November 20, 2026. Command Office, Second Army Infantry Division.
The digital clock embedded above the map board read 23:00 hours, and the flickering, sickly yellow fluorescent light of the Second Army Infantry Division Command Office cast long, warped shadows across the tight faces of the officers.
The air in the room was heavy, saturated with the smell of burnt coffee, cold sweat, and the stale scent of printed paper. Outside, the constant noise of communications—a low, broken murmur of static and urgent commands—was the only reminder that the world had, in fact, collapsed, and they were the last pillars attempting to hold up the debris.
Bryan, First Lieutenant, stood at attention to the right of Colonel Rogers. His uniform, though wrinkled by the day's tension, still maintained a crispness that contrasted sharply with the palpable fatigue in the room.
Bryan watched Colonel Rogers, a man who, even under the cloak of total chaos, clung to the facade of control. Rogers' face was a mask of impassivity, but Bryan, who had known him for years, noticed the slight tremor at the edge of his lower lip and the way his knuckles gripped the surface of the table—an anchor in the middle of the storm.
"Let's recap, gentlemen," Rogers said, his deep voice resonating with an authority that rang almost hollow. "Contact with the Capital is intermittent and chaotic. We've lost key figures. For all practical purposes, we have been designated as the independent operational command for our zone until further notice. The ground situation is now solely our responsibility."
A heavy silence fell over the room. Everyone knew what the "loss of key figures" meant: decapitation in the chain of command. Panic in the higher echelons had manifested as contradictory orders throughout the afternoon, but now, the silence was worse, signifying a terrifying freedom.
The Lieutenant in charge of Communications, a young man with glasses and deep dark circles, cleared his throat and stood up, holding a folder of reports that seemed to weigh a ton.
"Colonel, with the new directive for discretionary authority issued at 20:30, the situation at the most critical camps has evolved, though not necessarily improved. Reports are itinerant, dependent on brief signal windows."
Bryan felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He knew the bad news was coming, and with every mention of Camp 3, he would think of Alex.
The Communications Officer opened the folder, and the dry sound of rustling paper echoed.
"Starting with Camp Eight," the officer began in a monotone voice, as if reading an obituary. "We confirm total abandonment. The officer in charge, Major Dávila, was relieved of his command at 19:00 hours for malpractice in the initial handling of biological risks. This triggered panic and the loss of containment during peak hours."
Bryan remembered the 20:00 report: total chaos.
"At 20:30, the containment unit requested from our Division had to halt due to a precipitous exit of vehicles on the city's periphery, preventing them from reaching the base. The last contact with C-8 was at 21:00, confirming the functional units' withdrawal to the city outskirts, awaiting aerial provisions and new orders. Since then, total silence. We assume the loss of all vital infrastructure in that area."
Colonel Rogers nodded with glacial slowness. A Lieutenant dared to mutter a curse under his breath.
"Camp Five," the officer continued. "It was on the verge of total collapse at nightfall, losing control due to contained subjects escaping in previous days. They managed a tactical retreat. The implementation of the curfew at 20:00, however, was ineffective. The situation in their city was too dense. Street chaos and unrepressed protests translated directly into a surge of the undead, overwhelming their security perimeters."
"Current status?" Bryan asked, keeping his voice steady.
"The last report was at 22:00, Lieutenant. They report that the main camp is partially compromised, and several smaller emergency camps have been established in different sectors of the city, sacrificing centralization for local survival. They have lost contact with several major hospitals and, alarmingly, with some police stations, indicating that even civilian strongholds are being overrun. The risk of incommunicado units is high."
Rogers' face, already tense, tightened further.
"Camp Three," the officer said, and Bryan felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. This was his camp, the stadium, the city refuge where Alex lived. "They managed to form containment perimeters against external chaos around 20:00. However, the problem was twofold: internal protests and infiltration."
The officer paused uncomfortably.
"The growing number of zombies in the control cordons, combined with several cases of reanimation within the perimeter itself, forced a total withdrawal of the outer ring at 21:15. Surveillance had to be abandoned at several key central facilities, including the city's main hospital. The squads stationed in those facilities were given discretionary authority, and most chose to retreat to reinforce the main stadium perimeter."
"The main hospital?" a Captain asked. The hospital was a critical resource center.
"Compromised, Captain. A severe and sudden increase in infected was reported. The last report at 22:30 indicated that the tactical retreat to the stadium was useful for stabilizing the new perimeter, but the city is rapidly being lost, with unmanageable zombie densities on the main avenues. Which are jammed with cars, like the rest of the cities."
Bryan closed his eyes for an instant. Alex, they have to be off the avenues. Alex's knowledge, Bryan's warnings... everything was being tested in the hell that city had become.
The officer finished reading the major reports. The remaining camps, small towns, and cities, only reported minor issues, manageable thanks to their low population densities.
The reports showed a clear decline and chaos in the most populated areas, something Bryan had warned Colonel Rogers about a couple of days ago, when this situation of chaos was just a theory, and the military believed they could contain the virus.
Colonel Rogers straightened up, the forced calm had returned to his eyes, but it was now accompanied by a cold resolve. He addressed the officers.
"We have seen the progression. The failure is systemic, and in every case, the main cause is the same in the camps: bitten people concealing their condition, or who are not checked, and internal reanimations breaking containment. Civil fear is as contagious as the bites."
His voice hardened.
"I have dictated a Freedom of Action order for all containment officers. The doctrine of the last few hours is abolished. There are no more subjects for study. From now on, any reanimated subject must be eliminated with the total neutralization protocol immediately and definitively. Fire at will be authorized in environments of imminent biological hazard."
The order, though brutal, was met with a somber nod. It was the only military logic remaining.
Rogers, without waiting for replies, proceeded to reorganize the defense of what remained, starting with his own perimeter and the adjacent refugee camp, for the small towns.
"Security Officer. As of midnight, inspections at the Refugee Camp and in our own Division will be severe. Wound checkpoints will be established at every access point. Anyone attempting to evade inspection will be considered a critical risk and will be forcefully contained. We cannot allow a single internal reanimation to compromise our only secure operational base. Understood?"
"Yes, Colonel. Implementing immediately."
The orders continued to fall quickly and concisely: strict food rationing; search and recovery teams in nearby towns that had not yet fallen; double surveillance on the perimeters; and the incorporation of capable and trustworthy civilian personnel for non-military tasks such as cleaning and logistics.
Bryan observed the professionalism with which Rogers dismantled the last hopes for a civilized solution and adopted the only viable strategy: militaristic survival. He was a man who had crossed an emotional threshold.
The officers nodded, gathered their folders, and prepared to withdraw to implement the new directives, which promised to be as exhausting as the preceding hours.
"One moment," Rogers commanded, his gaze sweeping the room and, for a fleeting second, resting on Bryan.
The Colonel leaned back slightly in his chair, lowering his guard in a gesture of deep introspection.
"I have considered Lieutenant Bryan's proposal. And I agree. Tomorrow morning, at the first sound of reveille, we will give the information to the Refugee Camp."
The officers looked at each other, confused.
"Inform them what?"
"We will let them know everything we know about the virus," Rogers continued, his voice now low, almost a confession. "We will show them the evidence. The videos, the reports. The fact that the bite kills, and that death reanimates. We need them to understand the reality of the neutralization protocols. We need them to understand why we shoot a man who has just been bitten."
A young officer raised his hand timidly. "Won't that cause worse panic, Colonel? A massive revolt..."
"The panic is already here, Lieutenant," Rogers interrupted with a tired authority. "And revolt is inevitable if they see us massacring their relatives without explanation. Bryan is right. We need them to trust us, not because we are the authority, but because we are the only ones who know how to survive this. The only way to gain their total support and prevent them from attacking our units for being considered 'aggressive' is to convert their fear into collaboration."
Rogers stood up, a gesture indicating the end of the meeting.
"Prepare for an information campaign. Be direct, be raw. We want collaboration, not martyrs... You are dismissed."
As the room quickly emptied of tired officers, Bryan lingered for a moment, waiting.
"A brave decision, Colonel," Bryan said, approaching the table.
Rogers looked up, the mask of impassivity cracked, revealing bitterness.
"It's not brave, Lieutenant. It's pragmatic, just as you said before. If we fail, we die and reanimate like that trash. If you are right about what is coming, the camps will need that information more than we do. And if the people rebel against us, we won't even see the sunrise."
"Thank you, Colonel," Bryan said.
"Go get some rest, Lieutenant... Tomorrow will be the day people stop believing in a cure and start believing in the end of the world. And we have to be ready to take that blow."
Bryan gave a short salute and exited the Command Office, closing the door behind him. As he walked down the barracks corridor, now filled with soldiers moving with renewed purpose, Rogers' decision filled him with a strange mix of relief and terror.
The Colonel had accepted the truth of the situation, and in doing so, he had given humanity—or at least their small enclave of it—a chance to fight with knowledge.
Bryan felt the weight of his radio in his pocket. He couldn't contact Alex, not now. But he knew that tomorrow's decision, the released truth, was the only real tool he could give his friend, helping the local camp stabilize their city.
If Alex managed to survive the night in the city's hell, he would at least know that the world would no longer be fighting the virus, but the dead. The only thing that worried him was the anomalous signal still resonating in the last report from Camp 3.
Bryan walked toward his barrack, feeling the weight of the secret lighten slightly. Tomorrow, the burden would be collective.
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[A/N: CHAPTER COMPLETED
Hello everyone.
First, I sincerely apologize for the delays, even after giving specific publication dates.
Here we have Bryan, Alex's friend, who helped him protect his parents who were far away. From this perspective, we learn a little about what happened in other important cities, including the city where Alex lives.
By the way, the division where Bryan is stationed is in charge of three large cities, some small towns, and several villages. One of the villages took refuge directly in the division's facilities, and the other (where Alex and Bryan's parents lived) is under the division's protection.
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Read my other novels:
#Vinland Kingdom: Race Against Time (Chapter 118)
#The Walking Dead: Emily's Metamorphosis (Chapter 33) (INTERMITTENT)
#The Walking Dead: Patient 0 - Lyra File (Chapter 12) (INTERMITTENT)
You can find them on my profile.]