly ten minutes, the silence that replaced it squeezed her heart, making it pound as if it would leap from her chest. It was a silence filled with loss and death.
Sirens from outside the hospital building continued their complex, mournful wail—ambulances, fire trucks, and most unnervingly, the blaring sirens of numerous police and military vehicles that thundered throughout the area, interspersed with announcements through megaphones. Though the words weren't entirely clear, she could discern the sharp commands and the severely abnormal situation. Amorn had a strong, bad premonition; this was no mere robbery or internal hospital dispute. Something much larger was undoubtedly happening.
Her old mobile phone in her nurse's uniform pocket had been vibrating incessantly for some time. With a still-trembling hand, Amorn retrieved it. The screen lit up with breaking news alerts from every news agency and a flood of messages in her colleagues' Line group chat:
'Urgent! Coordinated hospital attacks in Bangkok and major provinces nationwide! Children's departments targeted!' 'Government declares highest state of emergency! Orders evacuation of non-critical patients! Possible bioterrorism!' 'Anyone see armed men in black?! They're killing indiscriminately! Especially in newborn wards!' 'My friend at Hospital Z said they were asking for babies born today! They're really killing babies, everyone! Don't go out!'
Amorn's heart nearly stopped! "Newborn wards!" "Killing babies!" The information was far worse than anything she could have imagined. The nursing instinct ingrained in her to protect patients' lives, especially the fragile lives of newborns, screamed within her, compelling her to do something, even as the fear of death shouted at her to stay hidden.
"Someone… someone must have survived…" she whispered to herself, trembling, trying to summon all her courage. She forced her feet, heavy as if shackled, out of the safe storeroom and tiptoed down the dark corridor, filled with horrifying sights. Red emergency lights flickered rhythmically, illuminating blood splattered across walls and floors. The bodies of some colleagues she had just greeted a few hours ago now lay still and lifeless in pitiable states. Tears welled up in Amorn's eyes, unstoppable, but she quickly wiped them away. This was no time for grief or weakness.
She navigated through the wreckage until she reached a special patient room whose steel door had been buckled and blasted open by an explosion. The room's interior was almost completely destroyed; parts of the wall had crumbled. The faint smell of burning and gunpowder still lingered. But amidst this devastation… Amorn heard something!
A soft whimper… so faint it was barely audible… but to her, in her state of extreme alertness, it sounded as clear as a whisper from heaven.
Amorn slowly and cautiously stepped into the room, her heart pounding as if it would burst. She used the dim light from her mobile phone screen to guide her. And then… she saw it!
On the floor, covered in rubble and dust, amidst the dim gloom, lay the tiny form of an infant, curled up on a thin swaddling cloth, now thoroughly soiled. The baby was whimpering softly, trembling—whether from cold or fear, it was impossible to tell. But one thing was certain… he was still alive!
"Oh, God! A child is alive!" Amorn felt as if all her blood rushed to her face. She immediately ran towards the little infant, the thought of saving his life momentarily eclipsing all her fear.
She quickly knelt beside the small form. It was a baby boy, with delicate, lovely fair skin. Though his face was smudged with dust and tearstains, the round, wide eyes that had just opened to look at her were as clear as marbles. How had he survived amidst such fierce fighting and the utter destruction of the room? It was a clear miracle!
Amorn quickly examined the baby's body, finding no serious injuries, only minor abrasions and dust. She looked around frantically for the child's parents but found no one, only signs of a battle indicating a violent clash had occurred earlier. And it seemed… this child's parents might no longer be in this world.
Just as she was about to lift the baby, her eyes caught sight of a medium-sized leather bag, old but durable, tucked under the wreckage of a broken bedside table. It seemed utterly out of place in the surrounding destruction, as if someone had deliberately placed it there, hastily yet carefully.
With curiosity and a certain feeling that guided her, Amorn slowly reached out and picked up the bag. It had a fair bit of weight and was securely zipped. When she carefully unzipped it, what lay inside made her eyes widen in shock and confusion!
Inside were several passbooks for leading commercial banks in Thailand, each showing a balance of several million baht—totaling nearly ten million, perhaps more! Along with them were ATM cards tucked into each passbook. There was also a latest-model smartphone, its screen dark but in brand-new condition. And most importantly, a thick, sealed brown envelope. On the envelope, in hurried but beautiful handwriting, written with a dark blue pen, were the words:
"To the Kind-hearted Person, Please take care of 'Ar-Chin,' our son."
Amorn's heart trembled! "Ar-Chin"... so that was this child's name. And what was all this in the bag? Who exactly were his parents to possess such wealth and to have prepared everything as if they knew in advance what would happen?
She tried turning on the smartphone. It wasn't screen-locked. When she checked the various banking applications installed (for which a small note with default passwords was conveniently attached!), she found that the accounts indeed held money and online transactions could be made immediately! Moreover, in a small pocket of the bag, she found several pieces of gold jewelry: a large gold necklace suitable for a boy, several plain gold rings likely belonging to adults, and a small gold anklet for a baby. All were of fine gold, with a significant total weight!
The heavy footsteps of several pairs of boots and shouted commands in a language she didn't understand echoed from the corridor outside again! They hadn't left! Or perhaps it was state officials about to clear the area!
Amorn's face turned pale. She had to decide now! What should she do? The news she had just read on her phone replayed in her mind: "They're targeting infants!" "They're really killing babies!" If she carried this child out to the officials outside, who might be part of the group that had just committed mass murder in the infant ward, what would happen to him? Her suspicion and distrust of the situation outside were so high that she dared not risk this baby's life with anyone. Her instincts screamed that this child was a "target," and if she took him out the front way… he might not even survive until an ambulance.
But if she were to flee with the child herself… how could she? She was just a small nurse, unarmed, without connections, and surrounded by danger.
She looked at Ar-Chin's innocent face, staring up at her with wide, expectant eyes. There was no fear in those large, round eyes, only curiosity. It was like a silent question directed at her: "Will you help me?"
Tears of confusion and compassion streamed down Amorn's cheeks again. She clutched the leather bag to her chest as she made the decision to carefully scoop Ar-Chin into her arms. The letter addressed "To the Kind-hearted Person" felt like a final entrustment from this child's parents. And she… was the one who had found him.
"I don't know who you are… where you came from… or who your parents really were…" Amorn murmured, her voice trembling. "But I promise… I won't leave you here alone… We'll find a way to survive together… Ar-Chin…"
She quickly zipped up the leather bag, then awkwardly tried to sling it crossbody over her shoulder. She looked towards the large window, its glass completely shattered, leaving a wide opening. Outside was a narrow concrete ledge that extended to connect with the fire escape on the side of the building. It was the only way that offered any hope… however slim.