Everyone left the office and, as they were coming down the stairs, Reidner intercepted them. Hoping to dodge the task, he turned to Bruno:
— Hey, Las Vegas, you wouldn't mind going out to grab some blankets and mattresses for us, would you?
Bruno scanned the room and saw everyone busy setting up their spaces for the bedding. In his head he could only think, "Scumbags…" He forced a sarcastic, bitter smile and then shouted loud enough for everyone to hear:
— How dare you, you insect! After all the jokes and mockery, you still have the nerve to ask me to fetch blankets and mattresses for you?
Without waiting for an answer, Bruno stomped down the stairs. He raised his hand high and gave them the middle finger as he kept shouting:
— I want you all to go fuck yourselves! Entitled bastards!
He stormed off with steady, angry steps, leaving a heavy silence behind. Alicia watched the scene, furious—not just at Reidner's gall but at the fact that Bruno, the one who'd risked so much for them, got no recognition. To her, it was the last straw. In her head she thought plainly: "What a pack of cowards… They won't accept as leader the guy who did the most for them, yet they've got the nerve to ask him to risk his life again for something any of them could do."
Unable to hold back, Alicia decided to go with Bruno. At least he seemed the only one willing to act when it really mattered.
Meanwhile, Reidner—still processing Bruno's outburst—walked slowly toward Alonso and called to him:
— Yeah, Alonso… You were right. Looks like it's gonna be the two of us. So, you sure you've got the guts?
Alonso followed down the aisle to the utensils section, Reidner right behind him. Stopping in front of the knives, he picked one up still in its packaging. He looked downcast, hands visibly shaking, and admitted to his friend in a worried voice:
— If we really have to go out there, Reidner, I need to be straight with you… Look at my hands. They're shaking. I don't know if I could use this knife to kill someone. And honestly, I don't even want to have to do that.
***
Arthur ran after Bruno, still breathless, and blurted out:— I'm going with you!
Before Bruno could reply, Alicia stepped forward with Samira at her side. He cast a quick glance at the two but turned his focus back to Arthur.— Listen, man, here's the deal: you, Anael, and Raziel stay here and watch over Samira and the place for me. I don't want those idiots screwing things up while I'm gone!
Alicia, impatient, didn't waste time.— Bruno, let me be blunt. I'm not your responsibility, and I know if I go out there alone, I'm screwed. But I refuse to spend another night sleeping on this freezing floor. So, I'm going with you. From where I'm standing, you're the only one actually making anything work around here!
Bruno stared at her, weighing her determination. In his mind, though, he was already calculating the risk of her becoming a burden outside. He decided to test her.— Fine, you want to come? Then answer me this: if we run into an infected out there, what do you do? And if we're attacked—what's your move?
Alicia held his sharp gaze, unwavering.— If we see one, I'll wait for your command. And if I get attacked, I expect you to have my back. Because if it's you in danger, I'll do my best to help you too.
From across the room, Guilherme burst into laughter, nudging Pedro before throwing in a jab:— Damn, Mohammad, looks like you found yourself a savior, huh? 'Cause I'll tell you right now, bro—we'd be gone in a heartbeat! You're crazy if you think I'm sticking around to fight those things.
His words dripped with irony, his laughter echoing as Bruno ignored him, his expression stone-cold.
Bruno turned back to Alicia, his eyes like blades. He wasn't even fully aware of how rare this look was, but the silence between them grew heavy, charged with something unspoken. After a long moment, he shifted his gaze to Samira, let out a quiet sigh, and brushed the side of his finger beneath his nose—blood.
— Suit yourself, — he muttered, pulling away as he noticed the crimson smear on his fingertip.
While the others rummaged for anything that could serve as a weapon, Bruno strode quickly to the bathroom. He yanked the faucet open and spat into the sink. Blood spread across the white porcelain. Pain surged through his body—hot, cutting—like something alive tearing him apart from the inside.
He shoved up his sleeve, exposing his arm. The veins beneath his dark skin bulged grotesquely, pulsing with a sick rhythm. Black as coal, they carved a disturbing pattern against the warmth of his flesh. The pain sharpened, fused with a primal fury rising through him like a storm.
In the blink of an eye, everything had changed. When he came to his senses, Bruno was already inside the Fiorino. Alicia was in the back seat—her voice snapped him out of his daze.
— Well, Bruno? You're not gonna start the engine?
João Paulo, sitting beside him in the passenger seat, glanced at him sideways with an expression caught between concern and disbelief.
— Dude, you alright? What the hell happened to your eyes?
Bruno blinked, confused. The bathroom, the blood, the pain… how had he ended up here? He pulled his phone from his pocket and switched on the front camera. On the screen, his reflection stared back. His iris—once clouded with a burning red glow—was slowly fading back to its natural brown. He shoved the phone into his pocket with a swift motion, ignoring the knot in his throat.
— There's nothing wrong. You're imagining things.
He turned the key, and the engine roared to life. As he drove, silence weighed heavy inside the Fiorino, far too unnatural—especially with the question gnawing at his mind: What the hell just happened to me? And why don't I remember getting in the car?
***
As they drove toward João Paulo's neighborhood, both he and Bruno began to notice the first signs of the hell the world had become. Infected figures appeared here and there on the sidewalks, while lone screams echoed in the distance, lost between the corners. The air seemed to carry an invisible weight, as if every step forward dragged them closer to something inevitable.
When they turned onto the hill where João lived, the deserted street offered a bitter relief. Luckily, the place looked just like João remembered: empty, forgotten. Bruno pulled the Fiorino up in front of the gate, and before anyone climbed out he broke the silence:
— Looks like this is the new normal: infected wandering around and screams in the distance. — He took a deep breath and looked away for a moment. — João, before you go, I need to ask you something.
João Paulo exhaled, already guessing what Bruno would say.
— Man, I know what you're gonna ask. I'll be straight: the house is empty. There's no chance my mom or Ayme are here. Given the time this all started yesterday, they were probably downtown. I just want to take a shower, grab a mattress, a blanket and some clothes. Then we can go.
Bruno stared at him for a second, weighing the reply, then nodded.
— Alright. But Pedro's coming with you. Me, Gui and Alicia will stay here and keep watch. Got it?
João Paulo nodded, agreeing to the plan.
— Got it. Let's go, Pedro. No time to waste.
The Fiorino's rear door groaned as it opened and Pedro climbed out, a large butcher's knife strapped to his waist. He glanced toward the top of the hill before stepping through the gate behind João, eyes scanning for any movement.
Outside, Bruno and the others also got out of the car. They leaned against the Fiorino's side, each trying to process the weight of that brief calm. After a few seconds, Bruno broke the silence with a thought:
— You know, I've been thinking. Most of the adult population's been infected — that's clear. But then the question is: why aren't we seeing more of them out on the streets?
The others looked to him for more.
— Well, it makes sense. Most people must have been infected inside their homes… and the victims too. What I'm saying is, there are probably a lot of infected trapped inside houses. Honestly, the worst thing anyone could do now is go into an unfamiliar house to hide.
Alicia stared at the empty street, biting her lower lip as if trying to digest the idea. Gui, on the other side of the Fiorino, kept his eyes fixed on the horizon, his shoulders tense.
Alicia turned her gaze to Bruno, quietly absorbing every word and gesture. She wasn't just listening to what he said — she was weighing what his actions revealed. Little by little, she began to notice something the others probably hadn't: Bruno was brutally honest in the way he acted, but completely incapable of admitting anything that touched on his own feelings or intentions.
With a faint smirk tugging at her lips, she finally broke the silence:
— You know, for someone who's so arrogant and loves to run his mouth, you're actually pretty smart.
Bruno raised an eyebrow, an arrogant smile curling across his lips as he looked at her.
— Arrogant? Maybe a little. — His voice dripped with sarcasm. — But narcissistic? Hell yeah. I love that about me. Deal with it. But since you started this little chat, let me tell you something too.
Alicia crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised, waiting for the next jab.
— Listen, girl. The last time a chick looked at me like that and started talking the way you just did… well, we ended up having sex. Just saying.
She let out a short laugh, seizing the opening to throw it back at him.
— Hm… If you're that narcissistic, why don't you take better care of your looks? — she shot back, her tone dripping with sarcasm. — I mean, I'll be honest, you've got a cute face and nice hair, but all that vanity of yours would be way more convincing if you actually tried a little harder, don't you think?
For a brief moment, Bruno seemed caught off guard. He averted his eyes, running a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable. Guilherme, who had been watching the scene with a smirk, didn't miss the chance to poke fun:
— Damn, Bruno, careful there. You know all the pretty boys end up turnin' gay, right—
Before he could even finish the sentence, Bruno smacked him on the head, quick and precise.
— Shut up, Gui, you pest! — Bruno growled, his voice firm but laced with irritation.
Alicia, amused by the idiocy, raised an eyebrow and asked with a teasing grin:
— Are you two always this stupid, or is it just when you're together?
Guilherme laughed, throwing Bruno a mocking look before tossing out another jab:
— Relax, Alicia. I ain't got no problem with you, my fine little cousin. — he said, locking eyes with Bruno.
That was enough for Bruno to want payback. He grabbed Guilherme by the shoulder, his smile tense and dripping with sarcasm.
— Funny joke, huh, Guigui? After that, I feel like a dumbass donkey chasing after you, shoving hard the whole way, you know?
— Hell no, man, get outta here! You're crazy! — Guilherme shot back, laughing at the ridiculous exchange.
Alicia, now just an amused spectator, shook her head and crossed her arms. A faint smile slipped out as she muttered under her breath:
— Men… what a bunch of idiots.
***
João stepped into the house with hesitant steps, Pedro following close behind. The moment he crossed the doorway, a crushing weight pressed down on his chest, as if the very air inside wanted to push him back out. As he walked toward the bedroom, flashes of memory invaded his mind. Laughter, familiar voices echoing down the halls, the smell of home-cooked meals… all of it felt so far away now, like it belonged to another life.
When he entered the room, João froze for a moment, his eyes locked on the doorway. Pedro leaned against the frame, silent, waiting. Without looking back, João began rummaging through the clothes still hanging in the wardrobe, sorting out what could be useful.
— Hey, man… once I head in for a shower, could you start hauling the mattress and blankets to the car? That'll save us some time, you know? — João said, his voice heavy, almost muffled under the weight of his memories.
Pedro gave a quick nod, without much fuss. As João stuffed clothes into a bag, he left a set folded neatly on the bed, then grabbed it and made his way to the bathroom next to the room.
— Wouldn't it be better if you packed that in a backpack? — Pedro asked, struggling as he tried to lift the mattress.
João opened the bathroom door and answered over his shoulder before stepping inside:— My backpack's still at school… Bruno's too.
The reply made Pedro pause, still holding the mattress halfway up.— Wait a sec… you guys were at school when all this started?
João just nodded, refusing to meet his eyes, and shut the bathroom door behind him.
Pedro let out a long sigh, muttering under his breath as he dragged the mattress across the floor:— That explains the state they were in yesterday…
After a while, Pedro came back to the car, having already carried the mattress and blankets. João Paulo appeared shortly after, freshly showered, carrying the bag with the clothes he had set aside.
Bruno, already sitting inside the car, shot a direct question at Alicia:— Tell me, Alicia, do you want to grab anything from your house?
Her face turned pale instantly. She knew that when the panic had started, her mother had most likely been at home. Camille's words about what happened at Larissa's house echoed in her mind, painting grim scenarios. What if the same thing had happened to her mother? What if walking into that house meant stepping straight into a trap?
— No… I'm fine. Just a mattress and a blanket so I can sleep better at night. — Her voice came out weak, heavy with insecurity, even though she tried to hide it.
Bruno didn't even need to look at her. He could feel the fear in her tone — the fear of facing her own mother, turned into one of them.
— You know this is our reality now, right? Sooner or later, you'll need clothes, something for a shower, other stuff. If you want, I can go in there myself. Quick and clean. That way you don't have to see anything… you'll just grab what you need and leave.
His words were firm, but deep down he was trying to ease her tension.
That's when the unbearable pain stabbed through his head again, like a blade splitting his skull. He tried to hide it, pushing through the agony.
— Bruno, what happened to your eyes? — Alicia suddenly asked, her voice filled with worry. — And why is your nose bleeding so much?
She opened the glove compartment and pulled out a rag, pressing it against his nose. But when her fingers touched his face, she froze for an instant. The heat radiating from his skin was unreal — feverish, burning.
Before she could say anything, Bruno blacked out.
When he came to, he was in a spotless kitchen — but every surface was smeared with blood. The metallic stench was suffocating. His face and hands were drenched in red, and in his grip was a smooth-bladed knife, dripping. The world was a blur until the voices of Guilherme, João Paulo, and Pedro pierced through the fog in his mind.
— What the hell happened here?— Pedro, check if he's been bitten!
Pedro rushed forward, scanning Bruno's body for any marks.
— Where… where am I? — Bruno asked, breathless, his gaze darting around. His eyes landed on a mutilated corpse lying at his side. Words barely left his lips. — Who… who is that?
João Paulo reached out and helped Bruno to his feet. As he did, his expression hardened — there was a blackened wound on Bruno's face now clearly visible, one he should have noticed earlier.
Guilherme's voice shook as he spoke.— You don't remember driving us here? To Alicia's house? After you said you'd handle her mother so she could grab some clothes?
Bruno furrowed his brow, trying to stitch the fragments together.— I remember that. At least until my nose started bleeding…
Pedro's eyes were wide, torn between fear and disbelief.— Dude, your nose never bled! You were fine until you stepped into this house!
— What? — Bruno pressed a hand against his head, the stabbing pain returning. His eyes darted frantically. — Where's Alicia? Where is she?!
João Paulo cut in quickly, trying to calm him.— She's in the car, waiting. You went in alone. When you took too long, we came looking — and found you passed out here.
Guilherme pointed at the mangled corpse on the floor, his tone sharp and tense.— Before she comes in, we'd better hide this. You said it'd be quick and clean, but looks like you… tore the old lady apart.
Bruno stared at his bloodstained hands, his face twisting in horror and disgust.— What the hell…
— Go wash up. Pedro and I will deal with the body. — Guilherme gave him a firm pat on the shoulder before motioning to Pedro, and together they dragged the corpse toward the bathroom.
Bruno nodded silently and stumbled to the sink, scrubbing the blood from his hands and face. João Paulo returned to the car, calling Alicia inside to collect her things.
Everything unfolded smoothly. Alicia gathered her clothes, unaware of what had transpired inside. But the tears came anyway, unbidden.
The car ride afterward was smothered in silence — heavy, suffocating. Each of them sank into their own grim thoughts, haunted by what might have really happened in that house.