Night of the Living

Paolo gripped Marcia's hand tight enough to leave it white from the pressure.

"Marcia, how can you sleep with this thing buzzing like that? Wake up!"

"I know. I know." Marcia yawned and closed her eyes again.

"Quick. The alarm just set off, someone just ripped through the front gate." 

Paolo cursed under his breath. He had just spotted on the camera a trail of blood left through the yard and whatever it was, it was banging on the front door now. He took a moment and tried to be calm with her, Marcia finally woke up and looked terrified. 

"We need to go to the attic and wait for the police."

Marcia's hair was an untamed coiled mess when her father dragged her to the roof top in her pajamas. 

"It's probably just a stupid injured cat...Just stop rushing me and treating me like a child." Marcia said brusquely.

"You look just like your Mother when you're pissed off at me." 

"Whatever." she said rolling her eyes.

Paolo and Marcia had figured it out now, it wasn't a break-in. It was one of those people the news stations warned them about. Paolo took the precautions and barricaded themselves from the roof top of their two-story home. With the emergency numbers unresponsive, Paolo knew they wouldn't show up now. He was now finding news articles on his phone about a growing number of threats spreading overnight. Their best bet was to get away, far enough away from the tightly-packed houses in their neighborhood. He looked around desperate for a way to jump down from their building.

"Dad!" Marcia pointed to a naked man with large gashes salivating red fluids from his lips a few doors down. "Look is that? Is that, Uncle Lopes?" 

"Don't - " Paolo flinched. "Just turn around. Don't look at him." 

Paolo rotated her shoulders.

"Okay. But-"

"It's just...too fucked-up. Everything we heard in the news... It just dawned on me. Everything they said was real. It does something to your brain." Paolo rubbed his forehead. "All of those crazy conspiracy nut-jobs saying this was all some fucking Government ploy. This is why we weren't prepared for it."  

"Dad!"

"What, Marcia?"

"You're rambling. Shouldn't we find some way to get down?" 

Paolo picked up an old wooden chair then looked out into the foreground where there was a tiny glimmer of the Christ the Redeemer statue still lit from up top of the grassy Corcovado Mountains. 

"This is your doing, isn't it, God Almighty?" he whispered. 

The scenic view tarnished from a loud scream out there in the night. Those loud shouts of horror made him and Marcia's heart sink. Some of them were familiar to them, their friendly neighbors and family members now lost in the chaos. Paolo knew his priority was his daughter, and wouldn't risk putting her in harm's way. 

Out there amongst the crescent moonlight was the harsh realization of people quickly changing. The infected mothers and fathers were killing their children. Those children Marcia liked to play soccer in the favelas were now attacking each other and eating the gentle street dogs. The elderly people were the most horrifying to witness. Once slower and dull were now sprightly and feral as they succumbed to this insatiable desire to feast. Many of them broke their own ankles trying to leap and run more than their feeble bodies could endure. Most of the infected elderly were crawling on the grounds. 

Paolo heard someone call his name amongst the uproar. 

"Ey! Ey, Mano!?" their neighbor, Mr. Ribeiro waved his arms out to signal them. He looked as if he had gone through hell in his ratty ripped tank and blood-stained jeans. "Ey, down here, Mano. Wow, is it good to see a familiar face!"

"Oh, Hey. My favorite Neighbor!" Paolo rushed to the edge to find Mr. Ribeiro bare-footed on broken glass and pieces of furniture. 

"We're stuck up here! Me and my daughter."

Marcia waved at him snacking on a bag of pork rind chips.

Paolo nearly broke his neck turning back. "Really? How can you eat right now?" 

"Don't you worry, Mano. I get you down. I got a ladder in the shed!" 

Mr. Ribiero was always kind to Paolo and his daughter when his wife passed away, always inviting him to every international game on TV when Brazil played.

He quickly went to fetch a short ladder he had found and propped it by the edge of the house. "Mano, you're gonna hop down or what? I'll make sure you don't fall off this thing. I have an idea on where we can go... Pass the bridge to the country club my little brother Matteo has a helicopter license parked by their golf course."

"That's good news, Neighbor!" 

He held it steady as Paolo brought his legs down to align his feet.

Suddenly there was a crash of bodies hitting the steel gate. They were the infected that heard them shouting, about five or six of them banging their heads on the steel gate.

"Shit! Change of plans, Mano!". Mr. Ribeiro shouted.

Mr. Ribeiro tossed a baseball bat to the roof. "I don't want to forget this." 

The infected continued pushing their weight and tilting the gate forward.

Paolo shimmied his way back onto the rooftop.

"Mr. Ribeiro, they're coming!" shouted Marcia. 

"They're coming, Neighbor. I need you to climb up the top step on this thing."

"Shit." Mr. Ribeiro said looking at the steps. He was a obese man who was already sweating profusely and struggling to balance his way up to the first one.

He turned to the infected who were grunting maniacally and twitching.

"Quick!" Paolo said extending his arms out.

Mr. Ribeiro took a few steps wheezing and fell down to the side.

"Mr. Ribeiro, you have to." yelled Marcia. 

"Shit. Try to stay calm, Neighbor, your legs are shaking, I need you to prop the ladder back up and jump for me! Now, Neighbor!"

"I don't know if I...Mano..." Mr. Ribeiro rested his arms on the step ladder and took a deep breath and exhaled. He held his hand against his beating chest.

"Mr. Ribeiro! You can do it, Mr. Ribeiro." shouted Marcia. 

Mr. Ribeiro with trembling arms managed to prop the stairs back up. 

He made another attempt, but made it only three steps sluggishly before looking up to Paolo and Marcia.

Paolo kept shouting. "On the count of three, Neighbor. Please! UMA! DOIS!" 

. Mr. Ribeiro had been too short and too far down for them to reach him. 

The infected had already pushed the gate from it's hinges.  

They toppled down the gate and sped over tackling Mr. Ribeiro from the stepping ladder. He fell hitting his head against the concrete. 

"Oh God Almighty. Please... Don't do this to him..."

They were merciless to him. They maimed him digging their nails deep into his skin and into his ribcage. Mr. Ribeiro bled out quickly in a painful death.

Marcia quickly turned away and began to cry. "Dad! That was-"

Paolo placed his hand on her shoulder. 

"I know. I know. There's nothing we can do for him now"

The infected after having their fill, noticed them up on the rooftop. They had no means to reach them so they lingered around until something else distracted them pass the fences. 

Paolo and Marcia went back up to the roof and waited an hour.

The cloudy night sky made them flinch as it crackled in a thunderous snap.

The water that poured down were large icy gulps.

"We can't stay here too long." said Paolo, we'll only rest for a few more hours. 

*****

Paolo heard a loud explosion on one of the nearby houses and quickly shook Marcia to wake up. She had been sleeping and wrapped under soiled blankets under the shade of a dining table. 

"Marcia! Marcia! Wake up! It's time to go." 

"But, I'm still tired."

"I don't care. We need to move now."

Paolo jumped to the ladder Mr. Ribeiro had placed and helped Marcia down.

Marcia held the metal baseball bat that belonged to their neighbor, and she ran down towards the cemetery elevated on a top steep grassy hill. This was a good vantage point at seeing anyone coming by several feet away.

Paolo stuffed some thorny roses in his backpack from his home before heading over to the front of his late wife's large decorated tombstone. 

It read, "Forever with the Lord, Fernanda Esteves Campos. Beloved Mother and Wife." 

Paolo handed Marcia some roses from his backpack. 

"Go one, say goodbye to your Mom." 

Marcia came down on her knees and placed it down besides her stone.

Paolo had been vigilantly watching around the hills. He finally spotted someone in the distance in a black hooded sweater, covered in dirt and blood. 

"Marcia, stay back behind the tree." 

"Stay back!" Paolo yelled holding out his metallic bat towards the approaching man. The stranger approached unbothered. 

"Ha. At this point you'd be doing me a fa-favor." he said blowing smoke from his lips. "This world has ...gone to shit, and the devil has taken what he's been owed." 

The man gripped a bottle of a sugarcane spirit. "We all - We're all just in this place te...temporary!" he slurred.

"That's not true, brother. We need to be stronger for them." Paolo said. "Those who died. And for our loved ones still alive."

"No No. Don't try to give me your words of advice. You're not my father!" 

Paolo took notice of a small splinter group of infected running from the same route the drunk man had entered. They had followed him from the neighborhood.

"I think you've got some company..."

"Good!" he yelled. "I'mmmuh ready for them!" 

Marcia peered out from the tree and ran to her Dad. 

"There's more of those...sick people coming, Dad."

Paolo grabbed the rest of the thorny roses and placed them down to the tombstone. "I'll take care of her, my love." 

"That's...so romantic." mumbled the man before starting to cry.

"We're getting out of here. Do you want to join us, brother?" 

"Ohhh thank you for the offer, but-" the young man said. "I owe the colonel...hic... one last drink." he said, "I want to say sorry for being such a big ole fat fuck-up my whole life." He stumbled and tripped before quickly getting back up. He walked over to a granite headstone and placed his bottle down. 

He grabbed a small speaker from a ragged woman's purse he had hanging around his neck. He sat down with his legs crossed and played 60's Samba music and hummed.

Paolo and Marcia ran down far away from the infected approaching quick.

The young man had already accepted his fate. 

Paolo and Marcia walked a mile towards the town with more vibrant colored buildings of bright yellows and light reds. There were murals of the local legendary footballer on bricked walls of unfinished homes. Paolo was careful not to make too much noise as he walked with his daughter through the quiet buildings. 

"Wait a damn minute, cowboy!" a voice declared from the roofs.

Someone on top of a building with binoculars yelled out. 

He was shirtless skinny man with skull tattoos embossed in black ink across his skin, around his torso and chest area.

Paolo had looked down and noticed there were long stretches of a metal security gate along certain parts of the streets. 

"You don't cross The Rooster's Nest without paying a toll!" the thin man blew circles of smoke from his marijuana joint.

Paolo and Marcia noticed then the group of mostly kids hiding from the tops of the buildings, they were mostly teens as young as twelve, pointing their automatic rifles and guns out.

"We don't have anything, brothers! We're only passing by, we're not looters!"

"Not looters my ass. That backpack sure looks nice and fat." Rooster said.

"I promise you, Brother. All I have is my personal belongings and a little bit of food for me and my young daughter. We just came back from the cemetery, brother." 

"Is that right?" 

"Yes, brother." Paolo said anxiously. 

"What is that the little kitten is holding then?" 

Paolo turned to the blood-soaked metal bat Marcia tucked in her backpack. 

"Give it here. Go fetch it, Shaggy." he gestured for one of his runts to grab it.

"Screw you! You expect us to just die out there?!" yelled Marcia. 

"Marcia!" Paolo lowered his tone as he enunciated every syllable. "Do not. Make. This situation. Worse than it has to be."

"But, Dad. This thing has been our life line, more than a few times!" 

"Ha! She's got more balls than you, cowboy." yelled the gangster laughing at their bickering.

"Marcia Campos!?" one of the younger kids called out.

"Pele?...No way."

"Oh shit. Hey Rooster, she's that girl that plays ball with us every weekend."

"Ha! The one with the wooden leg?"

"Yeah. She's cool." the kid nodded.

"You know you ought to put her in a scholarship program." said Rooster scratching his belly button with the tip of his 9 millimeter. "He reached into his bag on the floor and tossed a can of peaches towards Paolo who caught it. "You two are so lucky. Avoid White River Avenue." he said. "Thank me later." 

"Thank you, Brother." Paolo said relieved.

Rooster gestured for the rest of his group to point their guns back down.

"Hey! Wait a minute!" called Rooster.

Paolo and Marcia stopped and looked up. 

"If you find some help, you remember we let you out of this hell. You owe us."

"And we won't forget it, Brother." Paolo tapped his hand on his chest.

They finally made their way pass the bridge with minimal contact from the infected and found themselves in front of the gate of the country club. 

The club housed a small airport, a large 10 acre golf course, overlooking the beaches and the city's famous landmark. Paolo and Marci spotted the remains of a charred helicopter by the security gate and lost hope. 

"It's okay, Marcie. We'll make it out of here one way or the other. North to Central America if we have to.

"And then what?"

"Then to the Americans. The should have more resources up there."

"Fuck." Marci said. 

"Watch your mouth"

"Sorry."

Paolo and Marci only made it a few steps before the speaker by the security gate called out for them. "Hey, Hey! Where do you think you're going?"

"We're going to find somewhere to survive." Paolo said. 

"Wait. Wait. I have some ideas..."

"How?"

"Well, for one, we're preparing a helicopter to Atlanta to find the CDC."

"But, I thought it crashed? Listen, sir. My name is Paolo Campos. This is my daughter Marcia Campos, she's only thirteen-years-old. We're good people and-"

"It's Okay, you don't need to beg. My name is Matteo Ribeiro, look - You seem harmless enough, and we have three spaces available before we head out. You two and one is reserved for my brother."

Paolo and Marci were buzzed in through the gate. Paolo wanted to be face to face to Matteo before revealing the truth about his brother.

Matteo locked himself in an office for an hour.

He came out saddened with blood-shot eyes. 

He mustered out quietly. "Everyone, we need to get going."

In the small terminal lobby, there were five other people. 

One older man and woman in their fifties wearing college University of São Paulo T-Shirts. Another man in shades was finely dressed, he had a very short military haircut. There was also a middle-aged woman with short hair wearing a dress.

They all boarded the small plane and had successfully made their way out of Brazilian air space. The ride had been long and turbulent. 

"Nice to meet all of you." Paolo said. "This is my daughter, Marcia."

Marcia waived at the group sitting uncomfortably in tight seats.

"My names Paolo."

"I'm Matteo's wife, Maria."

"Nice to meet you."

"I'm Suzana."

"Hi, I'm Bruno."

The finely dressed man sat silently wearing his sunglasses avoiding the conversation.

"C'mon. We all might as well get acquainted. This plane ride is going to be part of history after all."

"Why do you say?"

The man with the sunglasses turned around from his seat. "Let me remind you two, you're under strict jurisdiction to not disclose anything that would jeopardize the National interest of the Federative Republic of Brazil."

"Oh, give me a break, Tony."

"Look we're researchers. Let's just say we have an idea of how all of this went down. Things are going to be okay though."

"Do you have the cure or something?" asked Marcia.

"Well. We have information on something that can be reverse engineered."

"Would you two shut the fuck up?" said the man in the shades.

After several hours, Matteo and the group of six landed successfully in the American runway. There, they were met with a large squad of emergency vehicles, and news stations desperate to get a glimpse of them. 

Matteo, his wife Maria and the Brazilian Federal agent were called heroic for transporting the scientist across the country. The three of them were nicknamed the Redeemers of Brazil in tabloid and news articles around the world. Thanks to them so many lives would be spared.

The two scientists were controversial figures in the media, some rumored they were responsible for the outbreak that caused the death of hundreds of millions of Brazilian and other South Americans. They ultimately helped to develop a cure.

Paolo had lived a happy life with his daughter Marcia, and the two of them had found a comfortable new community in Lock Lomond, Florida. They were frequently asked how they survived the horrors seen in viral footage across the internet. 

Paolo told the journalist that fate helped them survive the apocalypse. 

Fate and the kindness of their countrymen.