The smell of fresh coffee and toast, mixed with the metallic, putrid aroma seeping through the cracks in the curtains, was the perfume of the new reality. The presidential suite, once a sanctuary of luxury, was now a makeshift headquarters, its morning silence broken only by the clink of cutlery and the apprehensive whispers of the adults. The children, oblivious to the gravity of the conversation, played in a corner, their innocent laughter a cruel contrast to the images of New York in flames that crept through the windows. Thiago, seated at the table, observed the scene, every face, every gesture etched in his mind. The conversation with Harumi about Sofia had been a small detour, quickly circumvented, but the tension in the room was palpable. The world had turned upside down, and they were at the epicenter of the chaos.
He had spent the previous night vigilant, his mind a whirlwind of calculations and strategies, honing his skills and abilities through the System. Reloading the ammunition drums had been an almost meditative act, each shell fitted with a surgeon's precision. Now, with daybreak breaking and the reality of the hell outside confirmed with each smoke rising on the horizon, a new urgency took hold. He needed information. He needed to know how the world was reacting, how the people he had warned were faring.
Calling them, however, was risky. The sound of a ringing phone, of a loud conversation, could attract unwanted attention. Later, he had learned his lesson the hard way: noise was a lure, a macabre siren for the infected. Discretion was vital.
It was then that the idea popped into his mind, clear and crisp as a high-definition image. A WhatsApp group. Quiet, discreet, and capable of connecting the few people he'd tried to warn who weren't there with him. He'd collected the phone numbers of gun shop owners during his shopping spree, a precautionary instinct that now proved prophetic.
Thiago grabbed his smartphone, a high-end model that, for now, still worked with the hotel's data network. He created a new group, naming it generically: "Security Updates." He added the contacts he'd saved: the woman from the large sporting goods store; and the two other gun shop owners he'd visited. Three people, besides himself, who had received his "premonition" and who, he hoped, had acted.
He typed the first message, his fingers moving with a speed only urgency could dictate. He thought carefully about his words, avoiding any explicit mention of the apocalypse but conveying the gravity of the situation.
Thiago:How are you all? I hope you're safe. What are you seeing out there?
He hit "send" and felt a pang of anxiety. Were they the only ones to respond? Had they believed him? Or had the chaos already swallowed them?
Minutes dragged by, each one feeling like an eternity. The distant growl of the city seemed to intensify, the smell of smoke stronger. Lucas's parents argued in whispers about the lack of official news, while Gabriel tried to tune a shortwave radio, searching for any sign of life beyond the hotel. Sofia stood beside her mother, Harumi, both of them watching the red horizon through the curtains, their faces pale.
Then, Thiago's phone vibrated. A WhatsApp notification.
[Woman's Name - "Sports Store"]:Young man! It's [Woman's Name] from the sports store. For God's sake, you were right! It's hell out here! I... I managed to get my family out. We're in a makeshift shelter I set up. But it's chaos. The sounds... the screams... It's like a horror movie, but it's real!
Thiago's heart sank. She was scared, but alive. And she had acted.
Thiago:I'm glad you're safe. Stay calm. Don't make any noise. Sound attracts them. And conserve ammo. Headshots are essential. And what's the general situation where you are?
The crosstalk began to unfold, each message a fragment of a collapsing world.
[Name of the First Store Owner - "Classic Weapons"]:Thiago! It's [Name of First Store Owner] from Classic Weapons. I... I didn't entirely believe it, but something in your eyes... I took my family out of the city. We're in a cabin in the countryside. But the radio... the news is terrible. Entire cities in flames. And the... the dead are rising. It's like you said. They're slow, but numerous. And the noise... they come for the noise. Thank you, young man. You gave us a chance.
[Name of the Owner of the Third Store - "Tiro Certo"]:It's [Name of Third Shop Owner]. I didn't leave town. I stayed here. I thought it was overkill. Now... now I'm stuck in my shop. The streets are crowded. I saw one... one of them. Level 0 White. He was staggering, but when a car hit, he... he moved faster. And his eyes... empty. I have weapons. But I don't know what to do. I'm alone.
Thiago felt a pang of frustration and pity. He had warned. But not everyone could or wanted to believe it.
Thiago:[Name of Third Store Owner], don't make any noise. Don't use weapons unless absolutely necessary. They are attracted to sound. If you can, try to move to a higher floor. And stay away from the windows. They're not stupid. They learn. And they evolve.
As the messages arrived, Hiroshi, who was sitting at the coffee table, his eyes fixed on the apocalyptic landscape revealed through the gaps in the curtains, turned to Thiago. His voice was calm, but charged with profound wisdom. "Evolution is the key, young Thiago. I watched them from the window. The crystals on their foreheads. They change color. From white to pale green. And their movements become faster. More coordinated. What do you know about this?"
Thiago hesitated, but knew he could share vital information with Hiroshi directly, without revealing the System. "The crystals are the indicator of power, sir. The darker the color, the more dangerous the zombie. They evolve by eating human brains. They become faster, stronger, more aggressive. And over time, they develop special abilities. Keep your distance. Aim for the head. Always."
Thiago's phone vibrated again.
[Woman's Name - "Sports Store"]:Special abilities? Oh my God! I saw one... one that looked like a dog. But it was huge! And it ran really fast! It was attacking a group of survivors on the street. It was horrible! They didn't stand a chance!
Thiago looked at Hiroshi. "The animals have also been affected by the Plague, sir. They've evolved. Stay away from them. Some are zombies. Others are just mutant beasts. But they're all dangerous. And some of them can have very tough skin. Use higher-caliber weapons if you have them. Or sharp bladed weapons."
[Name of the First Store Owner - "Classic Weapons"]:I have some shotguns and rifles. And plenty of ammo, thanks to you, Thiago. I saw the smoke. The burning buildings. It's worse than anything I've ever seen. The city... is lost.
[Name of the Owner of the Third Store - "Tiro Certo"]:I'm on the second floor. The street is full of them. They're trying to break down the store doors. I have a Hatsan Escort DF12 TS. But I don't want to make any noise. What should I do?
Thiago:[Name of Third Store Owner], try to barricade the door. Use everything you have. Furniture, shelves. And if they break in, use the shotgun in a single shot. One shot to the head. Don't waste ammo. And if you can, try to find an escape route to the roof. It's your best chance.
Hiroshi, his eyes fixed on Thiago, continued the conversation, ignoring the phone. "What do you know about the Entity, Thiago? The one that deals with crystals? I've seen it in my old texts. A figure of light, appearing when chaos is at its most intense. It offers power, but at what cost?"
Thiago felt a shiver. Hiroshi was closer to the truth than he imagined. "The Entity is powerful, sir. And mysterious. Don't trust it. It offers items, but there is always a price. Use the crystals wisely. For what is essential, not for what is luxurious."
The WhatsApp conversation continued, a constant stream of questions and answers, of fear and determination. Thiago, from the relative comfort of his suite, acted as a clearinghouse of information, an oracle for those who had trusted his premonition. He described the different levels of zombies, the colors of the crystals, the way the Plague had distorted the world, without ever revealing the source of his knowledge. He spoke of the need for self-sufficiency, of finding safe havens, of conserving resources.
[Woman's Name - "Sports Store"]:The electricity is out in some areas. And the water. My shelter has a well, but I don't know how long it will last. Do you have any idea where we can find clean water in New York?
Thiago:Look for rainwater tanks on rooftops. Or water purification systems in commercial buildings. And portable water filters are essential. If you don't have them, use clean cloths to filter the water and then boil it. But water will soon be a serious problem.
[Name of the First Store Owner - "Classic Weapons"]:I have a diesel generator. And a few gallons of fuel. But I don't know how long it will last. Do you think the power will come back on?
Thiago:Don't count on it. The power grid is compromised. Energy will be a scarce resource. Use generators sparingly. And look into solar panels. They will be the energy source of the future.
The conversation stretched into the morning, each message a reminder of the new and brutal reality. Thiago felt tired, but the need to maintain communication, to guide those listening, was stronger. He knew the WhatsApp group was a fragile thread of hope, a thread connecting them in a world falling apart.
He looked at the breakfast table. The coffee cups were empty, the bread untouched. The family, though calmer, was still tense, their eyes fixed on the windows, absorbing the view of hell outside. Thiago felt the weight of responsibility, but also an unshakable determination. The night had been long, and dawn had brought hell. But this time, they would be ready. And they would not be alone. The race against time had reached its climax, and the next few hours would determine their fate. The WhatsApp group was more than a communication tool; it was a link, proof that humanity, even in its darkest moments, could still find a way to connect, to fight, to survive.