Tallahassee, United States
August 28, 2010
The day began early.
Even without alarm clocks, no one slept late anymore.
Fear had become the new clock governing that place.
Jason was one of the first to wake.
After briefly checking the guard post with Robert, he gathered everyone inside the office building’s former conference room.
There were twenty-five people living inside that warehouse.
Twenty-five lives depending on one another.
Jason placed a whiteboard at the front of the room, picked up a marker, and looked at everyone.
“Until now, we’ve survived by improvising,” he said.
After a brief pause, he added, “That ends today.”
Silence filled the room.
“If we want to be alive a month from now—or a year from now—we need to stop being a collection of people hiding inside a warehouse.”
Jason wrote a single word on the board:
SECURITY
Then he looked toward Robert.
“Dad.”
Robert merely nodded.
“You’ll be responsible for all security matters,” Jason continued.
“Guard shifts, training, and control of the weapons.
No one takes a weapon without going through you.”
Robert crossed his arms.
“Understood.”
Jason wrote another word:
MEDICAL
“Donald.”
The doctor raised his head.
“The infirmary is yours.
Peter and Olivia will work with you.”
Donald gave a small nod.
“I want a complete inventory of everything we have,” Jason continued.
“Then I want another list of everything we’re missing.
I need to know how long we can treat an injured person before our supplies run out.”
“You’ll have it by the end of the day,” Donald answered immediately.
Jason wrote again:
MAINTENANCE
“Dennis.
Miguel.”
Both men answered at the same time.
“Yes.”
“The motorhome is now our highest priority,” Jason said.
“After that, the generator.
Then reinforcing the gate.
I want a functioning workshop by tomorrow.”
Dennis smiled.
“Finally, someone who understands a mechanic.”
A few people laughed quietly.
Jason wrote another word:
FOOD
Jennifer raised her eyes.
“Mom, you’ll take charge of the kitchen, food inventory, and distribution.
No one takes anything without going through you.”
Jennifer looked surprised, but Jason continued.
“You know better than anyone how much food a child needs.”
A faint smile appeared on her face.
“All right.”
Beside her, Sofía raised one hand.
“I can help.”
Jason nodded.
“Actually…”
He wrote another heading:
CHILDREN
“Sofía, you’ll continue teaching.”
The teacher smiled.
Jason looked toward Jennifer.
“My mother will help whenever she isn’t needed in the kitchen.”
Then he turned toward James and added another word:
ORGANIZATION
James raised an eyebrow.
“Organization?”
Jason nodded.
“You understand people.
I want you to find out how everyone is doing—who is close to breaking, who can contribute more, and who needs someone to talk to.”
James smiled.
“I never imagined therapy would be part of the apocalypse.”
“Without people, there is no group,” Jason replied.
James nodded in agreement.
Jason then wrote the final heading:
SCAVENGING
The room became completely silent.
Everyone looked toward him.
Jason wrote only three names beneath it:
Jason
Robert
Melody
“No.”
Donald’s objection came immediately.
Jason had expected it.
Donald stood.
“My daughter is not going out on every mission.”
“Dad…” Melody began.
“We’ve already discussed this,” Donald said, taking a deep breath.
“The orphanage was one thing.
Going out every time is another.”
Jason decided to intervene.
“She isn’t going because she’s my girlfriend.”
Donald looked at him.
“She’s going because she’s the best crossbow shooter in the group,” Jason continued.
“She moves quietly, learns quickly, doesn’t panic, and thinks before acting.”
“She was essential yesterday.”
Donald looked toward his daughter before closing his eyes.
“Just promise me…”
Melody smiled faintly.
“I’ll come back.”
“No,” Donald replied.
“Promise me you’ll continue obeying Jason whenever he orders you to retreat.”
“I promise,” Melody said.
Jason then finished outlining the rules.
“No mission will happen without a plan.
None.
We’re not going outside to look for trouble.
We only leave when we have a clear objective.”
James silently watched the entire exchange.
The more he listened to Jason speak, the more he understood why the adults followed him.
Jason didn’t command people.
He organized them.
The entire morning was devoted to work.
Dennis and Miguel transformed one of the smaller buildings into a workshop.
Robert created four-hour guard shifts.
Jennifer organized the pantry.
Donald spent nearly three hours cataloging the medical supplies.
Sofía officially began running the school, while James moved from person to person, speaking with each of them.
For the first time since the outbreak began…
The warehouse resembled a small town.
The radio crackled again.
This time, however, it wasn’t an automated recording.
A tired, breathless male voice broke through the static.
“…This is the National Guard…
broadcasting to all survivors in the Tallahassee region…”
Everyone in the room fell silent.
The voice continued.
“…The safe zone established at Tallahassee State University remains operational…”
Donald quietly released the breath he had been holding.
Melody closed her eyes for a moment, relieved.
The relief didn’t last.
“…The perimeter remains under constant attack.
All civilians are advised to avoid unnecessary travel.”
The transmission failed for several seconds.
When it returned, the speaker sounded even more exhausted.
“…We have received reports of armed groups attacking civilian convoys along the highways leading into the city…”
James frowned.
“…Due to the increase in hostile activity and the infiltration of armed individuals attempting to breach the safe zone…”
The voice paused briefly.
Then came the sentence that made the entire room freeze.
“…All National Guard patrols are authorized to regard any armed individual found outside the safe-zone perimeter as a potential threat.”
Robert immediately looked toward Jason.
The transmission continued.
“…Anyone who fails to comply with immediate orders to surrender…”
Static interrupted the message.
“…Military personnel are authorized to use lethal force.”
The silence became absolute.
Even Donald appeared shocked.
The voice added one final explanation.
“…This measure has been adopted following multiple confrontations with looters and criminal groups who attacked military personnel, stole supplies, and attempted to seize National Guard vehicles.”
Static swallowed the transmission again.
Before the signal disappeared completely, they managed to hear a few final fragments.
“…We continue to hold our position…”
“…We repeat…”
“…The safe zone remains operational…”
The broadcast ended in a wash of static.
No one spoke for several seconds.
James was the first to break the silence.
“So they’re still holding.”
Jason slowly nodded.
“They are.”
Robert crossed his arms.
“But this changes everything.”
Donald looked at Jason.
“What do you mean?”
“If we leave the warehouse armed for any mission,” Jason answered calmly, gesturing toward the weapons resting against the wall, “the National Guard won’t see us as survivors.
They’ll see us as possible looters.”
Melody understood immediately.
“Which means that before the dead can reach us, we might be killed by the soldiers.”
Jason nodded.
“Exactly.”
The room fell silent again.
They had just discovered that surviving outside the safe zone meant facing two threats.
The dead.
And the living.
The silence lingered for several more seconds.
No one seemed to know what to say.
Jason finally spoke.
“This confirms something.”
Everyone turned toward him.
Jason placed both hands on the table.
“Until a few days ago, I believed the dead would be our greatest problem.”
He slowly shook his head.
“I was wrong.”
Donald frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Jason looked at everyone before answering.
“The dead are predictable.
They follow noise.
They don’t plan, lie, betray anyone, or set ambushes.”
He paused briefly.
“People do.”
The room remained silent.
“What we just heard proves it,” Jason continued.
“The National Guard didn’t make that decision because the dead attacked their convoys. Get faster updates on g.com.
They made it because living people attacked soldiers, stole supplies, and killed others to reach the safe zone first.”
James crossed his arms, carefully following Jason’s reasoning.
“From now on, the dead will remain a threat,” Jason said.
“But the living will be the ones who make the cruelest decisions.”
He took a deep breath.
“When food runs out, when medicine runs out, and when someone has a family to protect, some people will steal.
Others will kill.
Some will do absolutely anything to survive.”
Jason looked toward Robert.
“That’s why we need to be extremely careful whenever we encounter other survivors.”
Donald remained thoughtful.
James slowly nodded.
“The collapse of civilization doesn’t turn everyone into monsters.
But it removes the consequences for those who already were.”
Jason nodded.
“Exactly.”
His gaze moved across everyone in the room.
“Never forget one thing.”
Jason pointed toward the warehouse walls.
“The dead want to devour our bodies.”
Then he pointed toward his own chest.
“But the living will try to take our hope, our resources, and our humanity.”
The room fell silent once again.
For the first time since the apocalypse began, everyone understood that survival would require them to distrust not only the things wandering outside…
But also those still capable of thought.
After several minutes of silence, Jason picked up the marker again.
He looked at the whiteboard and then at everyone gathered in the room.
“There’s one more thing.”
James raised an eyebrow.
“Our group needs a name.”
Several people exchanged confused looks.
Dennis was the first to respond.
“A name?”
Jason nodded.
“If we continue growing, it’s going to sound strange to call ourselves ‘the people from the warehouse’ or ‘Jason’s group.’ We need an identity.”
Robert crossed his arms.
“That makes sense.”
Donald agreed.
“It could also make it easier to identify ourselves over the radio in the future.”
Jason thought for several seconds before writing a single word on the board:
UMBRELLA
The room fell silent.
Dennis read it aloud.
“Umbrella…”
James gave a faint smile.
“As in a rain umbrella?”
Jason smiled slightly.
“Exactly.”
He drew a circle and began adding several lines inside it.
The result…
Was nowhere close to a good drawing.
When Jason finished, he turned the board toward the group.
It vaguely resembled an umbrella divided into sections, but the lines were crooked, the proportions were uneven, and none of the sections matched.
Melody stared at the drawing for several seconds before she could no longer hold back her laughter.
“Jason…”
He looked at her.
“What?”
She pointed toward the board.
“Drawing really isn’t one of your strengths.”
Several people laughed quietly.
Even Robert shook his head while suppressing a smile.
Dennis studied it before commenting, “If I didn’t know it was supposed to be an umbrella, I would’ve guessed it was a pizza someone dropped on the floor.”
The laughter grew louder.
Jason pretended to be offended.
“You’re all very funny today.”
Melody approached the board and took the marker from his hand.
“Give me that before you traumatize the children.”
With only a few strokes, she redrew the symbol in a much more symmetrical form.
Now it actually resembled a stylized umbrella.
Jason studied it.
“Much better.”
“I know,” Melody replied as she returned the marker.
James brought the conversation back to the name.
“But why Umbrella?”
Jason shrugged.
“An umbrella protects people from the rain.”
He looked around the room.
“That’s what I want this group to become.
A shelter.
A place where people can find protection when everything else is falling apart.”
Jennifer smiled faintly.
Donald nodded.
The explanation was simple.
Almost beautiful.
No one in the room had any reason to suspect that the name held another meaning.
Only Melody cast a curious glance toward Jason.
She clearly remembered him researching that name in the school library several days earlier.
At the time, they hadn’t found anything except a company that manufactured umbrellas.
Even so, she chose not to mention it.
“So…” Dennis said, crossing his arms.
“We’re Umbrella.”
Jason nodded.
“We’re Umbrella.”
One by one, the others agreed.
Without realizing it, they had just given an identity to the group that would attempt to survive the end of the world.
And somewhere in Jason’s mind, the irony of the choice drew an almost imperceptible smile from him.
If there was one name he had never imagined using to protect people during a zombie apocalypse…
It was that one.
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.