Tallahassee, United States
11:08 p.m.
— August 24, 2010
It was already past eleven at night when the small convoy traveled along one of the avenues near Central Hospital.
The newly renovated motorhome led the way, driven by Dennis, while the other vehicles followed close behind, loaded with tools, food, weapons, clothes, and everything they had managed to gather over the past few days.
Traffic was unusually heavy for that hour.
Ambulances sped through the streets, police cruisers passed with their sirens blaring, and people hurried along the sidewalks, glancing from side to side as though searching for answers.
Inside the motorhome, silence prevailed.
Melody stared through the window.
Ever since leaving the hospital that morning, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her mother.
Jason noticed and, without taking his eyes off the road ahead, spoke in a calm voice.
“She’ll be all right.”
Melody turned toward him, and Jason discreetly pointed toward the hospital, which was already visible in the distance.
“Look.”
Military trucks, police cruisers, and dozens of armed men surrounded the building, protecting every entrance.
Floodlights illuminated the gates, while makeshift barricades prevented vehicles from getting through.
“There are police officers, guards, and soldiers everywhere,” Jason said, attempting a reassuring smile.
“Your mother is probably in one of the safest places in the city.”
It was an attempt to comfort her.
Melody took a deep breath, wanting to believe him, but then she noticed something strange.
“Jason…” She pointed toward the main entrance.
A large crowd had gathered outside the hospital.
Men, women, and elderly people packed the area.
Some carried injured relatives in their arms, while others shouted desperately, begging for medical attention.
Even from a distance, the chaos was unmistakable.
The guards kept their weapons pointed toward the ground as they ordered everyone to move back, but no one obeyed.
More people continued to arrive, pushing against one another and trying to force their way through the barriers.
“They aren’t letting anyone inside…” Madson murmured.
James narrowed his eyes.
“No…” His voice was filled with concern.
“They’re trying to contain something.”
Then it happened.
A man emerged from the middle of the crowd, stumbling as he ran.
His clothes were covered in blood, and a deep bite wound marked his arm.
He completely ignored the soldiers’ warnings and continued running toward the gate.
“Stop!” one of the soldiers shouted as he raised his rifle.
“Stop right now!”
The man didn’t slow down.
He kept advancing, even after another warning shot echoed above the crowd.
Jason tightened his grip.
He already knew what was about to happen.
“No…” Melody whispered.
The commanding officer raised his hand.
“Fire!”
Gunshots tore through the night.
The man was struck several times in the chest and collapsed only a few yards from the barricade.
Inside the motorhome, no one said a word.
Jimmy had gone completely pale, Madson covered her mouth with both hands, and Angela clung to her husband’s arm, searching for some comfort.
James remained motionless, staring at the scene in disbelief.
The psychologist who, only days earlier, had still believed everything could be brought under control had just watched armed men shoot a civilian in front of the hospital.
Dennis gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
“My God…” he murmured, his voice barely audible.
Melody continued staring through the window as tears began to run silently down her face.
Her mother was behind those walls.
Jason reached over and took her hand.
“She’s still alive,” he said quietly.
“As long as soldiers are protecting that place, your mother is safer there than anywhere else in the city.”
Melody merely nodded, although her eyes remained fixed on the hospital.
As the convoy slowly continued along the avenue, Jason cast one last glance toward the building.
He knew what they had witnessed wasn’t an isolated incident or an abuse of authority.
It was the first visible sign that the government was losing control.
That night, there were still barricades.
There were still soldiers.
There were still orders.
But Jason knew that when the sun rose the following morning, all of it would begin to crumble.
It was already past eleven thirty when the convoy finally reached the warehouse.
As soon as the headlights illuminated the steel gate, it slowly began to open.
Robert was already waiting for them.
When the motorhome entered, Robert signaled for the other vehicles to park inside the yard.
As soon as the last car passed through, the gate was closed and locked.
For the first time that day, everyone breathed a little easier.
Jason climbed out of the motorhome and was greeted by his father.
“Did everything go all right?” Robert asked.
Jason took a few seconds to answer.
“More or less.”
Everyone gathered in the center of the warehouse, where Jason introduced Dennis, Jimmy, James, Angela, and Madson to Jennifer.
After the introductions, he told them everything that had happened during the drive: the crowd outside Central Hospital, the soldiers trying to hold people back, the man who had ignored their orders, and the gunfire.
Silence filled the warehouse.
“I heard it too,” Robert said after taking a deep breath.
Everyone looked at him.
“While we were bringing the rest of the supplies here, we could hear gunshots every so often coming from the direction of the hospital.
There weren’t many, but there were enough to show that something is happening.”
No one responded, so Robert decided to change the subject.
“We spent the afternoon organizing the warehouse.” He pointed toward the office structure built into the corner of the building.
“We turned the offices into sleeping quarters.
They aren’t pretty, but each family will have a place to sleep.”
Jason nodded.
It was already more than he had expected.
“We also found a surprise,” Robert continued with a faint smile.
“There was a hidden door behind a cabinet in the former owner’s office.
It led to a basement.”
Dennis raised his eyebrows.
“A basement?”
“It’s small, has no windows, and has a steel door.” Robert pointed toward the office building.
“We stored all the weapons, ammunition, and medicine down there.
Jason nodded in approval.
“That was a good idea.”
Before the conversation could continue, Donald called for everyone’s attention.
“I also want to introduce a few people.”
Three families stepped forward.
“After I decided to believe Jason, I contacted a few people I trust,” Donald explained, pausing briefly.
“They all worked with me at Central Hospital before we were separated.”
Donald gestured toward the first man.
“This is Peter Williams.”
Peter was a tall, slender Black man of approximately twenty-six, with understated glasses and a calm expression.
Beside him stood his younger sister, Claire Williams, a fifteen-year-old girl with curly hair tied back in a ponytail.
“Peter was a surgical technologist,” Donald explained.
“He knows practically every piece of equipment found in an operating room.”
Donald then introduced the second man.
“This is Ethan Brooks.”
Ethan was around thirty years old, with short brown hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and a strong build.
Beside him stood his wife, Olivia Brooks, a nurse, and their five-year-old son, Noah Brooks.
“Ethan worked in radiology, and Olivia is a nurse.
They both have experience providing emergency care.”
Finally, Donald introduced the last man.
“Miguel Álvarez.”
Miguel was a broad-built Hispanic man whose hands were marked by small cuts, the result of years spent maintaining hospital equipment.
Beside him stood his wife, Sofía Álvarez, a teacher, and their eight-year-old daughter, Isabella Álvarez.
“If any piece of equipment at the hospital broke down, Miguel was the one who repaired it,” Donald said.
Dennis smiled for the first time.
“Then the two of us are going to get along very well.”
Miguel shook his hand.
“I hope so.”
Jason discreetly looked toward Donald.
“What about Dr.
Eleanor?”
Donald lowered his head for a moment.
“I haven’t been able to contact her since the hospital was sealed off.” Concern weighed heavily in his voice.
“I don’t know whether she’s all right.
I don’t even know whether she can still get out of there.”
Silence filled the warehouse.
Jason discreetly clenched his fists.
The answer didn’t surprise him, but it reinforced a decision he had already made.
As soon as an opportunity presented itself, he would return to Central Hospital and get Eleanor out.
The people Donald had brought watched everything carefully.
As they unloaded the last belongings from the cars, it was natural for them to assume that Robert was the leader of the group.
He was the oldest, a former soldier, and Jason’s father.
His posture conveyed confidence and authority, and no one questioned that impression.
However, that certainty began to fade during the introductions.
Donald made a point of introducing each of his former assistants individually, but whenever he finished, he turned toward Jason.
“He was the one who convinced us.”
“The decisions are his.”
“If you have any questions, talk to Jason.”
Peter noticed.
Miguel noticed as well.
Even Ethan cast a discreet glance toward the fifteen-year-old boy.
None of them said anything, but they all began watching him more closely.
Robert then called everyone into the office building.
The former administrative structure was much larger than it appeared from the outside, and as soon as they entered, Robert began guiding them through the hallways.
“This building has twenty individual rooms,” he explained, pointing toward the main corridor.
“Choose any room that is empty.
Each family can occupy one.”
People began opening some of the doors.
The rooms were simple, containing only a bed, a wardrobe, and a desk.
They weren’t large, but they would serve their purpose.
“The bathrooms are down that hallway,” Robert continued, pointing to the right.
“The former employee break room is now our kitchen.”
The room still contained a refrigerator, a sink, an industrial stove, and several tables.
Farther down the hallway, Robert opened another door.
“This used to be the company’s conference room.
From now on, this is where we’ll decide our next steps.”
Finally, he showed them a room at the back of the building.
Several makeshift hospital beds had already been assembled, and boxes of medicine filled some of the shelves.
“We’re turning this room into an infirmary.”
Donald nodded approvingly.
“It will work very well.”
After the brief tour, everyone returned to the main corridor, and the families began choosing their rooms.
As he watched them move around, James Carter slowly approached Robert.
The psychologist’s expression remained calm, but his eyes analyzed every detail.
“Robert…” James began casually.
“Is the manager’s office already occupied?”
Robert looked at him for a moment.
The question seemed simple, but he immediately understood the real reason behind it.
James didn’t want to know which room was the largest.
He wanted to discover who truly commanded the group.
“Yes,” Robert answered without hesitation.
James smiled faintly.
It was exactly the answer he had expected.
“I assume it’s yours.”
Robert shook his head.
“No.” He pointed toward the door at the end of the hallway.
“That room belongs to Jason.
Only him.”
James’s eyebrows rose slightly.
“All of us will share rooms with our families, including me,” Robert continued, pointing toward the door immediately to the right of the manager’s office.
“My room is that one.”
Without saying anything, he led Melody toward the room located on the left side of Jason’s, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
James watched the scene in silence.
Robert.
Donald.
The two most experienced adults in the group.
Both of them treated it as perfectly normal that every important decision revolved around a fifteen-year-old boy.
Robert noticed the psychologist’s expression.
Before entering his own room, he said only one thing.
“You’ll understand.”
Then he disappeared behind the door.
James remained standing in the hallway for several seconds.
His training as a psychologist told him the situation was unusual, perhaps even irresponsible.
Entrusting the leadership of an entire group to a fifteen-year-old seemed insane.
But at the same time, none of the adults showed any doubt.
Not Robert.
Not Donald.
Not Dennis.
They all trusted him.
James looked toward the manager’s office.
Behind that door was a fifteen-year-old boy, and whether James liked the idea or not, from that night onward, that boy was his leader.
As soon as Jason entered his room, he closed the door and took a deep breath.
For the first time that day, he was alone.
He looked around.
The former manager’s office was larger than the other rooms and contained a twin bed, an office desk, a metal wardrobe, and, behind the old desk, the door leading to the basement.
Jason walked toward it and turned the handle.
The hinges creaked softly as the door opened, revealing a narrow staircase descending underground.
He switched on the light.
The basement was larger than he had imagined.
Shelves covered almost every wall.
Dozens of boxes of food and cases of water were stacked on one side, while the weapons and ammunition Robert had purchased at the shooting range rested on the other.
Farther back were the medicines Donald had organized, along with several pieces of medical equipment brought from the hospital by his former assistants.
Jason slowly walked between the shelves.
Everything there represented months of planning.
Money.
Time.
Sacrifices.
And yet, it seemed like very little compared to what was about to happen.
His gaze stopped on the newly delivered boxes.
The armor.
Jason opened one of them and removed one of the modified costumes.
He ran a hand over the reinforced plates and considered wearing one of the bite-resistant wetsuits underneath it, but quickly abandoned the idea.
The weather was still too hot, and for a simple watch shift, the armor would be enough.
He put on the protective suit and calmly adjusted each piece before walking toward the rack where the bows were stored.
He selected his own and picked up a quiver containing several arrows.
When Jason returned to his room, he found his pistol lying on the bed with its holster beside it.
Robert had probably left them there while Jason was unloading the last of the supplies.
Jason smiled faintly, fastened the holster around his waist, checked the magazine, and secured the weapon.
After taking a deep breath, he left the room.
Without drawing anyone’s attention, Jason crossed the warehouse yard and climbed the small staircase leading to the guard post built above the main wall.
From there, he could see much of the street.
The city lights still glowed in the distance, but fewer cars were moving.
There were fewer people.
Less life.
Jason sat in the old wooden chair and rested the bow beside him before turning his attention toward the horizon.
The wind blew softly, and for several minutes, everything remained silent.
Then he heard footsteps on the stairs.
Instinctively, Jason reached for his pistol, but relaxed when he recognized the voice.
“Stormtrooper…”
Melody appeared in the guard post doorway and looked Jason up and down.
The reinforced white armor contrasted sharply with the bow resting beside him, and she let out a quiet laugh.
“Seriously?”
Jason chuckled and merely shrugged, as though saying it had seemed like a good idea at the time.
“You look ridiculous,” Melody said.
“I know.” Jason smiled.
“But I’m difficult-to-bite ridiculous.”
Melody smiled for the first time since they had left the hospital.
She stepped inside the guard post and closed the small door behind her.
Jason pulled out another chair, but Melody shook her head.
Instead, she moved closer to him.
Jason opened a small space between his arms, and she sat sideways on his lap as naturally as though it were the place where she felt safest.
Jason wrapped one arm around her waist.
“Having trouble sleeping?” he asked quietly.
Melody gave a small nod.
Jason didn’t press her.
He began gently stroking her hair, his fingers slowly moving through the brown strands.
Melody closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest.
For several long minutes, neither of them said a word.
The silence wasn’t uncomfortable.
Quite the opposite.
At that moment, words were unnecessary.
Melody simply listened to the steady beating of Jason’s heart while he kept his eyes fixed on the street beyond the wall.
The early-morning wind gently moved their hair, and below them, the warehouse remained silent.
For the first time since everything had begun, all those families were sleeping beneath the same roof.
Jason remained awake, wearing improvised armor, with a bow resting beside his chair and a pistol secured at his waist.
He watched the city that, only a few hours later, would cease to exist as they knew it.
Without realizing it, Melody eventually fell asleep in his arms.
Jason merely smiled.
He didn’t move, afraid of waking her.
He remained there.
Watching.
Waiting.
As the clock slowly moved toward the day that would change their lives forever.
I’m using AI to translate this story.
English is not my native language.
If you would prefer to read it without an AI translation, you can find the original Portuguese version on this same profile.