K-day + 152 | 12th Military region, 3rd Jungle Brigade | Manaus city, Amazon |  

It is the rain season and among these grey buildings and beneath an equally grey sky our boots splashed into the murky waters that flooded the streets in a quick rhythm, the distant sound of battle haunted the streets. 

In my arms the smooth curves of a PARA-FAL, we moved together as a full platoon, men of all sizes moved like a swarm through the almost flooded streets some were lucky to have a rain cape others had to do with their boonie hats and familiarity with the Amazonian weather.

We reached a crossroad, the streets weren’t very wide satellite streets are the preferred route, the lieutenant leaned against a greyish-yellow wall and took a view of the street, gunshots echoed and rounds impacted the crossroad, the lieutenant quickly cowered while the gunshots rang splashing water and dust as they hit, the firing stopped after the lieutenant took cover.

“FLAMER!” The lieutenant yelled to us, we all moved towards his position hunching together and preparing our guns.

A man with a rain-hood and a flame-thrower in hand moved close to the center of our street and crouched like an olympic runner preparing for the shot that signalled the beginning of the run, his face was obscured by a shadow, he looked like the reaper itself.
“TARGET IS THE BLUE-HOUSE, BLUE-HOUSE, PREPARAR!” The lieutenant yelled, 

adrenaline flowed through my veins. 

This isn’t the first time we did this but it never fails to make your heart skip, the men around me felt the same I could see in their eyes and postures. 

I slid a Rifle-grenade down my muzzle break rotating it until a metallic locking sound was felt and then used my canine teeth to change the gas-setting.

“VAI!!” The lieutenant took position and began firing firing his IA2 towards the blue house the entire platoon followed his lead and fired, nothing but the staccade of automatic weapons could be heard, i quickly moved to the street took position and fired my grenade hitting the blue house i then ran back to cover almost slipping in the watery path while the firing continued and the flamer operator ran like a bolt until he was close enough and then spewed his mortal fire into the enemy bastion, 2 seconds of flame it was all that took for the classical-built blue house to be consumed. 

Even the gentle rain didn’t stop the fire from burning the enemy. They would scream if they could, we all smiled while the flames destroyed our target. The reaper was returning triumphantly with a smile on his face, we all cheered him.

“Let’s go two blocks to go, on me!!” The lieutenant yelled and began jogging again, we followed

The Cold rain keeps falling down, the sky is grey, the city is infested with monsters, the inundated streets wait for our footsteps, the Jungle platoon keeps moving through the deserted watery ways of this once big metropolis. 

As a unit we are many and we have a tight schedule to follow, we must reach the Military relics in downtown before the bombs start to drop, our company commander deliberated this operation of his own volition, they don’t know we are here, we have been promised a heliborne evacuation but other than that we are a forlorn hope going against time, the company commander thinks those relics will be important. We follow his orders.

My lungs burn while my feet keep impacting the cold water on the street, 1 block to go, then we’ll reach the Police park and the museum, it’s deep in the red-zone and we already made too much noise fortunately we got enough cold steel to fight our way through, let’s hope the Harpy squadron will come take us back to safety when the shadows come for us.

Below the shadow of gentle trees and over the rancid water that fills these streets, we keep on moving, the colourful blue, green and yellow houses of the colonial/imperial period share space with the modern grey architecture, the sidewalks are broken by the roots of old trees, abandoned cars of all colours and shapes fill the streets.

Down the street we see them, shambling corpses wandering around, undead around 25 of them an eerie sight to behold.
Usually we would curral them into an alley or an alley-like way where we would only have to face a small number of them and we would bayonet them one by one conserving our energy and taking our time, but we don’t have time right now, we will have to shoot our way through, attracting more of them towards us.

“HALT!” The lieutenant yells, his voice echoes through the streets, alerting the undead to us. 
“Firing line!” his order is punctuated by the screech of a whistle
The sound of boots impacting the cold water mingled with the wail of the whistle, the soldiers in the back crouched and kept their guns armed protecting our rear and flanks, the ones in the front including me, formed a line shoulder to shoulder IA2s, FALs.

The Undead began shambling forward, some sprinted splashing water as they came, others made their best to force their gangrenous limbs to move, their faces were contorted into expressions of hate and pain, their eyes were a big incognita, their scleras turned black, their retinas likewise also turned into pitch black.

The guns came to life, my ears began to ring while my vision was filled with muzzle flashes. My rifle fired but didn’t eject. 
I had to use it like a bolt action, 1 shot, 2 shots, the Staccato of firing turning me deaf by each second, until it stopped, I took this wait to fix my rifle.
The gas port was set to fire rifle-grenades. I took a still warm and wet brass casing from the street and used it to set the port back to normal. 
While I was preoccupied with this the undead were defeated, their broken bodies lay on the watery streets, their rotten blood turning the greyish waters red.

Almost there, we are already at the park where the museum resides. The place smells different, more natural but the smell of the wet asphalt remains. The rain keeps on falling.
We don’t need to run anymore, the Lieutenant yells orders sending teams to arterial streets, so we can use them as kill boxes when the undead and monsters come. There’s enough space here for the helicopters to land, we will just have to move some cars around.

The men started doing just that, breaking car windows, moving the hand brakes and pushing them around. The cars would be brought up to one of the streets and used to mount barricades.

The Lieutenant ordered my squad to enter the museum and get the relics.

To say the building was old would be understatement, it’s colonial architecture was characteristic albeit not as luxurious or attention stealing as some other buildings in this city it’s actually quite simple in it’s design, a red rectangle with a lot white stone windows, each window has white-stone rails on the outside part, the windows are large enough to act as doors and there’s a lot of them every part of the wall is adorned with them with little space between one another.

This used to be the police headquarters in the city, but as the city grew and turned into a metropolis a new building far away from downtown and all the traffic was chosen, this old building then turned into a museum, old relics from the internals wars in Brazil are housed there alongside many other things, our priorities are the war relics the rest is a bonus.


5 men are going in, and my fireteam’s leader, an old Half-indian, orders us to stack up on the main entrance. 

The old blackish wooden doors and a small garden are our environment for now. 
We check our armor, old canvas and nylon pieces tied to our arms, which will save our lifes in case one of the zombies gets too close and we also have the same pieces on our necks, we keep it to a bare minimum because the average temperature here is too high and no one wants to become a sweat slime, couple that with our rain-coats and we should be one step above vulnerable, still not perfect though.

“Go Go!” The leader exclaimed using one hand to push the door open and aiming his IA2 with the other.

We all moved in together, the place was dark and the smell of old wood and carpet was strong, the place itself was anachronistic, a corridor with a short set of stairs connected the entrance to the halls, red carpet showed the way.

We moved on with guns aimed through it, reaching the first floor’s hall, the place was filled with old relics, but the floor was dominated by a gigantic collection of old coins that were spread around multiple rooms and all were placed inside a table with a glass window on-top, a small note alongside each coin denoted the year and story behind it.

This was all futile and useless to us, the real meat was spread in some rooms in the western wing and second floor, the Police museum, everything from uniforms, guns and of course The relics.

I moved alongside Luis, one of the riflemen and a long-time friend of mine towards the stairs in the eastern wing.

“Why aren’t we going with the rest of the guys? we’re gonna get our asses chewed for this, y’kno?” Luis said while we made our way.

“Trust the plan, ok trust me, you’re always so pessimistic and always talkin shit ‘bout my plans but when did they ever blow, eh bro?” I said, with a smile reminding my friend of my good track-record.

We took the stairs, the sound of falling rain reverberated from outside.

We reached the second floor, another old wooden floor, white stone walls. with glass cases and mannequins everywhere some posters and informatives pinned on the walls added color to the place.

The sound of boots coming from the other side of the building intermingled with the vibration of the rain.

“Ok, time to look for it, keep your eyes open for a silver laurel crown and a silver and golden embroidered national flag.” I said, while moving about and looking for the two relics.

Shots were heard from outside, at first just one or two here and there, but it soon evolved into a full blown firing, reminding me of my time in the shooting ranges.

“Shit Matias, let’s get this shit before we run out of time” Luis said, his voice was anxious and panicky, his posture remained the same.

A dog ran out of one of the corridors, a caramel mutt. it was visibly startled, when it saw me and Luis it began to growl at me.
I approached it, it began to get more aggressive, barking at me.

“Matias you crazy, get the fuck away from it, it could be infected or some shit” Luis said, pointing his FAL at the Caramel mutt.

The dog went forward and bit my arm. Thanks to the canvas protection around it it’s teeth didn’t pierce my flesh, but it crushed my arm, causing pain and eliciting a growl from me.

“Don’t shoot him!” I yelled to Luis who had his finger on the trigger and was aiming at the dog.

The dog had an angry expression while it tried to trash my arm.
I began to pat it’s head, slowly the angry expression began to evaporate, it began whimpering and licking my arm, not biting anymore and angry no more.

“See? it’s just a scared doggy” I said to Luis, who began lowering his rifle.

The dog stopped licking my arm, barked and moved towards the corridor and then stopped and looked at me as if motioning me to follow him.


I followed the dog, the dog jumped trying to reach my hand and get my attention after the attention was given the dog then moved down a corridor that didn’t connect to another hall. The corridor was badly illuminated; it was an old service passage with a bathroom and some storage rooms.

He moved up to one of the closed wooden doors and started rasping it with his claws standing on his two hind legs.
Luis followed me, although reluctantly.
I tried to open the door, it was locked and didn’t budge.

“Luis, you said you wanted to breach last time we did this, so go ahead” I said to Luis after making sure it opened to the inside, Luis responded with a sigh.
I moved back pulling the dog to me and away from the door.
Luis moved back a few steps, his heavy backpack visibly weighing him down and a FAL in his hands.

He kicked the door, close to the doorknob, the door budged but it wasn’t enough to open it.

“One more time” I said, the dog was visibly enthusiastic.

Luis kicked it again and the door opened with force hitting against the wall and making a lot of noise.
The small room was well illuminated by a big window. The room was pristine as if it was being kept diligently ever since this whole thing started.

The room was empty safe for a white mannequin wearing a old rugged and worn police uniform, a silver laurel crown on his head and his right hand holding a republican flag standard, the mannequin was behind a glass box, the glass box was spotless and well cared for despite all the hell that happened.

“Is that it?” Luis questioned upon looking at the symbols of dirty glory.
“Yes, yes it is” I said, mouth open while looking at the glass display.
“Let’s get this out of here and get the fuck out of downtown, radio in with the guys” I proclaimed to Luis while i prepared to strike the glass display with the butt of my rifle. The dog was keeping his distance, he knew what would happen when i striked the glass, it seems.

Luis began talking on the radio, relaying the good news. The sound of firing was heard outside, just some individual shots, probably marksmen taking care of stragglers, I hope.
I bursted the glass display open with the butt of my PARA-FAL sending glass everywhere. I did a thorough job making sure I wouldn't rip the flag as I took it out of the display.

I took the silver laurels first, stepping inside the display and reaching with my hands, I took it off the mannequin with a need for a place to put it. I took my boonie hat off letting it fall to the floor and wore the crown.
Afterwards I took the flag off the display cautiously to not let it rip off on the remains of the broken display.

“Yes, he got the relics, we’re ready to go. Understood, out.” Luis said over the radio, he was crouched by the door, the dog was beside him.
“We gotta regroup at the entrance, there’s a huge horde coming and the Harpies will take some time to reach us.” He said as I approached.

“What about the bombing?” I questioned.
“They are coming, our timing is good so we should be able to come out of this alive.” He said while he stood up.

Shots were heard outside, not like before this time it was a full firefight, it seems the horde just reached us.

The dog barked and ran out of the room.


As the sounds of firing resounded from outside like a great waterfall, we moved through the halls, following the dog. The flag was a bit too tall for the building which made it a bit difficult to move through the thresholds and stairs.

We reached the outside, the air was cold and the rain was still falling below the grey sky. The sounds of the guns echoed throughout the empty streets now bustling with action.
The flag hustled in the cold wind while Luis and my squad moved to the barricades, ordering me to move and follow them.

I took my time and breathed the clean air while admiring the golden-green standard in my hands, reluctance clouded my heart at that moment like an invisible weight trying to stop me from moving.

I ignored it, closed my eyes, took a deep breath and followed Luis and my squad to one of the many barricades, Flag in hands and the FAL in my sling beating against me as I ran.
The enemy… there were so many of them, the floodwater was becoming red as the bodies piled up, the rifles kept on firing and they kept on coming, all shapes and sizes, from kids turned undead to giant abominations of muscle and bony protrusions, it was like the monsters in the abyss of our nightmares were given free reign of the material world.

The legion of undead was a multicolored one, the red blood and angry eyes was the only constant, our position was composed of some civilian cars put together to form a makeshift wall.

Reaper, our flamethrower operator, was with us; he's pretty much an unofficial part of our squad, he’s simply observing clenching his LCT1 flamer, his Raincoat and flamer-fuel tank making him a characteristic silhouette among the bracing men in the barricade.

Luis was shooting in careful aimed shots, bracing against a car’s windshield, he had magazines laying on top of the car, ready for use.

Paulo, our machinegunner was giggling like a maniac while making his gun giggle with fire, he set the gas to the highest setting and fired in short bursts, making a characteristic cloth-tearing sound, like an audivel searchlight during the fight. He wore a standard camo uniform, an old and worn ALICE pack, filled with ammo, he relied on us to carry his daily amenities, preferring to carry the bare minimum of it with him and filling the rest of the pack with ammo, we called him mule because of that.

These three weren’t the only ones there, but the only ones that I could recognize beneath this rain.

I came closer, bringing the flag to bear making sure everyone could see it.
The Flag fluttered proudly while the men fired away, the undead were heard screaming, but not in pain.

They started retreating, they turned away from the barricade and ran the opposite direction, leaving their dead and cut-off limbs behind, it was spectacular. They are usually nothing but mindless husks of hate and evil, but they showed intelligence upon seeing the banner. A scary sight indeed, but an awesome one too. The flag brought fear into the hearts of those mindless abominations, it saved us.

“Corporal Matias!” The familiar voice of my sergeant was directed to me. “Good fucking job, you fucking crazyfuck” 
He approached me, the Sergeant was a middle aged average sized man, the opening signs of a beard in his worn out face, he was my instructor in basic training so he knew me quite well.

While Sarge was congratulating me on a job well done, I saw that dog, the same one from the museum, he ran towards the barricade at full speed, spraying the flood water on the street as he came. When he reached the barricade he jumped on top of one of the cars and started barking, barking very aggressively.

“What the fuck is that mutt doin’?” Mule said, while he changed, he dropped some water on top of his MAG’s barrel.

“SHIT SHIT SHIT, guns ready, guns ready caralho!” I said while pointing towards the street, the sound of firing everywhere else stopped, a short period of calmness during a firefight was a sure sign of an enemy counterattack, and I learned to trust dogs.

FALs, IA2s and MAGs were reloaded, the sound of magazines entering the wells and bolts being cocked were heard, almost in unison.

And then, nothing. We waited and waited while the rain fell on our faces and mingled with our sweaty anxiety.

“Matias… i think it’s over” Luis said, while maintaining his eyes on his sights.

The flag fluttered, the sound it made dominated the air while the rain continued to fall on us.
And then, the rage-filled screams contested it, followed by a stampede of feet, it came for us.

These zombies, these old ones that were laying under the sun for a long time they turn decrepit and unable to run, unable to move correctly, they are like flesh puppets you know, but this time, even the most decrepit ones were running, running towards us, toothy smiles on their furious faces, it was surreal.

“FIRE! FIRE! FUCKING FIRE!” Sarge proclaimed and set an example with his IA-2 rifle firing away in full auto.
Mule followed, and the rest of the guys soon supplanted them.

They kept firing, the bodies kept on piling up but something kept pushing the undead closer and closer, their disfigured bodies still reminiscent of people brought with them the acrid smell of rot and disease.
Bones, flesh and muscle were being destroyed by bullets, like meat being hacked away, some continued to move even after losing most of their bodies, fueled by some unnatural evil.

“Fireteam Brahvoh! retreat, Fireteam Alpha will cover us” Sarge said, while pointing to the guys in Fireteam Bravo to move back, while me,Luis, Reaper, Mule, Sarge and two other guys stayed.
I didn’t fire my gun yet, I had to hold the flag.

“Back, Back, move back!” Sarge said while he popped a new STANAG magazine in and moved back, keeping his aim at the street, Mule followed, Reaper Sprayed flames on the barricade while the rest of the guys moved back.

The sound of aircraft was heard in the distance, Super Tucanos escorting the C130s that were carrying the thermobaric bombs that would level this place, did they forget about us down here? Luckily the C130s were nowhere to be seen, the Super Tucanos always come first to make sure the airspace is clear for the slower C130s.

We thought that the flames were gonna give us some breathing space, but they kept on coming, burning as they came, the smell of burnt flesh was strong, they were killed as they came.
So many of them, So fucking many, they just kept on coming, some of them had bony protrusions on their bodies, it acted as both weapons and armor.

“Where are the helicopters?” I heard one of the soldiers ask in between the firing
“I don’t know fuck, I don’t know, now shoot, shoot!” Another one responded.

Were we fated to die here? Did the company commander really send us to death for a flag and a laurel crown?
We kept on retreating while the bodies piled up, when we left the asphalt and reached a part of the green park I stabbed the flag into the ground standing, and used my rifle.

“Don’t retreat!” Sarge proclaimed upon seeing me “We need space for the helicopters to land, DON’T RETREAT!”

I fired and I fired, the metal folding stock hitting my shoulder was like a form of meditation for me, I could shut myself off while keeping my concentration on what’s in front of my iron sights.
I didn’t need to care about dying, today was a good day and I felt closer to death before. I wasn’t a kid anymore, I didn't need to feel scared anymore. I’m sure Saint Peter would greet me when I reached the gates.

They reached us, no matter how much we fired the tide was closer and closer, grenades exploded infront of us, they managed to pull one of the guys closer to me, they tore him to pieces while he screamed, i was reloading while they did it and was forced to watch, i could feel sadistic satisfaction in their faces while they tore the young man limb by limb.

They looked at me, and I knew that’s how I would die.

The sound of rotor blades was heard in-between the firing, like the singing of angels, like a desert mirage in sound form, it was a dream. I smiled, I smiled like never before I knew I wouldn't die today.

https://youtu.be/4rTb20IoM4I

Puma helicopters, armed with Skyfire rocket pods attached in an improvised way to the sides, fired over us, their lethal payload like rocks impacting quiet water, hope given rocket form.

They came closer, making the flag flutter even strongly on the wind. 

“We are leaving! Get on the choppers!” Sarge said while pointing towards the now landed choppers behind us, their side gunners firing away over us.
“SELVA!” Was heard almost in unison by everyone still standing.

I slinged my FAL and reached for the flag, someone clawed away at me, cutting the side of my face and reaching for the flag.
I instinctively pulled it towards me, a shot rang and the undead that tried to steal it was dead on the floor. I took the flag and ran as fast as I could towards one of the Pumas.

I boarded it making sure the flag would enter, I was one of the last to enter, the undead followed me but before they could reach the doors the helicopter began to climb up.

I looked around, the helicopter was filled with people, like a bus in rush hour, the smell of blood, wet clothing and sweat was  heavy in the air. I heard a dog barking happily inside the chopper too, and there it was near one of the seats, the caramel mutt, happy as everyone else.

The sound of jubilation echoed in the chopper, like a christmas reunion, everyone was hugging each other and congratulating themselves. There was blood all over the side of my face and parts of my shirt, half of the flag was gone, the rest was dirtied with blood.
I took the laurel crown out of my head and looked out from one of the windows, we were already alway from the place, the undead were nothing but dots.

I saw the C130 with an open ramp, short moments of anxiety later something slid off, the place went away and a parachute opened.
A loud explosion was heard, everyone shutted up and looked out to see a grey liquid cloud on top of the park, that turned into an even louder explosion and a visible shockwave that destroyed everything in its path.

We won.