12th Military Region, 4th Fatherland Volunteer Corp 
Special Forces Squadron ‘PELOPES’
Outskirts of Manaus, Amazon
“K”-DAY +1557
1700 ‘BRT’ -1

Dear Iolanda

How is it going? Well, I hope it is going fine like it is over here. The weather is nice, the torrential rains have lightened up and the sun is finally showing it’s beautiful rays once again.
Is our sweetie O.K? I know Ming is an old and healthy dog, but the thought of her getting some illness or breaking a bone is always on my mind. What about Dad? Did he finally stop smoking? I remember from the last letter you sent me he decreased the fumes. If he really stopped, congratulate him for me! I really miss sitting down and hearing stories of his old days.
Anyways, I bring news from the ‘front’! Well, not really. We got tasked with an infiltration mission again.
I know, I know. You are probably going to try and send a letter urging the Commander to send us to easier missions again, but he won’t even listen to the sergeant, so I doubt he’ll even look upon your beautiful words. Anyways, this time we’ll actually have support. It’s a full-fledged offensive to regain the capital, with tanks and everything. ‘Grão Pará’ or something that fancypants named the entire thing. It’s a pretty cool name if you ask me.
I sadly can’t give more details right now, OPSEC and all of that jazz. You know how it goes, even in the PM I couldn’t give you all the juice. We’re already gearing up for the job, and Sarge gave me some very appreciated time to write a letter for you! Amazing guy, right?
When I get back home, I’ll show him to you and pops. You two will like the dude.
Well, I’m running out of time. I love you and dad very much, stay safe.

Rodrigo.

I get tapped on my shoulder, and a tall, beefy figure stands beside me
‘Done writing your death wish, Rodrigo?’
“Just finished it, Sarge.”
‘You know you don’t need to refer to me by that, son.’
“Fine, Jorge.”
‘That’s more like it. The squad’s all ready to go, so finish your business and hop on in the boat.’
“Of course, S-”
‘Hmm?’
“Jorge.”
He nods, and goes outside of the barracks.
I’m currently in a small FOB, right on the edge of the Amazon River. On the other side? Big Manaus, the old jungle beauty.
The trees almost block the sky above us, with small openings letting us see the blue above. 
My unit is a ‘Glorious Volunteer’ force, or in other words, civilians that had the balls to go to war. Or Ex-Police drafted into the army. Or cannon fodder. There’s many names and classifications of our force. 
I got “lucky”, and was assigned to the obligatory Special Forces Platoon. But ours got reduced so much due to lack of personnel that it is more like five dudes.
Our barracks is more like a canvas tent that shelters four dudes, with the Commander, being a finer man, having a supermarket-quality tent all for his own lazy self.
The other two that share the barracks with me are Geraldo and Sérgio. Sérgio is an old civil policeman, and he keeps telling us how the ‘men’ are attacking his town in Maranhão again. I don’t know why, but the Commander promoted him to Corporal, or ‘cabo’ as we call it here.Not that ranks really matter in our small unit.
And… Geraldo. Nobody knows where he’s from or what other jobs he had, aside from him being born in Acre, and kicking ass with an FN MAG. I doubt he even has an official army rank, he’s just… Geraldo.

I get up, walking over to the still-closed-up tent of the Commander
“Sir, the letter’s done.”
'Can you not interrupt me *now* Rodrigo?’
“Uh, it’s because we’re already going. To the job, remember?”
‘...OH IT’S ALREADY TIME?’
There’s some zipping-up noises from inside the tent, and some shuffling of papers. A minute later, the commander opens the tent and puts his hand out to take the letter
‘May God be with you, although you’re more than capable of making it out safely.’
“I wish I had the same optimism as you, sir.”
I hand him the letter, and he puts it in a small duffle he has hanging from the top
‘I’ll call logistics to deliver this, good luck.’
I salute, and then go over to get my equipment

Beside the barracks are four small holes, usually covered with plastic. Three of them are tore open, with one remaining perfectly untouched
I kneel near the untouched one and tear the seal, with my pristine-condition tools perfectly organized. 
I pull out my broomstick, a 7.62 IA2 Carbine. One of the few virtues of being sent to near-suicidal missions is that you get issued special, more ‘operational’ gear. 
Luckily, after the near decade of delays in production and procurement, the IA2 rifle was ready and in production just in time for the world to end. After Ms. Dilma stepped off of the president seat in Brazil, Imbel quickly lost it’s shackles and rushed infrastructure to perfection. 
Sadly not many units had a lucky strike, and most of the military were still using LAPAs and FALs.
The polymer is smooth, the stamped steel perfectly assembled, and the non-reciprocating bolt perfectly greased and cleaned. I can’t imagine losing this beauty that I hold in my hands.
I also gathered my vest, backpack and perfectly washed Beret, and walked over to the boat where the three squad members were already waiting for me.

Before I can board, the sargeant lets out
“Rodrigo, everything good?” 
‘As always, Jorge.’
“You forgot your pistol.”
‘...Oh.’
I board the boat, with Geraldo slapping Sergio’s back to start the ride
“Don’t worry, I brought it for you. You can thank me later.”
He pulls out an IMBEL M911 A1 in .45, and holds it out by the barrel
I take it and slip it into one of my vest’s pockets, giving him a thumbs up
“Do you all remember the plan?” Jorge asks
A short silence follows, broken by the sergeant grunting
“I should have expected less. Anyhow, we have been assigned with doing reconnaissance from the Manauara shopping and setting up a forward base. Anyone who has been in this hellhole of a city probably has visited there once. Great view of the bridges and river.”
“What are we expecting to find in the shopping itself?” Sérgio asks
“Command doesn't know. We can only hope it’s a couple of average undead. Most of them should’ve died from decomposition, or hunger.”
‘I envy your optimism Jorge.’

“We’re inserting from the river, deep into the city. It will take a while, so ration your snacks, we won’t reach the place until after at least an hour. We’re disembarking near the old Transit Department building, anchoring the boat, and then securing all of our equipment onto ourselves. Still listenin’?”
The other two next to me nod, with me asking
‘Yeah sarge, didn’t you tell us about this already?’
“Well, I may have had to hide some details. Ever heard of the tale of the ‘Sniper at the Gates’?”
‘Don’t tell me…’
“I will tell you all about it, soldier. The myth is about how a sniper took down a big necromancer with one shot and evaded detection right up to the trigger pull. Many tell you about it being fake and just propaganda, but it’s as real as it gets.”
Jorge opens one of the grenade pouches in his vest, pulling out four transparent vials filled with red liquid up to the cork. He then takes one of them, removing the cork and dousing some of the liquid on his free hand. 
Indescribably, he applies it like a shampoo would be applied. Massaging the now-foamy liquid down to the scalp. He then applies some to his face, like camouflage, and douses his entire equipment in it.
Me and Sérgio stare at him wide-eyed, while Geraldo puts his hand out, awaiting one of the vials

“How did he make the shot undetected by a magic user who detects threats, you ask?” Sarge briefly stops to hand Geraldo a vial “By easing his mind, thinking of beautiful tropical islands, an everlasting peace and blue birds. And, by smearing himself in a virgin lamb’s blood.”
By now Sérgio is trying his hardest not to be distracted by the thoughts, and to keep driving the boat straight.
“Well, Brazil doesn't have a large lamb population, and to add salt to injury we aren’t as well funded as the COMANDOS guys. So, our great CO opted for the second option: Capybara blood.” 
Jorge looks at every single one of us in the eye for a second, before continuing the rant
“I know, I know. You all love those animals, and I promise you the blood was harvested humanely. So, what 's the use? The streets of our AO are filled with undead, and we know they can feel threats unlike we can-”
Sérgio cuts off the sarge’s speech “Tell us what we need to do already”
The Sarge grunts “I was getting to it, corporal! Now, after we disembark we CANNOT drop any of our items. Secure them tightly. We’ll be walking among the undead, undetected. Keep your minds calm, think of your families or nothing at all. These unfortunate souls are tormented, so either don’t think or keep it sad and peaceful.”
Coughing a few times, he puts his hand out, with both vials on his palm
“Man up, use the blood, and keep your heads straight. I know you guys can do it.”

A few minutes later, we reached the opening of the city’s river. The boat’s filled with the iron-y smell of blood, with the entire squad in silence.
Sérgio eased up on the throttle, the loud engine reduced to a few decibels over it’s idle sounds. He then took a left, and drove us into the city’s river.
A few meters up ahead, the first bridge showed itself over the many riverside houses. Vines draped over light posts, graffiti endlessly sprayed and a few chunks of concrete were missing. If such a sight could bring hope to someone, they should’ve taken my place.
“Welcome, to MANAUS!” The sarge lets out, a little louder than what should’ve been. He then gets lightly slapped by Geraldo, and he lets it slip uncontested.
“That was… probably a little too much. Anyways, enjoy the view while you can! If you are a little bit on edge, I have a few candy pieces you guys can have.”
“Do you have anything uh… stronger?” Sérgio asks
“Chemicals don’t work. Only things that actually soothe you do. Do any of you want some?
It’s azedinha, so it’s maybe not up to taste for some.”
a short silence follows, then the three of us extend our arms and open our palms at basically the same time
“Well… maybe we’re fucked.” Sarge relents in a sad tone

We pass under uncountable bridges, in the same state of disrepair. Overlooking our river are tall buildings, almost skyscraper-level. They vary from 4-level commercial “prédios” to 16-level residential buildings. Most of them have cracks in their paint, or vines growing from inside. 

Manaus has been a warzone since day 1. Necromancers have turned the hustle-and-bustle of this big city into a dreadful cry for help. Protest-level hordes of weeping souls, forced to roam after their death, walk the avenues. But even after four years of what can be described as pure hell, survivors still thrive in the shadows. 

A few months back, the army made incursions into the city. They still haven’t come back, but strongholds in certain urban areas are still under army control. Survivors flock to those areas, either seeking safety or to help in the fight. 

“We’re almost there, check your items.” Jorge announces

The entire squad has applied the blood of holy rodents, and our pristine-condition equipment tainted with the sins of our government. 
Geraldo has securely duct-taped his FN MAG to his back, including the belt that is currently loaded in the gun. His vest is full of extra ammunition, grenades, and cigarettes. Two extra ammo belts are attached to his torso via zip tie, rambo-like.

Sérgio has an enormous backpack on him, carrying the radio equipment, tents, flares  and all the superglue a GI could wish for. His M4 carbine is tied to his left leg, beard tucked into his shirt and a vest so tight a hoe would be jealous.

The sergeant has his black beret on his head, seemingly glued into place by what I can only hope is sweat. His sunglasses are taped to his forehead, and his rifle, an old M954 G43 in 7.62x51, is firmly secured under his vest. He talks about the rifle as if it is a family relic, and insists his grandfather used it to shoot some paulistas in the 60’s. We’ll never know if it’s true, but it is a truly fine gun.

My equipment is the most simply secured out of all. I simply shoved my IA2 rifle under my pants, stock folded outside of my pants to hold it in place. My belt is also very tight, holding it secure, and I'm certain it won’t fall. My vest has all adjustment systems secured in place, my pistol is tucked comfortably in it’s magazine pouch.

“Everyone good?” The sergeant asks one last time before we disembark
A simultaneous ‘Yes’ is spoken by us, and Sérgio calmly runs our boat aground on a riverbank

We get off the glorified canoe, walking over wet sand up to the asphalt. We are currently on a 5-way intersection, and in the distance lies our objective: the Manauara Shopping.
But, blocking the relatively small distance to the shopping mall, is an avenue flooded to the brim with undead. We can’t call air support, the horde would know something is up in our region and even more bodies would come to greet us. Our only way there is to walk among them.
“Geraldo, take point. Show them who’s boss.”

The behemoth of a man nods, and starts walking at a moderate pace. We all quickly fall behind him, and attempt to take our minds off of the situation we are currently in. All of us walk disarmed, since the slightest intent of drawing a gun would blow our cover. 

We cross a street, and are greeted with a very... “beautiful” sight. The avenue that leads us to the shopping mall’s door is covered in undead. So many that we can barely see the asphalt. They walk around aimlessly, their bodies almost collapsing. Most of the poor souls weep and cry to no avail, and the ones that don’t have their weak arms and hands tensed up. I can’t imagine what could be going on inside of their tormented heads. 

Continuing the mission, we start walking down the street. Each step we take makes me want to turn around and go back. I can’t abandon the mission, but I also can’t abandon my dog, my parents, my home back in Minas. Fucking command and their idiotic plan-

I get lightly slapped in my face, with Jorge right behind me. He opens his mouth for a brief second before closing it again. Talking right now would be a death sentence for all of us.

Geraldo puts his hand up slowly and everybody stops. He looks at us, directly at our eyes. Not uttering a word, he relaxes his neck and his head gently falls over to his shoulder. He then continues on, with a slight limp.

We’re already close to the horde, around 50 meters or so. Some undead stare at us, watching our every movement. But they don’t feel alerted, or even bothered by our presence. They could be curious, but it’s honestly hard to differentiate from the blank expressions the undead have on their face.

Geraldo, once again, stops. A woman is blocking our path, with tears rolling down her pitch black eyes. Her stare analyzes every inch of our being, and she starts to tense up as she glances at our guns. 

But Geraldo starts walking again. The undead woman is taken by surprise, and before she could react Geraldo weakly shoves her to the side. We follow behind him, taking the opportunity to blend in among the horde. 

The smell is horrid, like a deteriorating pig. We push on, wiggling ourselves between mindless undead. Noone has noticed us yet, and everything is going according to plan. 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” Something screams from the start of the horde. 

What happened next can only be described as the ‘worst sound of my life’. The original, high-pitch scream started to be repeated by more undead, and more and more. 

Imagine playing telephone, but instead of saying ‘paralelepiped’ to your friend they just scream at you and expect you to reverberate it. 

Geraldo screamed from the top of his lungs, and jumped at the ground. We followed suit, throwing ourselves down. We covered our heads and important organs, in the ‘anti-bear’ position. An instant later the slumbering human wave kicked off. The once weak, almost lifeless bodies started running down the avenue, in the same direction as we pretended to go.

It felt like you were being chased by a mongol army on horseback. Hundreds- no, thousands of people running. Some avoided stepping on us, jumping over. Some just didn’t notice and stepped on us. The horde seemingly didn’t care about our existence, triggered by some other event. 

OW! OW! OW! FUCK! I quickly placed my hand on my mouth before I could let out any more swears.
One of the poor souls tripped on me. It used to be a man, in his early adulthood. His face beaten to all hell, and the left part of his jaw was missing. He fell a solid meter from me, and after falling his pitch black eyes stared at me for a few seconds. He then curled his upper lip, showing his teeth to me. He somehow knew I wasn’t one of them.
His muscles tensed up, and at the moment when he was going to lunge at me he got kicked by something. And kicked by something else.

It was like seeing a kid getting ganged up on school. Some of the undead that were running jumped on him, tearing his head open almost instantly. They stepped on his now-limp body, trying to reach the juicy rotten organs inside. One of the undead punched his skull open, and started slurping his brain like a dog would.

For all the weeping these poor people do, they are absolute animals.

After what felt like an entire hour, the entire wave passed by us. At the back of the horde was the same woman Geraldo shoved, her brittle jaw now dislocated. She was attempting to scream, but her vocal cords probably should have been torn by now. She held her arms up, keeping other undead ‘in line’.
We’re really lucky.

Geraldo gets up and whistles at us. The entire avenue now sits silently, the stampede being out of sight and distance now. 
We get up and continue walking towards the shopping mall. Hopefully the hardest part has gone by.

K-DAY +1557
2 days, Six hours for Operation Start
18:30

The sun is setting behind the tall skyscrapers in the distance. We have been dreadfully walking for the past twenty minutes, and I can feel the shopping mall is around the corner.
We’re tagging along the sidewalk, the once bustling avenue beside us sat silently, filled with stomped-over corpses. 
There are vultures on the top of nearby buildings, watching us intently. They are probably thinking we’re trying to ‘defend our hunt’, walking beside so many carcasses. I would be surprised if some buildings don’t have their nests, those birds seem to be everywhere in this city.

Jorge has taken point ever since the horde awoke, he insists he knows the place. 
The mall is around 100m from us, we just need to cross a street to reach the place.
The sarge holds his hand up, and we all stop. 
“Sérgio, hand me the radio.”
The corporal opens one of his pouches, and passes Sarge a big green handle with a small, bendy wire connecting it to the corporal’s backpack.
“Winchester, this is Four-Uncle-Alpha. We have arrived at the objective, see us yet?”
A few seconds later, a raspy voice answers from the radio
 - Four-Uncle al- Al… For fuck’s sakes Jorge, we were seeing you since a few streets ago. No need for fancy callsigns.
“Glad to hear it, Yago. You two still chugging goat blood?”
 - We told you already, it was in a rag. How’s bathing in capybara blood working out for you four?
“It’s a great perfume, you should try it out! Rehydrates the skin and all that fancy jazz.”
There’s a small chuckle from the other end of the line
“Anyways, anything entered the objective?”
 - Not that we saw. It should be clear, but still be careful. We only arrived yesterday.
“Very good, you should proceed with your next objectives. I heard the Germans are really hard to appease, so you should get on with it.”
 - For the last time, they’re not germans! They’re floridians, it’s different. We’ll have this talk later, good luck to you four. Winchester out.
“Good luck to you too, Winchester. Four-Uncle-Alpha-Alpha-Uncle-Four out.”
 - Fuck you.
Sarge clicks off the radio, handing it back to Sérgio
“You guys should take notes. You can’t take the caçadores seriously or they get all ego on you.”
Sérgio then says “Aren’t we the same to the infantry?”
Jorge looks directly at Sergio's eyes, and responds “Compared to the infantry in our division, yes, we are.”
The corporal cracks up, and gets tapped in the shoulder by Geraldo. 

A few seconds of silence later, I say ‘We should get a move on, else I won’t get you three cheeseburgers.’
“Oh shit, yeah. We should get on with securing the objective. We’ll go directly to the top floor of the parking lot, and me, Sérgio and Geraldo will set up camp.”
‘What about me sir?’
The sarge breathes in deeply, and in the most american accent says kind-of-loudly 
“RODRIGO, SECURE THE BURGER KING!”
‘Oh, fuck you!’
“You know it is the job you were born for. Don’t disappoint.”
Geraldo, for the first time in the entire operation, opens his mouth
“Note down my order. Three cheeseburgers and a large milkshake. And 30 nuggets, too.”
‘I can’t make promises, man. It’s been a time since the ice cream machine was turned on.’
“You know today is a special day. We have this entire fucking place for us, and there isn’t a single gym in there. I’m going to eat special whether you like it or not.”
‘Oh yeah, the “I'm simply built different” talk. I’ll get you what I can.’

Jorge loudly SHHH’s, and we get ready to run across to the shopping. Everybody has gotten their weapons ready, except me.
Let’s just say putting a rifle in my pants wasn’t a good idea. And I'm not going to yank them down in front of the boys.
I’ll probably have to grab me a new pair of boxers too, fuck.
And to think a few hours ago I was praising the weapon’s picatinny.
Jorge announces “Ready or not, let’s go!” as he darts to the mall
I quickly pull my ‘911, and run across the road.

I incarnate my ancestral african slaver spirit and leg it like an angolan across the road, getting to the shopping mall before the three others
“HEY RIFLEPANTS! There’s no need to run like this, for fuck’s sakes!” Jorge screams from behind me
‘Hey, you're not the one that needs to grill for three fat asses, sarge!’
“WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME BY, SOLDIER!?”
‘Oh fuck off.’
The other members of the squad reach my position, we’re at the main entrance of the shopping center. Vines hanging from the outside walls, covering some of the glass panels outside. But, surprisingly, the lights are on inside. The eerie silence of the street outside is replaced by a comforting, yet still creepy, hum from the internal air cooling system.
‘Finally, we’ll be able to escape this fucking heat.’
Jorge walks up behind me, tapping me in the back
“Battle comms, boys. We don’t know what is inside. Rodrigo, do you have a radio?”
‘Of course.’
“Okay, so. You’re tasked with doing a sweep of the first and second floor. Nothing too serious, just look around in the corridors and make sure the bathrooms haven’t overflowed. Geraldo will take the third floor, me and Sérgio will take the last floor and set up camp outside, in the parking lot. Got it so far?”
We all nod, and the sarge continues
“Rodrigo, if you don’t find anything you’re tasked with getting us some food.  We couldn’t pack that many rations, we needed to save space for the important equipment. If you find anything living, report it to us. If it is un-living, try to give it a whack in the head and don’t shoot.”
“Geraldo, once you’re done come up to the camp and help us set up. That is all, let’s move it!”
I open the door to the shopping, and everybody barges in at once. Without saying a word, we split up.

Gosh, why do I always get the trashiest jobs? I’ve already sweeped the entirety of the first floor, bathroom included. Miraculously, the toilets haven’t overflooded. Manauara engineering is truly amazing.
Nothing out of the ordinary. Glass shards cover the lounge areas, fungi are blooming on walls, but no real threat. 
I take a small walkie-talkie out of my pocket, and press the big button
‘Four-Uncle-Alpha Leader, this is Four Uncle Alpha Janitor. No signs of enemy stains on the first floor.’
I hear Jorge wheezing all the way from here, and after some seconds he responds
“Roger that, Four Uncle Alpha Ja-” He laughs yet again. “For fuck’s sakes Rodrigo.”
‘You know I had to do it. I’ll sweep the second-’
I hear a quick shuffle from behind me, and I quickly turn around, .45 in hand.
There’s a paper voucher on the ground. It gets pushed by the wind shortly after
‘As I was saying, I’ll sweep the second floor now.’
I holster the pistol. Fucking amazonian wind and it’s circulation.
I walk to one of the escalators scattered around the shopping mall. Sadly, this is one of the few things that broke after five years of neglect. I walk up the metal stairs, looking around for potential issues. 
There's nothing. The snipers weren’t lying.

A while later, my radio wakes up
“Four-Uncle-Alpha-Alpha to Four Uncle Alpha Janitor, report status.”
‘Second floor sweep underway, no traces of ketchup activity.’
There’s an audible sigh at the other way
“Rodrigo, you mopped around enough. Get to the burger king and get us something to eat for God’s sake, Geraldo is already becoming grumpy. And you know how he acts when he becomes grumpy.”
‘Oh, shit. Fine, I’ll get to it.’
I was mid-way through searching the western side of the floor, although there’s not much here. Derelict toy shops, purse resellers, sunglasses sellers, construction supply distributors, etc. There’s a lot of untouched gold in this.
Well, that’ll have to be left for later. I turn around, and jog to the food court.

Damn, this place has a lot of fast food chains. There’s the obligatory MickyD’s, some Arabic restaurants, some ‘Sushi lounges’/’Temakerias’ and the star of the show: An intact Burger King.
I get to the front desk and vault over, the original entrance to this place being hidden behind a service door. 
Looking around, I inspect every little inch of equipment there. I used to work at fast food before volunteering.
Patties and bread are still intact, being frozen and having more chemicals than pure antifreeze. Nuggets are also in a perfect condition, too.
Sadly all of the ice cream base expired. By about three years. Geraldo won’t have his milkshake today.
But then, I brace myself to look at the most horrifying section of the shop.
HOLY SHIT!
When sarge joked around about it, he probably didn’t expect for the deep fryer to be in an ***untouched*** state. It’s so clean that the store was probably frozen in time.
…
This will be fun.

I open one of the drawers under the oven, and pull out an entire jug of pristine cooking oil. I dump it in the deep fryer, and prepare the nuggers for a swim.
I fill the frying bin to the limit, and lower the processed chicken onto the oil. OH SHIT!
It wasn’t hot enough. Well, I'm not being paid for this.
I remove the greased bin from the oil and leave it to dry on top of the fryer. I then get six buns-
*CRASH!*
A loud tumbling sound comes from outside of the restaurant, scaring me to shit.
Dropping my perfectly stacked buns in a panic, I raise my pistol and point it at the food court. Initially, there seems to be nothing. Until a pair of pointy animal ears raise themselves behind a metal trash trolley
Training my pistol on it, the pair of ears keep raising themselves until a human-like head shows itself. Realizing I’m already alerted, it quickly hides behind it again.
‘You do a very bad job at stealth, you know that yeah?’
Silence follows, until I take a more direct approach
‘I already know you’re there. Show yourself, and put your hands up.’
I hear a small grunt, and not a moment too soon a pair of white hands shoot up. Slowly, the thing shows itself…
Oh. It’s one of those beastmen.

A decently-built, slightly short dude stands up. He has brown hair, with his canine ears blending perfectly. He’s wearing some peasant clothes, traditional on the other side; but it is very damaged. His pair of very nervous cyan eyes are trained on my gun.
‘What are you doing here? The Vol-Pats are on the other side of the city.’
The guy attempts to say something, but fails. All that come from him are gags and nervous coughs.
‘You affiliated with someone?’
He tries speaking once more, but to no avail. So he just shakes his head sideways
I slowly lower the gun, and the guy breathes way smoother now.
‘You smelled the food, didn’t you?’
I get a very slow nod.
Holstering my gun, I dip the frying bin into the now-hot oil.
‘Well, feel free to hang around then. My colleagues are outside, you’ll meet them later.’
Quickly, the dude walks over and leans on the balcony, watching me do the wagie work.
At least I have company. Even if he doesn't talk.

The nuggies are done! The sliders and bread are also unfrozen, ready for cooking.
What was it… Six cheeseburgers- No, seven with this guy; fifty nuggies… check. Enough french fries to eradicate the population of france? Check.
Sadly, no ketchup. It’s probably all expired anyways.

“So, where do you come from?”
I don’t expect a response, but trying to communicate anyways will make the wagie experience more bearable.
He looks at me, and grabs one of the paper ads that litter the balcony, and starts ‘writing’ with an invisible pen.
I open one of my grenade pouches, and pull out a small pen. I lightly throw it to him.
The beastman catches it mid-air, and starts writing down
Few seconds later he taps on the balcony and hands over a note
 - I used to live in an old village on the other side, called by you guys as “Rio Seguro”. Pretty small town, used to be quiet back in the day. 
‘Rio… seguro? Wait, don’t tell me…’
He nods, grinning
‘You saw *them*? The platoon?’
I get a thumbs up, and he relaxes onto the balcony.
‘Holy shit! I’ve always dreamed of seeing the Legendario, you know. Lucky bastard.’
He gestures for me to hand him back the piece of paper, and I oblige. He gets right back into writing.
Wait… why do I smell burnt? OH SHIT THE SLIDERS!

Okay so… If I remember correctly, it’s bun-meat-cheese-pickle… But that’s a little bit too poor for the boys. I’m going to stuff these with as much stuff as I can.
Bun, lettuce, meat, cheese, ketchup, fried bun, tomato, meat, cheese, bacon, pickle, bun. Perfect!
I’ll call this the… uh… Burger Town defender. Yeah, that’ll make Jorge happy. Damn COD.
I finish wrapping the first sandwich in the most gourmét paper available, just in time for the man to hand me the note back.
 - Yeah, the tanks were astounding. I assume you know the tale already, they went in, and saved the town. But what you don’t know is that I used to be Cecília’s neighbor, you know her right?
‘Cecília… Cecília… No I don’t.’
He sighs, pointing at the note again
 - In case you don’t know her, well, she was one of the women in the village that went with one of the tankers. I didn’t manage to meet the sergeant you guys all talk about, we all got evacuated in a rush. After getting evacuated, and you all dealing with the monsters out there, we rebuilt it. We even had our own power for a brief moment.

There’s nothing more on the note, just a few scribbles.
‘Your town sounds very nice. I used to live in a rural town, too. We didn’t get attacked or anything like that, but most of the able-bodied men were drafted.’
He frowns, and gets another paper ready.
‘Well, what are you even doing here?’
Once again, he gets ready to write, but I stop him before he could
‘You know what? Hold on that thought. I’m almost done with the food anyways.’

49...50! I didn’t lose a single nugger! That'sa surprise.
We generally lose a few to the inner deep fryer gods when doing big orders like this. 
All of the seven burgers are done and stuffed in one of those ‘to-go’ bags. I also readied two other bags, one stacked to the brim with french fries and the other one with two different nugget packages. One exclusively for Geraldo, and the other for the rest of us.
‘Well, stuff’s ready. You were probably going to tag along anyways, but, here is a Formal invitation to meet the rest of the squad.’
The guy snickers *very* strangely, and smiles
I put the packages onto the balcony and vault over, picking them up again and heading for the stairs

I’m walking up another set of frozen escalators, the guy practically shadowing me. My radio comes alive, breaking the silence
“Four-Uncle-Alpha-Papa to Four-Uncle-Alpha-Deliveryman. Is the package ready? We can smell it from here.”
I turn to the beast, and put the food in his hands, making eye contact the entire time.
‘Hold this for me while I answer the boys up there.’
He sheepishly nods, ears perking up to eavesdrop on me.
I grab my radio, and press the button
‘This is Uber eats, you have reached the Consumer Rights hotline. Glad you called now, it’s already done and is being shipped right to your doorstep. Hope you have a nice day! BEEP!’
The three of them are laughing their ass off above me, and Jorge’s wheezing echoes through the halls.
“Hah... yeah, you have a very good hotline, let me tell you that much. We’re waiting up here.”
‘Oh, and one thing.’
I look back, and surprisingly the guy is still following me on the staircase
‘I’ll bring company, four people wasn’t enough.’
“Rodrigo, what the fu-”
I turn off the radio and snicker to myself.
“RODRIGO!!!” A scream echoes
I glance to the guy behind me.
‘Oh! Where are my manners. Name’s Rodrigo.’
The guy looks at me, smiling. He gives me a thumbs up, and shrugs.
‘You can tell me your name later, when you’re not holding the food. Don'tcha worry.’

We’re now on the 5th ‘floor.It's more like a glamourous link to the enormous parking lot on the roof.  
I step out of the escalator, looking around
The floor is made out of a very white quartz, and it cracked a long time ago. White walls are tainted with a shade of green, and mold is practically everywhere. 
There’s a narrow corridor with an electric door in front of us, leading outside.
‘That’s where we need to go. Let’s move, they’re waiting.’
I start walking to the door, and surprisingly it still hasn’t stopped working. With a small jingle, it opens, revealing a pitch-black parking lot. The sun has already set.
Turning on my radio, I press the button
‘Jorge, where the fuck are y’all? I’m outside.’
I hear a “shh” to my left, along with some snickering by the boys
‘Damn, you all are really bad at hiding.’
I turn off the radio, and start walking at the rough direction of the sounds
Turning a sharp corner, I’m greeted with a mauser’s barrel pointed at my head
“Rodrigo?”
‘In the flesh.’
In an instant the barrel gets lowered and I see the familiar sunglasses worn by Jorge
“What the fuck were you thinking, dude?!”
‘I was making the food, as you guys wanted. And I had some company.’
The dude pops his head around the corner, right as I talk about him
Jorge looks at the guy, staring at him
‘Doesn't talk much, or rather, at all.’
“Hmmmm… I guess you can stick around. Follow me, please.”
Sarge turns around, and starts walking in a seemingly random direction, me and the other dude follow in behind. Jorge is crazy but sometimes he has some good ideas.

We walk for a solid minute, until Jorge reaches a white van parked awfully close to a wall. He opens the van’s door and enters it, disappearing in the darkness.
I enter the van, the dude following my steps like a shadow. The van’s back door is open, and leads to a slightly-lit camp, walled by other parked vehicles.
The three are sitting around an LED lamp, holding small metal rods over the lamp.
Idiots.
Sérgio looks at me, smiling. He announces:
“AAAAAND, WELCOME TO FORT MEIRELLES! Home to a humble population of four- Wait… five?” 
Geraldo and Sérgio stare at the guy, who is hiding behind me like a kid would.
‘I guess?’ 
All of the eyes are on the beastman, and he nervously sighs, shaking his head sideways
‘Yeah, five. Now, please continue! I want to know which entertaining activities there are.’
“Well, glad you asked!” Sérgio continues cheerfully “We have, Wind Marshmallows! Professionally cooked by our resident Chef, Geraldo!”
The massive man removes the metal ‘stick’ from near the lamp, and mimics biting on a marshmallow affixed to the rod.
“You still haven’t gotten to the supermarket yet, Rodrigo, so we are having to improvise until you get our groceries tomorrow.” Sérgio continues after the amazing acting of Geraldo
‘Did I get promoted to “Squad Deliveryman”?’
I get an unanimous “yes” from the three
‘Damn it. This guy will help me though.’
I point to my back, the guy still behind me. His head is popping out from my side.
“Sure, you get a new pair of arms. Welcome to the team, uhh…” Jorge says
A short silence follows
‘I don’t know man, he doesn't talk and I haven't caught his name yet.’
“Eh, don’t worry about it. We have enough paper and the night is still young. What did you bring for us, Deliveryman?”
I tap the guy’s back, and he hands me the packages
‘Well, Seven custom cheeseburgers I have named “Burger Town Defender”, to honour your favourite piece of Media you are so keen to reference me sarge.’
Jorge smiles, and gestures me to continue
‘I also hauled enough fries to feed a child for a day, and 50 nuggets. Sadly, 30 of them are for Geraldo. And I couldn’t get drinks.’
“Ah, don’t worry about it. We have enough powdered juice to get ourselves kidney stones anyways. Come on, sit.”
I walk over to the circle, and take an empty spot for myself. The beastman behind me sits by my side, closely. Maybe a little bit too close for comfort.

The dude beside me tugs on my arm, mimicking writing something.
I hand him my pen, and he starts writing on one of the leaflets he packed
Where he stored the leaflet is not my issue.
‘Hey, Sarge. When are we gonna be able to clean the capybara blood?’
He thinks for a second
“Well, HQ Believes the horde has bigger issues to worry about in the south, so there shouldn’t be many people nearby. And, we are relaxed! There shouldn’t be an issue cleaning off the blood, but we may need to apply it again later.”
Sérgio opens his backpack, and pulls out a package with four ‘baby wipes’ packages. He rips it open, and tosses each one of us one. Except the beastman.
We all frantically tear the packages open, removing the cotton wipes and cleaning ourselves. 
A few minutes later, and I’m as clean as I can get. There’s showers in this mall, but we aren’t going to risk running water through five-year old unmaintained pipes. 
There’s a few tissues remaining in my package, and I hand it over to the dude beside me. Guy’s roughed up, and has some wounds on his arm
He hands me the note
 - Sorry for not telling you my name before, I just got really interested in telling you about the town. My name is Carol.
‘Carol?’
Sarge guesses “I think it was a misspelling of the name Carlos, and he didn’t notice.”
‘Yeeeeeeah, that’s a more fitting name I guess.’
The guy sighs, looking at me with a poker face
‘Anyways, we should get on with actually eating. It’s getting kinda late and I need to crash.’

Jorge gets up and grabs the hamburger bag. He gives each one of the “normal” people one, and hands the other three to Geraldo. He does the same for the fries and nuggies, spreading them around “equally”.
Sarge opens one of his pouches, and whips out two small packets
“It’s time. Sérgio, hand me the jug, please.”
The corporal opens his backpack, pulling out a two-liter plastic bottle filled to the brim with water. He passes it to the sergeant.
Jorge tears open both packets at once, a small amount of white powder spilling. He opens the bottle and dumps both packets in. After, he closes the bottle and shakes it, turning the clear water into a very purple drink.
“Rape juice, anyone?”
Me, Sérgio and Geraldo get our canteen cups out. Sarge goes around filling each one up.
(Carlos) is staring at my cup, practically drooling over the liquid.
‘I guess you want some?’
He nods in excitement
Fuck, I’ll have to break the tradition of communitary grape juice. Whatever.
‘Well, I wasn’t going to drink. You can have it.’
I pass the mug to the beastman, and he downs all of the liquid within one second.
“And there’s the reason why he sticks to you like glue, Rodrigo.” Jorge speaks, Geraldo and Sérgio laugh.

I finished my meal. It isn’t very filling, but has enough calories to sustain my basic human needs for two days. This mission isn’t so bad after all.
It could use some ice cream, though.
“So, where are you going to sleep Carlos?” Jorge inquiries
(Carlos) slowly points to the van we entered camp from
Sérgio says “We’ll not let you sleep like an animal, man.” He pauses to inhale deeply
“You can sleep in my tent. It even has enough space for four.”
Haha, I already know what he’s planning.
The beastman’s ears fold, and he looks at me, tugging my arm
Jorge and Geraldo start laughing “So he’s really a dog, huh?”
I loudly sigh, and get up
‘I don’t even need to say it.’
The guy smiles excitedly, something wagging behind him.
‘I’ll have to uh… get my rifle outta my pants first. You can enter after.’

FUCK. I KNEW I SHOULD’VE PACKED ANOTHER SET OF CLOTHES!
All of these survivalist cunts keep saying ‘oh, pack more socks than clothes’ and ‘oh you’ll be able to weather it off with one pair’
Guess what. My socks are dry, and my boxers are ruined. I’ll have to go shopping tomorrow...
Motherfucking non-reciprocating bolt. At least rifle itself is pretty fine.
*tap* *tap*...
Someone is knocking on my tent’s door.
‘Oh, I'm almost done. Hold up.’
I fold up my ruined underwear, and zip up the pants
Wow, this is comfortable…
…
Oh yeah
I open the tent’s doors, the dude practically jumping in
It’s a ‘two-person’ tent, but is more like ‘one and a half’. The space is going to be really cramped.
The “floor” of the tent is an air mattress, fitting snugly inside. Geraldo filled me it, the three of them really did a good job in the camp
‘Alright so, in my tent there’s only one rule: No homo.’
“What’s no homo?” 
***IT*** replies in a feminine voice
WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUCK

‘... since WHEN can you talk?’
“Uh… since we’ve met?”
I just sit in my corner of the tent in silence
“I’m just anxious, okay?”
the fuck
I just stare at *it*, right in the eyes
“What?”
‘...what the fuck are you?’
There’s this silence. Even back in my teen days it didn’t get this bad.
“A… vulpine?”
‘...’
“Did you think I was...”
I sigh, and rub my eyes
A tear forms on her cheek, and she lies face-down onto the mattress
‘I- Look, you didn’t talk. I couldn’t know.’
No response.
My training did not prepare me to deal with woman moments.
…
I slowly extend my arm out, patting her on the back
‘I’ll have to get some new clothes tomorrow. You should get some, too.’
a muffled “suuuure” is received by my ears
…
‘If this serves to help, you do look fine.’
“really?” Her ears perk up, face still planted onto the mattress
‘I just didn’t say much before, else it’d be gay.’
“huuuuh.”

I should’ve really asked my dad for tips back at highschool.

Waaaait, this could work.
Grabbing my backpack , I open it and pull out a small inflatable pillow
Sarge told us to pack for urban camping, and my mom always told me bringing your own pillow is better than using a hotel’s.
I silently blow inside of the pillow, filling it with air. Once it’s full I tap on her shoulder.
She pulls her face from the air mattress, and looks at me with a *very* forced neutral face
I extend my arm, thing in hand
‘Pillow?’
“...what?”
‘Pillow.’
she grabs it from my hand, and lays on her back.
‘I’m sorry for what happened, okay? We talk more tomorrow.’
She relaxes onto the mattress, closing her eyes
“Forgiven.”
‘Have a nice night.’
“you too.”
I lay down on the other side of the mattress, facing the tent’s wall. I rolled up my vest, and it is serving as an impromptu pillow until I can get myself one tomorrow.
Fucking women.

K-DAY +1558
1 Day, Sixteen hours for Operation Start
0800

Ah… fuck. I slept like a brick.
Looking to my side, I see her still sleeping peacefully
Damn, I’m at least not the heaviest sleeper.
I silently put my pistol in my pocket, along with my radio. Stealthily opening the tent’s door, I look outside. 
The sun is very bright today, the skies are blue and there are barely any clouds around.
The other three are already awake, and eating breakfast in the circle
Jorge notices me, and gestures for me to get over there
Tip-toeing myself out of the tent, I quickly put my boots on and go hang out with the boys
The three made Digger Porridge, which is a very disgusting-sounding way of using all of the cassava flour we get issued in our rations. Today’s flavor iiiis… 
MRE Red Berry jam with sugar-coated gelatins! Yummy.
I sit down on one of the empty spaces, and Geraldo passes me an already pre-served GI plate
“So, how was sleeping with another man?” Jorge asks with a snicker
‘It may surprise you all, but it ain’t a man.’ I take a spoonful of the field porridge.
Damn, it actually tastes good
“What?”
‘Yeah. She spoke. Her name’s actually Carol, not carlos.’
“Sheesh. Sérgio over here was already drooling at the thought of a *traveco* ” Jorge pokes sérgio with his elbow
“EY! Fuck you. I was just being courteous” the Corporal answers
“Rodrigo, My man. You’re very lucky.” Geraldo says, tapping my shoulder
‘What do you mean?’
“I’d kill for a catch like your’s” He responds, shoving a big spoonful in his mouth
BITCH
'What?'
“The girl.”
‘Gerado, what the fuck are you talking about?’
He stays in silence for a second, before grinning
“I don’t know man, it’s just my mind playing games. Now, go on and enjoy your meal.”
‘Thank you for the gourmét meal, by the way.’
He shrugs it off, and we get back to eating

Fuck man, this is good.
I scrape the remainders of the food on the plate. One last spoonful is all that is left
Slowly raising it off the plate, I prepare myself to appreciate the last bit of porridge…
*PING!*
Someone flicks my spoon, it’s contents splattering over the cracked asphalt
Motherfucker.
Jorge is laughing his ass off, while sérgio and geraldo are looking at him in pure horror
‘Okay cunt. You’re on the list now.’
“Wait, I *WASN’T* on it before?”
‘Nope.’
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
Rumbling comes from my tent, and the familiar set of ears show themselves out of the entrance
“Look who’s awake!” Jorge speaks
Carol gets out of the tent, holding a bar of white chocolate
BITCH, PLEASE. THAT’S MY COPING MECHANISM-
“Morning!” she exclaims, walking over and sitting beside me
The three stare at her, in both shock and terror
Dealing with a woman is now a shared problem
‘You know that is mine, yeah?’
“There weren’t any labels. Now, who wants some chocolate?”
I instinctively reach for the bar, but contemplate possible outcomes and back down.
I don’t want a redo of yesterday.
‘Fine. But you all are owing me a bar of Swiss when we get out of this shithole.’
“Fine by me.” Geraldo answers
The woman breaks the perfectly-crafted and molded bar of chocolate into five equal sections. 
“Talkative now, ain’t you *Carlos*?” Jorge says
“I don’t like talking to strangers.” She stops mid-sentence to take a bite out of her piece “You guys “ain’t” strangers now.”
“But… you haven’t been with us for even a full day yet.” Sérgio says
“But you guys gave me shelter, and free food. What’s not to love?” She responds
“Well, I wouldn’t call the situation we’re in love-able.”

‘Uh-uh. Sarge, what’s on the menu today?’
“Nothing much, we’ll have the next day and…” He looks at his watch “Fourteen hours to slack around and enjoy, counting the two-hour Pre-Operation briefing and set-up.”
He pauses to take a swig of his canteen
“The one thing I ask of you, Rodrigo, is to go down to the supermarket and get us some actual food. I know you could go back to the ‘King and make us some stuff, but fast food is only good for a day or two.”
Yet again, he pauses. This time to take a bite of the chocolate.
“Preferably some rice and grains like oat flakes. Breakfast for tomorrow won’t be improv, I actually want quality.”
‘Uh, sarge. I doubt it’ll have good-quality rice this late-’
“You’ll find something, Rodrigo. I believe in you.”
I return the now-empty plate to Geraldo, and get up, wrapping my intact chocolate piece in some plastic.
‘Well, I’ll have to go get myself some clothes. Socks and all that jazz.’
I start walking, and Carol quickly gets up and runs after me
“Hey, don’t leave me behind!”
Oh no. God help me.

I get to the escalator, and start walking down. The beastwoman following me like a flea.
‘You know, messing around in people’s stuff is kind of uncool.’
I look back, and her smug expression changes to shock
“I… I thought you were joking when you said about the chocolate. I’m sorry.”
I smile, and respond
‘It’s honestly fine, you couldn’t know better. And, most importantly, you didn’t have stuff for yourself.’
She exhales in relief, but I interrupt her by dramatically coughing
‘Today, we’ll change that. First off, you need to get some ***DRIP***.’
“Well, uh… What’s a drip?”
‘Haha, you’ll discover it yourself.’

We step off of the escalator, and move around the third floor
This is an average commercial floor. Once big, well-maintained skylights were peppered around these corridors. Nowadays they’re no more.
I see one of the big-franchise clothes stores at the end of a hallway
There’s a big poster on top of the store, A & C written on it.
It’s doors are closed, but it’s nothing that a few kicks won’t solve.
‘There it is.’
“Is what?”
‘The store. Don’t you see it?’
I point at it while walking 
“Oh, that. What about it?”
‘Well, that’s what is called a Clothes Store. It sells pieces of clothing.’
I tug lightly on her brown tunic’s collar
‘That you direly need changed.’

I get to the store’s door. It is a glass double-door, held shut by a flimsy lock. Supposedly, it would have been see-through, but it had degraded and the glass has changed into a cloudy brown.
‘If I were you, I would stand away for a second.’
Grabbing my pistol, I remove the magazine and pull back on the slide. A .45 bullet jumps out of the gun, and I grab it mid-air.
With the empty gun, I whack it at the door’s lock. A loud *CRACK* comes from inside the lock.
It worked! I reload the gun, and pass it to the woman behind me
‘Mind holding this for a second, please?’
Instantly, she nods and grabs the gun
Channeling all my rage, I kick the door
*SNAP!*
It violently opens, metal splinters spread around in the shop
And, with that, I walk inside.

“WOW! That was loud.”
‘And that is how you open one of these fancy shopping doors. Just make sure nobody is nearby to witness it or you’ll be in trouble.’
Carol extends her hand out, pistol in hand. I grab my possession out of her hand and put it back in my pocket
The store’s air is stale. The walls are painted in a dark grey, and the floor is made out of black marble. There are several metal racks, with clothing hanging from them, ready to be picked up.
A small corridor is to our left. A sign hangs from a small nail above it, “TRYOUT”
‘First things first, let me explain how it works. You pick anything you like and want, and try it out in one of the cubicles over there.’
I point at the corridor.
“And?”
‘Usually, you would pick the clothes you like the most and pay for it. But, as you can imagine, we don’t need to pay today.’
She nods and looks at me, as if I needed to order the “go” command.
‘What? That's it. You can have fun now.’
I barely finish the sentence, and Carol darts deeper into the store. I lose sight of her within a few seconds.
At least I'll be alone to deal with my business.

What was my size again…
I'm near one of the cashier locations. Usually, in a clothes store here, the owners make a BIG zig-zag line filled with products on either side, eventually leading to the checkout. The products are overpriced, but very high quality. 
Luckily, I don’t need to pay.
Underwear at these locations are créme-de-la-créme, even more if it’s pre-packaged.
Oh damn, they have klein-calvin here!
I pick up one of the packets, size L. Very high-quality silk, and the elastic is simply perfect. It comes with three boxers inside, so it should cover most of the days I'll be here.
Hmm, maybe I’ll pick another one up, it wouldn’t hur-
“RODRIGO! Can you come here for a second?”
Oh. Oh no.
My worst fears are coming to life. I’ll have to go clothes shopping with a woman.

‘I’ll be there in a second!’
Fuck. Fuck. Shit.
I’ll need backup for this.
I pull out my radio, and decrease the volume on the speakers
‘Four… Uncle… Alpha… Papa... I am in immediate need of assistance.’ I quietly say over the net
“Four Uncle Alpha Papa to UberEats Deliveryman. What is of need? Over.” Sarge replies
‘Jorge, don’t laugh, but… How do I shop for clothes?’
A muffled yell echoes through the corridors, followed by three distinct laughs
20 long seconds pass until I get a response
“Uh… fuck, we don’t know. Rodrigo, you’ll have to improvise.”
‘Improvise how, sir?! Don’t you understand the stakes at hand?’
“What stakes, soldier?”
‘...my brain.’
“Oh shit! Okay, try going for Hawaiian shirts if your opinion is requested. Say it’s your ‘style’ and you keep seeing them in western movies.”
‘You sure that will work, Sarge?’
“If it doesn't, you’ll still be able to shrug it off. Finish the fight, Rodrigo. Good luck.”
Jorge fakes interference, and the radio goes silent.

I hear a snicker coming from a few ailes behind me
Damn it.
‘You heard nothing.’
“ARE YOU SERIOUS!?” She shouts, her laughs muffled by the tons of clothing between us
‘LOOK. LAST TIME I WANTED TO BUY CLOTHES I WAS FRESH OUT OF TG!’
“And how long was that? Ten years ago?”
‘Bi-... Listen, it’s none of your business.’
Before she can respond, I shove the two sets of boxers in one of my cargo pockets and make my way to the aisle she is at

Turning the corner, I see Carol wearing a semi-buttoned up yellow’n’white Hawaiian shirt, with a white shirt underneath and some jeans shorts. 
A wagging tail is poking out from her silhouette, and she looks at me smiling
...
Damn son.
‘Uh, what did you need?’
“Guess! Does it look good?”
She gently spins around. 
‘I do not think I’m qualified to opine, but that’s decent.’
“Oh.” She stays silent for a few seconds, pouting.
“Do you not like it?”
‘It fits you well.’
“You’re still not convincing me.”
...what does she even want?
‘Then how can I convince you? I’m not a fashion expert.’
“I don’t know. It’s comfy but I don’t know if it’s good for me.”
God. I now regret not memorizing my mom’s compliments to my wardrobe choices.
‘Weeeell, it looks… fresh?’
“Hmm… fresh...?”
‘Something that you would wear when it’s hot outside, or when going to the beach.’
“What’s a beach?”
It’s not even been a day, man. Fuck.

K-DAY +1558
1 Day, Twelve hours for Operation Start
12:00


I’m on an escalator, going up to the floor ‘Fort Meirelles’ is stationed at. 
After the clothes store, we passed through some other establishments.
My pockets are full with a random assortment of underwear and jewelry.
The jewels are gifts for my mom, back home. 
She always gets worried, and ever since I was called to the PELOPES her hair has become grey in record time.
I picked up a few rings and a 24-karat necklace. The thing is thinner than dental floss, but it should make a great gift.
She always had a thing for fine accessories. Sadly, I won’t be able to get her some good earrings, all of them had oxidised from being left out in the open.
My dad will also get something cool. A Six-pack of Klein Calvin silk underwear.
Knowing my old man, he’ll like it more than if I gave him a watch or something more ‘fitting’.

I wonder what they’re up to. Last time I met them was, like… six months ago?
Damn, time flies fast.
I’ve managed to keep some resemblance of contact with them though. Our squad’s express mail system is the only reason why. 
Some high-ranker probably realized that the troops that were most likely to die should at least be able to message their loved ones quickly.
The most recent letter my mom sent me just talked about how quiet the cities are. In the initial years after the happening, it was mayhem worse than Rio de Janeiro ‘16. But now that the Juntas have stabilized the situation there’s almost no crime.
Never in a million years I thought Brazil would be a peaceful place to live in.
My dad used to constantly talk about his ‘glory days’ as a teenager, back when the Military still had control of the country. 
“Back in my day, we could just play on the street without a worry in the world. There weren’t many cars, and almost no crime against young people. It was good.” 
I still remember him uttering the same exact words, every single opportunity that he found.
I miss both of them so much.

“Uh, Rodrigo?" Carol says, tapping me on my shoulder
Oh. I daydreamed again, and forgot the escalators were out of power. 
‘Ah, sorry. I got carried away.’
I start walking up the stairs.
The leech is behind me, now sporting a pair of similar aviator glasses as mine and the most expensive backpack available at Snamsoite.
And some pretty *chique* boots too, not gonna lie.
I honestly don’t know what is wrong with her. She hasn’t stopped following me at all.
Maybe I can ask Geraldo about it. Sarge kept telling me he knows how to decipher womanese.
Hopefully that is true.

Eventually, we get to the floor and take the parking lot exit. And continue on towards the camp.
Reaching the white van ‘gate’ to the camp, somebody inside opens it up before I could lay my hand on the handle
“Welcome back, shoppers! How was the expe…” Jorge greets us, stopping mid-sentence glance at Carol’s outfit.
“Daaaaaaayum, lookin’ nice Carlos!” He says, waving us in.
I jump inside of the van, and enter the camp via the side-door. The beast is still following close
“EY BOYS! Somebody decided to finally get some fresh ***drip***!” Jorge yells, chuckling
Geraldo whistles in a **suggestive** way, and Sérgio slaps the big man’s back, wheezing.
Carol is hiding behind me, as is becoming custom. 
Nuh-uh. Not today.
I gently shove her to the front, and grin. 

‘Now, you are formally welcome to the First Squad of the Fourth Volunteer Corps!’
The woman is acting as if she was flash-frozen. Eyes are staring back at me with an expression of pure, unadulterated confusion
‘What are you waiting for? Introduce yourself to the boys!’
The three of them are gasping for air in the ground by now, laughing their asses off
“B-but I already did-”  Carol struggles to talk, her usual calm tone of voice changed to an almost unrecognizable panic. Ears are folded, and her tail is firmly tucked between the legs. Cheeks as red as a chili pepper.
‘Not looking like a true member of the squad, no you did not. SÉRGIO!’
The bearded man struggles to get up and reach his backpack. Once he does, though, he quickly throws an olive drab chest rig into my arms.
I grab it with my right hand
‘Now as we noticed, you intend to stick around, don’t you?’
I get a struggling nod from the woman in front of me.
‘HAHA! I was not proven wrong! Turn to me and receive your ARMY-ISSUE EQUIPMENT, SOLDIER!’
The three grown-up men are rolling on the ground like kids, absolutely losing it.

It takes a while for the woman to unfreeze herself, but eventually the girl turns around, just to get a chest rig put onto her arms
‘Sérgio, prepare the paperwork. We have gotten a new recruit into our squad.’
I dramatically point to Geraldo, and the beast of a man goes to my tent and grabs the IA2 from inside
‘Currently, we are short on weapons. So you will have to make do with my prized possession.’
Geraldo practically shoves the carbine onto her hands
‘Take care of her well, and she won’t disappoint. I suppose you don’t know how a gun works, so let our dear Sarge take care of the situation.’
Jorge regains control over his body and motions both of us to take a seat in the circle
I gently push her forward into the circle, and we both take a seat

“Your ARRRRMY ISSUE EQUIPMENT is called the IMBEL IA2. A beautiful piece of engineering from the Itajubá Factory and one of the greatest creations of your new HOMELAND!!”
The man engages into drill sergeant mode, and talks as if he was disciplining somebody. The woman is practically melting into the ground, shocked.
Sarge notices this, and decides to explain the change of attitude.
“Don’t mind the screaming. You’re with us now, and you gotta get accustomed to it when you get to base. Nothing personal.”
Carol nods, and slowly sits upright on the pavement.
“Anyways,” He coughs for dramatic effect. “This SEXY example of Brazilian design comes at a sad failure! It consumes 7.62x51 as it’s only food.”

He pauses to grab his Itajubá G43, which was laid behind him.
“A WOMAN’S CARTRIDGE! USED BY WEAK MEN IN COMPARISON TO THE **POWER** DISHED OUT BY THIS!”
Racking the gun, he shows it to the perplexed recruit.
“7 9 2 BY MOTHERFUCKING 57 MILLIMITERS OF PURE EVIL! This cartridge…”
He charges the gun yet again. A bullet gets thrown out of the rifle, and Sarge catches it mid-air.
Continuing, Jorge holds the bullet between two fingers
“Also lovingly called 8mm Germano, this BEAST was designed by a great man, Germano Vivido. But I doubt you could handle this power without much training, so your currently assigned weapon will have to suffice.”


He loads the loose round back into the wooden rifle, slinging it onto his back.
“Corporal Sérgio and Weapons Specialist Geraldo, please show the recruit how to utilize their equipment, and tell her about the mission and basic tactics. DON’T FORGET THE SACRED RULES!”
Both soldiers look at eachother, and get up.
“How could we forget about those, Sarge? Anyways, get up PRRRRIVATE Carolina!”
Sérgio responds. The woman quickly glances at me, giving *that* look, before getting up and following the two.
Sadly, you don’t get any mercy. That was thrown out of the window with the chocolate! Hah, she’ll fit right in eventually. 
“Rodrigo, come with me. We need to grab some groceries.”
‘Of course SIR!’ I respond, throwing myself up from the asphalt and going back into the shopping mall.


“HAHA! Oh my GOD dude, did you see her face? Fucking priceless!” Jorge laughs while we both go down the escalators to the first floor
‘You couldn’t even pay an actor to get that reaction! Man, that was pure gold.’
“Mhm. If command witnessed that, she would’ve become the mascot of the unit within a split second. Good thing the captain decided to stay in his tent for this operation, as he always does.” He reflects, with a grin on his face.
‘You’re still jealous about the sniper team’s reputation?’
“Guess. She’ll be the perfect thing to differentiate us from the other platoons! The regular units will think ‘Oh, it’s that squad with the vulpine’ instead of ‘Look at those four retards!’ It’ll be beautiful. A perfect tool to impress!”
I let out a chuckle, and respond
‘Can’t say you’re wrong. Honestly, I’m also tired of getting those strange looks at the canteen!’
We both laugh a bit
‘Still, she’ll be more useful than just the squad’s mascot. I barely even realized somebody was watching me back at the ‘King.’
“A little bit of training goes a long way, Rodrigo. Those instincts combined with a little bit of man-induced madness and Private Carolina will shape up to be great!”
I smile, and the conversation dies down until we reach the first floor.

We walk out of the escalator and continue down a corridor. The Carrefour should be just a few minutes away.
‘So, did you get any words from Command?’
“Not directly, but *Spergio* detected some radio traffic from HQ. We’ll be expecting an airdrop tomorrow morning, but the cavalry will only arrive after 0:00
‘Darn it. Weren’t they supposed to arrive tomorrow at noon? To set up the FOB?’
“Yeah they were. But you know how the air cav acts, and they requested a few minutes extra for preparation.”
‘And let me guess. Those extra minutes turned into twelve goddamn hours of delay?’
“You can thank Captain Marreta for giving us a few minutes of extra hell! Isn’t he generous?”
‘I suppose so, Sir.’
Jorge sighs
“Look man, tomorrow’s gonna be a hard one. There’s intel the necromancer knows about our incursion into the city, and he’ll be sweeping Manaus to try and find us.”
‘Damn. Any good news?’
“Kind of. The only good thing is that our drones caught footage of them doing this in the northern part of the city, going south. We still have some time left.”
‘Alright, and I can presume you already told the rest about this, right?’
“Mhm. And they won’t forget to brief the new recruit.”

There it is! The carrefour.
Once bustling with lights and middle-aged men, now degraded to a shadow of its former self. Most of the lights are off, and no karens roam the aisles.
I can’t say if that is a good or bad thing.
‘Ey sarge, what are you thinking of?’
“You’ll like it very much. Do you remember BCT?”
‘Vividly. The drill sergeant yelling at us while we were driving some forklifts, some god-awful soup- Wait, don’t tell me…’
“I guess I don’t need to, my friend. In case you didn’t get it already, I’m a little bit salty with the heliboys. So we’ll treat them to a good, filling and tasty Army Sopão!”
‘Oh dear. They’re fucked.’
“Completely rich in iron and containing chicken, cow, pork, possum, horse and Snakes! That’ll serve as training for Caroline too. So don’t get your bollocks off.”
‘Bro, what?’
I don’t get a solid answer, just a wink from my sergeant before he takes off inside the supermarket. 
Cunt’s more cryptic than a fucking woman sometimes. Damn.

I carefully enter the semi-dark establishment and bring up my flashlight
This mass-franchise market is organized in the same way as every single other carrefour. Once you enter, you’re greeted by the hygienics section.
Shortly behind it and a few sections to the left, is the ‘Frozen foods’ aisle along with the canned goods. 
Well, I have this small feeling Sarge will be there. Choosing the most horrid cuts of meat for his masterpiece.
God help the helicopter men, because we won’t.
I sprint for a few seconds, until I reach the frozen foods section.
And look who is arm-deep into a still running freezer? Jorge.
I walk up to him, my arrival not causing him any surprise
‘Uh, Jorge. What stuff are you thinking of using in the soup?’
“Y’know. The classics. Pig feet, chicken heads and feet, beans, manioc flour, mountain oysters…”
‘Christ, sarge. Can’t you get a little easy on them? They just wanted to sleep mo-’
“Rodrigo. They won’t even feel or taste the ingredients. Think of it as a thick feijoada, my friend. The amount of FUCKING SODIUM these bitches will consume won’t let them.”
Oh jeez, he’s really lost it.
“Look bro. You four won't be forced to eat this shit.”

‘Doens’t change ass. What if they just refuse to eat?’
The man in front of me chuckles, while pulling an entire frozen chicken out of the freezer
“You really think they’ll refuse free food, private? I doubt they even get scheduled rationing! Haha.”
There’s awkward silence for a few minutes, while he shoves a bunch of random cuts of meat into his backpack
“You know Rodrigo. I got sidetracked about this soup stuff. Can you get some beans and rice for me? Geraldo wants to make traditional *feijão tropeiro* for tonight.”
‘Of course, great leader Jorge. Your wish is my comm-’
I crack up alongside him. Keeping up the private act is very hard when your superior is also your friend.
‘Ah, anyways. Tell me something… Why do you love that rifle so much?’
It’s as if a light was switched on inside of Sarge’s brain. All of the grumpiness and evil in his eyes were gone in a single sentence.
Replaced by an even more insane look. Dear God.
“Oh MAN, you don’t get how happy I am that you asked. It all started back in the glorious 50’s…”



14:00


“...And that, my friend, is how my ol’ grandpa killed the most prominent drug trafficker of the sixties! Armed with only a knife and this BEAUTY that I hold!” 

Oh thank the Lord, Jorge’s done with that rant. It has been two full hours since I asked that forsaken question about his grandpa.
We are already going back up the escalator, currently almost at the fifth floor. My superior’s got his backpack filled to the brim with meat, beans, rice, salt and pepper.
In a sign of goodwill, he only assigned me to be carrying the twelve-liter pot we got from the store on my back. And a tent for the recruit. What can only be described as “aluminum and chinese steel’s illegitimate bastard” is cast into this heavy sub-par cooking utensil.

‘My guy, now I understand why they selected you to be the sergeant, hahaha.’
“Of course! Why would Command pick anybody but me?! I’m the craziest SOB of the entire corp! You three have the LUXURY to be considered-”
‘Four.’ I interrupt his initial speech, a sign of an incoming rant. Not again.
This catches him by surprise and he replies with a less-energetic tone of voice.
“Yeah, four, I forgot about the newbie. You four have the luxury to be my friends, that’s all.”
‘How sweet. You should’ve said this infront of everyone else, I’m SURE Sérgio would appreciate it-’
“AW HELLLL NO! If he even caught WIND of this shit, he wouldn’t leave my tent alone!”
We continue on to Fort Meirelles laughing our asses off.

Jorge opens the van ‘entrance’ into the outpost, and we’re greeted with one of the most incredible sights ever.
Two idiots are vaulting and running over parked cars, in what seems like a competition. Imagine parkour, but you take all of the cool movements out of it.
“Dear GOD! What the absolute FUCK are you two thinking of?!” Jorge
The pair jump off from their cars and face Jorge. It's Geraldo and Caroline.
Geraldo’s wheezing, out of breath, and sits down near a sedan. The woman on the other hand, is more energetic than a dog and promptly goes into parade position, saluting with a big smile on her face. It’s cute, but...
H-How the hell did she learn that so fast?

“Obstacle… course… Sir!” Geraldo manages to put together a response between breaths
“OVER LOCKED CARS?! You realize if ONE of them activates the alarm, this is all over! WE’RE STILL IN A MISSION GOD DAMN IT!”
Jorge pauses to point at the shopping mall
“YOU REALIZE THERE’S A FUCKING FITNESS STORE INSIDE THERE, RIGHT?! EQUIPPED WITH OBSTACLES?!”
Geraldo tries to defuse the situation with a “Yes but” and is promptly cut off.
"FOR GOD’S SAKE! HAVE SOME COMMON SENSE! Ugh, at least you and Sérgio managed to drill the recruit into place. So good job on that.”
The weapons specialist breathes in relief, slowly pulling himself up from the pavement
“If you were in my place, sarge? You’d go insane from the amount of energy this thing has. Crazy stuff.” He taps the recruit’s back, and continues “Now, let’s get back to camp. Those beans won’t cook themselves.”


*pssst*
...
*PSSSST*
ugh… who’s-
***PSSSSSSSSST***
‘five minutes… please.’
…
*ZZZZZZZZT*

The loud noise of a zipper snaps me back to reality as I look to my tent’s door
“HEEEEEY Sleepyhead!” A very loud voice pierces my eardrums.
What once was a very tightly shut canvas tent is now wide open, with a slim silhouette contrasting with the dark outside.
I can’t make out anything from it other than a pair of light cyan eyes…
Oh god. It 's her.
‘uuuuugh, what do you want?’
“Nothing, really. Other than informing you that the food’s done.”
I push myself off of the sleeping bag and sit, getting a better view.

She’s squatting at the tent’s entrance, looking directly at me with those… fffucking excited eyes.
Vest on, rifle in-hand and with a pair of aviators on her head
‘Atleast you aren’t wearing those damn glasses at night.’
“Hah, you really think I lack basic knowledge? Sérgio gave me a lecture this entire afternoon.”
Dear lord… I can just imagine what kinds of knowledge the corporal drilled into her head.

I reach to my side and grab my vest, quickly putting it on. Luckily I decided to sleep with my fatigues.
‘Lemme just tell you Carol, if you wanna survive around these parts? You gotta learn how to god-damn knock on a door. Even more when somebody’s not presentable’
She instantly responds with a small chuckle, followed by a smile.
“Don’t worry, you look good enough with just your suit. Haha.”
What the hell? Who taught-
…
I need to have a talk with Sérgio. This is too far, you don’t mess around like that.
…
‘What time is it anyways? I vividly remember telling jorge to wake me up at fiv-’
“It’s eight o’clock. Guess who he assigned to take care of you?”
oh nooooooo


20:00
1 Day, Four hours for Operation Start.

‘Then why didn’t you wake me up at five? I was supposed to just take a quick siesta nap.’
“Honestly? You looked too…”
Carol snorts before continuing, placing a hand in front of her mouth
“Too cute.”
‘***SÉRGIO!!!!***’ I shout from the top of my lungs and immediately after the distinct laughter of three men emanate from a small distance away.
Rapidly barging out of my sleeping bag, I poke my head out of the tent to look at the three comedians, the trio currently having a breakdown on the asphalt.
They’re sitting in their circle, classic.
‘REALLY? OH, THAT’S FUNNY ISN’T IT?!’

I feel a hand being put on my shoulder
“You know, Rodrigo. I didn’t think a man like you would have such…” *lip smack*~ “vulgar reactions.”
In response, I turn my head to the private beside me.
She has a shit-eating grin on her now-red face and the pair of aviators is covering her eyes.
‘Oh fuck off you all.’
I gently shove the arm away and get up, walking towards the circle.