Tallahassee, United States
August 29, 2010
The first sunrise after the orphanage rescue felt different.
For the first time since the apocalypse began, the warehouse didn’t wake to chaos.
No one was screaming.
No one was running in desperation.
Fear was still present, but now it shared the space with something new.
Organization.
Jason woke before seven in the morning.
After putting on simple clothes and securing his pistol in its holster, he left his room.
Emily and Ethan were already sitting on the hallway floor, waiting for him.
The moment they saw him, both twins quickly stood.
“Good morning, Jason!” they said almost at the same time.
Jason smiled.
“You two wake up earlier than I do.”
Emily crossed her arms.
“We were waiting for you.”
Jason shook his head in amusement.
“Then let’s get some breakfast before my mother gets angry at me for keeping you waiting.”
The twins smiled and walked beside him toward the kitchen.
The smell of fresh coffee and warm bread filled the office building.
Jennifer, Angela, and Sofía were already preparing breakfast, while Donald spoke with Robert about the guard schedule.
People gradually began arriving.
Despite their exhausted faces, there was a strange sense of relief among them.
For the first time in days, everyone had managed to sleep somewhere protected.
After breakfast, each person naturally returned to their assigned duties.
Robert checked the guard post and organized the day’s shifts.
Donald, accompanied by Peter and Olivia, continued arranging the infirmary.
Dennis and Miguel spread tools across the yard as they prepared to reinforce the warehouse.
Jennifer performed another count of their food supplies, while Sofía gathered the children in one of the empty office rooms.
Jason walked around the warehouse, observing everything.
Not because he wanted to supervise people, but because he needed to understand where problems still remained.
When he passed the room where Sofía was organizing the children, he had an idea.
Jason quietly stepped inside.
The children immediately looked toward him.
Some still showed signs of fear whenever they saw him, while others—especially Emily and Ethan—smiled brightly.
Jason crouched until he was at their eye level.
“I have an important mission for all of you.”
The children’s eyes lit up.
A mission.
That sounded much better than an activity.
“Do you remember the Umbrella symbol?” Jason asked.
All of them nodded.
Claire picked up a sheet of paper containing the symbol Melody had drawn correctly.
Jason smiled.
“Great.”
He pointed toward the yard.
“We have several sets of white armor.”
Everyone looked through the window at the carefully stacked stormtrooper armor.
“I want you to paint that symbol on them.”
Noah raised his hand.
“Like soldiers?”
Jason smiled.
“Something like that.”
Emily looked at him curiously.
“Can we choose where to draw it?”
Jason thought for a few seconds.
“You can, but there needs to be at least one symbol on the chest and another on the back.
That way, it will be easy to recognize who belongs to Umbrella.”
The children exchanged excited looks.
Even some of those rescued from the orphanage appeared interested.
Sofía smiled discreetly.
She understood exactly what Jason was doing.
It wasn’t only painting.
It was therapy.
Jennifer appeared in the doorway.
“But don’t turn the armor into rainbows.”
Emily pouted.
“Aw…”
Jennifer laughed.
“The symbol can be red and white, but no painting the helmets pink.”
The children laughed.
So did Jason.
A short while later, Dennis found paint, brushes, and solvents stored inside one of the warehouse storage rooms.
There weren’t many colors available, but they had more than enough red paint.
The armor was moved into a covered section of the yard, and Sofía divided the children into small groups.
Melody drew the first symbol on each set of armor to serve as a guide.
Afterward, the children carefully filled it in.
Some painted crooked lines.
Others smeared the paint.
Emily was extremely focused.
Ethan tried to copy Melody’s design exactly.
Jason watched everything from a distance until James approached him.
“That was a good idea,” the psychologist said.
Jason looked away from the children.
“They needed to feel like they were helping.”
“And they are,” James replied with a smile.
He pointed toward the yard.
“Besides, a few years from now, they’ll look at that armor and remember that they helped build this place too.”
Jason remained silent.
He hadn’t thought that far ahead.
Perhaps James was right.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the warehouse, Robert began the group’s first training session.
He gathered Jimmy, Madson, Claire, Peter, and the other teenagers.
Wooden training knives had been placed on a table.
Robert crossed his arms.
“Before you learn how to fight, you’re going to learn how to survive.”
The training began with the basics: how to move silently, maintain distance from the dead, help a fallen companion, and retreat as a group.
Jason watched only the first few minutes before continuing his rounds.
Inside the infirmary, Donald carefully organized the medicine.
Peter recorded everything in a notebook, while Olivia separated the boxes.
When Jason entered, Donald handed him a sheet of paper.
“I’ve completed an initial inventory.”
Jason quickly looked over it.
They had enough medicine to handle minor emergencies, but there was also an extensive list of what they lacked.
Antibiotics.
IV fluids.
Insulin.
Anesthetics.
Surgical supplies.
Donald pointed toward the list.
“If someone is seriously injured…”
Jason finished the sentence for him.
“We’ll need to go to Central Hospital.”
Both of them knew that mission would happen sooner or later.
Throughout the rest of the day, Dennis and Miguel reinforced the main gate.
They installed additional steel plates, welded the weaker sections, and created a second internal locking mechanism.
The noise from the welding was unavoidable, but Jason allowed them to continue.
“It’s better to make noise today than lose the gate tomorrow.”
As the sun began to set, the children finished painting the first group of armor.
The suits were placed side by side, all of them displaying Umbrella’s red symbol.
No two were exactly alike.
Some had crooked lines.
Others were perfectly symmetrical.
One had a small smear in the corner.
Emily looked worried.
“It looks ugly…”
Jason knelt beside her.
“No.”
She looked at him.
“It looks different,” Jason explained.
He gently ran a hand over the helmet.
“That means someone made it with their own hands.”
Emily smiled again.
At nightfall, everyone gathered for dinner.
While they ate, Robert switched on the radio.
After several minutes of static, the National Guard’s voice returned.
“…The safe zone at Tallahassee State University remains operational…”
Several people released relieved breaths.
“…Patrols remain active…”
“…Avoid unnecessary travel…”
“…Remain inside your homes whenever possible…”
The transmission ended in a wash of static.
Donald continued staring at the radio for several seconds.
Melody discreetly took his hand.
Jason sat across the table, watching both of them.
The university was still holding.
That meant Eleanor still had a chance.
But it also meant time continued working against them.
Before going to sleep that night, Jason walked through the yard one more time.
The newly painted armor stood in a line beside the wall, every set bearing the Umbrella symbol.
He ran a hand over one of them and smiled faintly.
For the first time since everything began, the warehouse no longer felt like a makeshift shelter.
It felt like the beginning of something greater.
A community that was gradually learning how to survive without completely losing hope.
Tallahassee, United States
August 30–September 3, 2010
The following days settled into a routine that gradually transformed the old warehouse into something much greater than a simple hiding place.
Umbrella was beginning to take shape.
Every morning began the same way.
Before the sun had fully risen, Robert was already at the guard post overseeing the shift change.
With binoculars in his hands, he watched the streets surrounding the warehouse and recorded the movements of the dead in a notebook.
During the first few days, they seemed to wander without direction.
Jason soon noticed a pattern, however: whenever there was a distant noise, small groups changed course toward it.
After breakfast, Robert began the daily training session.
On the first day, they practiced only movement and teamwork.
On the second, they moved on to knives.
On the third, they began training with bows and crossbows.
Only after everyone demonstrated responsibility did Robert begin firearms training, always using unloaded weapons.
He repeated the same sentence every day.
“The most important weapon you have is your brain.
If you need to fire a gun, it means something has already gone wrong.”
Jimmy, Madson, Claire, and Peter showed the greatest improvement during that week.
Melody trained every day as well.
The memory of the first dead person she had been forced to kill still made her hands tremble at times, but her control improved with every shot.
Jason rarely participated in the complete training sessions.
He watched.
Analyzed.
Corrected small details whenever necessary.
His responsibilities lay elsewhere.
Every day, Jason walked through the warehouse and checked each department.
He always visited the kitchen first.
Jennifer had completely organized the pantry.
Every can had been counted, and every bottle of water had been recorded.
She calculated how long their supplies would last and adjusted the meals so no one would go hungry while ensuring nothing was wasted.
Angela and Sofía helped whenever they finished their other responsibilities.
Jennifer also naturally assumed responsibility for caring for the children rescued from the orphanage.
They still woke in terror during the night.
Some hid pieces of bread in their pockets because they were afraid of going hungry again.
Others refused to sleep without a light turned on.
Jennifer never scolded them.
She simply spoke with them, held them, and gradually helped the children understand that, at least within those walls, they were safe.
In the room next door, Sofía kept the small school running.
The lessons were simple.
Reading.
Writing.
Mathematics.
Drawing.
But the true objective wasn’t teaching academic subjects.
It was restoring a sense of routine to the children’s lives.
Noah never let go of his teddy bear.
Isabella enjoyed drawing flowers.
Emily and Ethan always finished their assignments quickly so they could go looking for Jason.
After painting the Umbrella symbol on the stormtrooper armor, the children began calling the suits “Guardian Armor.”
Jason pretended not to hear them.
But Melody always noticed the small smile he tried to hide.
On the other side of the warehouse, Donald gradually transformed the former medical room into a genuine infirmary.
Peter and Olivia worked beside him, cataloging every medication.
Each box was labeled.
Every piece of equipment was assigned a specific place.
At the end of the third day, Donald handed Jason a new list.
It was shorter than the first.
They had recovered some medicine during their patrols, but many essential supplies were still missing.
Especially antibiotics, anesthetics, insulin, and surgical materials.
Donald didn’t need to tell Jason where they would have to find those things.
They both knew.
Sooner or later, they would need to return to Central Hospital.
Meanwhile, Dennis and Miguel worked without rest.
More steel plates were added to the main gate, the hinges were reinforced, and movable barricades were built behind the entrance.
The office building’s lower windows were covered with welded bars.
A second guard post began taking shape on the opposite side of the wall.
The motorhome also underwent a complete inspection.
Engine.
Brakes.
Solar panels.
Water tanks.
Everything needed to function perfectly.
Dennis said the vehicle was Umbrella’s most valuable possession.
Jason agreed.
Regular patrols also began on September 1.
The teams were always small, never containing more than four people.
Their objectives were clear.
Map the streets.
Collect food.
Tools.
Fuel.
Medicine.
And observe.
Jason insisted that they avoid every unnecessary confrontation.
The dead could usually be avoided when spotted from a distance.
The living were not always so simple.
During one patrol, they discovered a small supermarket.
It had already been looted, but they still found several forgotten boxes inside a storage room in the back.
On another mission, they located a building-supply store that was almost untouched.
They returned with tools, electrical wiring, screws, nails, and bags of cement.
Everything was recorded on a large map attached to the conference-room wall.
Every street they traveled received a mark.
Every group of the dead was documented.
Locations containing food.
Pharmacies.
Gas stations.
Houses that appeared occupied.
Everything was carefully drawn.
Little by little, Jason began to know Tallahassee better than he ever had before.
During one patrol, however, they encountered another group of survivors.
Six armed men.
Watching from a distance, they saw the men break into a house.
A short while later, gunshots rang out.
Then screams.
Then silence.
Jason immediately ordered the team to retreat.
When they returned to the warehouse, Dennis questioned his decision.
“There might have been someone alive inside.”
Jason stared at the map for several seconds before calmly answering.
“Maybe.”
Silence filled the room.
“But if we had gone in without knowing how many of them there were…” Jason looked at everyone.
“Maybe we would have been next.”
No one responded.
That was the day James truly understood the burden Jason carried.
Every decision meant choosing who would have a chance to remain alive.
It wasn’t always possible to save everyone.
Every night after dinner, Robert switched on the radio.
It became almost a ritual.
Everyone gathered in the former conference room.
Donald always remained standing, with Melody beside him, while Jason listened in silence.
The situation at the safe zone worsened each day.
“…Western perimeter under attack…”
“…We require medical supplies…”
“…More civilians continue to arrive…”
“…Maintain distance from military roadblocks…”
“…Avoid traveling at night…”
The broadcasts continued offering hope.
But the exhaustion in the soldiers’ voices increased with every passing day.
At one point, a new message caught everyone’s attention.
“…Patrols remain authorized to use lethal force against armed individuals who pose a threat to military personnel…”
James looked toward Jason.
Jason merely nodded.
“I told you.”
Everyone turned toward him.
“The dead are still dangerous,” Jason said, taking a deep breath.
“But from now on, the living will be our greatest problem.”
No one disagreed.
The patrols had already confirmed it.
At the same time, small things began changing inside Umbrella.
The children started running through the yard again.
Emily and Ethan had practically adopted Jason as their older brother.
Whenever he returned from a mission, the twins were always the first to run toward the gate.
Jennifer began smiling occasionally.
Donald was finally able to sleep for more than three consecutive hours.
Even Dennis stopped complaining about everything…
At least for a few minutes.
James watched the transformation every day.
At first, he had found twenty-five frightened people sharing a shelter.
Now he saw a community.
Imperfect.
Filled with fear.
But united.
On the afternoon of September 3, Jason climbed to the guard post alone, carrying the binoculars and the updated city map.
When he looked toward the university, he noticed that the smoke had increased again.
Small groups of the dead slowly walked in that direction.
More than during the previous days.
Far more.
Robert climbed up several minutes later and observed the same scene.
“They’re still holding,” he said.
Jason nodded.
“But every day they hold…”
He lowered the binoculars.
“More of the dead gather around them.”
That night, the radio confirmed his suspicions.
“…The safe zone remains operational…”
The soldier’s voice sounded exhausted.
“…We are requesting reinforcements…”
Static.
“…The perimeters remain under pressure…”
Then gunfire erupted in the background.
Orders were shouted.
The signal returned for only a few seconds.
“…We will continue to hold…”
The transmission ended.
Jason remained staring at the silent radio.
He knew their resistance couldn’t last forever.
The only question was:
How much time remained before Tallahassee was completely abandoned?
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.