Ander stared at the bite on his shoulder, a cruel reminder that his life hung by a thread. The wound burned, but what consumed him most was fear.
"We can't stay here," he panted, pushing Josh and Alicia toward the door. "I have to find my mom."
Josh and Alicia exchanged a look, paralyzed by shock. Everything was happening too fast.
"We need to treat your wound, maybe it was just a scratch," Alicia said, trying to sound hopeful.
"Yeah! It was probably just that," Josh added, attempting to clean the blood.
But Ander wasn't listening. He walked down the stairs, ignoring the pain.
In his mind, there was only one thought: get home.
"Find your families. I have to go for my mother," Ander said.
Josh and Alicia ran after him, refusing to leave him alone.
"We're not leaving you, you're hurt!" Josh shouted.
The streets were chaos: screams, fires, and people fleeing in every direction.
They dodged bodies and shadows, moving quickly. Luckily, Ander's house was only a few blocks away.
His heart pounded, not only from the fear of the bite but from the terror of imagining something had happened to his mother.
If that thing got in… it means there are more all over the city, he thought anxiously.
He pushed open the door to his house, hoping to find her. But what greeted him was an unsettling silence.
The house was empty, no sign of his mother.
"Mom? Are you here?" His voice echoed through the rooms, unanswered.
Anxiety consumed him.
He looked around: everything was in order, just as she usually left it. That only meant one thing… she had gone out intending to return soon.
Passing by the hallway mirror, he stopped. The bite on his left shoulder reminded him his fate was sealed. There was no known cure for the infection… and he knew it.
"This can't be happening…" he murmured, staring at his reflection in despair.
His eyes, full of anguish, revealed the truth: time was running out.
It wasn't a moment for fear or doubt. He had to find his mother before it was too late.
I have to see her one last time, he thought.
At that moment, Josh and Alicia, seeing the severity of the wound, reacted quickly.
"Ander, we're going to help you. This looks bad, but you're not alone," Alicia said.
"I'll find something to treat you. Hang on, buddy," Josh added, running to the kitchen.
Together, they bandaged the wound as best they could, though they knew it was only temporary relief.
The infection was still there, lurking.
Suddenly, a voice rang out. "Everyone to the evacuation zone!" a soldier shouted from the street.
Ander clenched his teeth.
If there was any chance of finding his mother, it would be there. Surely, after the explosion, she had run toward the school… maybe they had crossed paths without seeing each other in the crowd.
"Surely our families are heading toward the evacuation route, since they didn't find us at school," Ander said.
Josh nodded, trying to stay calm. "You're absolutely right. We have to stick together… move very carefully."
The kids decided to leave the house and head toward the evacuation zone.
The streets, once familiar and peaceful, were now overrun by hostiles, fear, and despair.
Ander and his friends ran desperately, dodging fires and avoiding any path where hostile shadows moved, leaping from place to place and attacking innocents.
In the midst of the chaos, Alicia stumbled.
"Easy, get up," Josh said, helping her to her feet.
Ahead of them, a person was caught by a hostile, forcing them to change direction. Screams echoed everywhere, until one voice stood out among the chaos.
"Hey kids! Quick, over here!" shouted Carlo, the baker, holding open the door to a basement.
Without hesitation, the trio plunged into the darkness of the underground refuge.
The baker shut the door.
Suddenly, the screams faded, replaced by a sepulchral silence.
The dim light revealed other refugees: Carlo and Felicia, the bakery owner; a family composed of Martin and his children Wallace and Natasha; a middle-aged man with glasses; Julia, the librarian; Fermín, the butcher armed with a knife; and the elderly woman who owned the basement.
"Carlo, secure the door," Felicia urged, worried.
"We need to block the entrance," Fermín added, as everyone helped barricade it with furniture.
"I don't understand how we're still alive…" Josh muttered, terrified.
The atmosphere was heavy with fear.
Natasha cried for her mother, while Martin, her father, tried to calm her. Wallace, worried, asked if they would really find her at the evacuation train.
The middle-aged man told them to be quiet, fearing the noise would attract the creatures.
The basement, though improvised, began to feel like a refuge. It was then that Ander, in the midst of the calm, thought again about his bite.
"Does it hurt much, Ander?" Alicia asked.
"No, it just feels like a cut," he replied, trying not to alarm anyone.
Julia looked at him. "Hey, kid… were you bitten?"
"Yes…" Ander admitted, discouraged.
Everyone exchanged worried glances. They knew there was no antidote for a bite.
"Don't be alarmed, boy," the elderly woman said warmly. "You're too young for a simple bite to defeat you."
"No… I still have to find my mother," Ander replied firmly.
"Don't worry, she must be looking for you too. Rest, so your wound won't hurt as much," the elderly woman added.
"I just hope she's okay… my wound doesn't matter anymore," Ander answered.
They decided to stay there, waiting for the fury of the hostiles to subside.
They organized shifts to guard the door. The sun's rays faded little by little, and the elderly woman lit candles to illuminate the place.
The group, seeking distraction from fear, gathered in a circle.
Slowly, they began to introduce themselves.
"I'd like to know the people I'm hiding with," Carlo the baker said with a kind smile. "My name is Carlo, I'm a baker and I work with Mrs. Felicia."
"That's right," Felicia replied playfully. "By the way, I don't know if I can keep paying you… I'm Felicia, the bakery owner."
"Hello, I'm Fermín," the butcher added. "I've been a butcher for many years, nice to meet you."
The father, holding his children close: "Hello everyone, my name is Martin. These are my kids: Wallace is twelve, and Natasha is ten. We're looking for my wife."
The middle-aged man, grumpy as he watched the door, muttered, "Are you seriously introducing yourselves?" while cleaning his glasses.
Julia spoke gently. "Well… my name is Julia, I worked as a librarian before all this."
The elderly woman smiled kindly. "I'm the owner of this basement. I never thought it would be so useful. I'm glad that after all this time, it served as a refuge and could help all of you."
As time passed, bonds of trust began to form among them.
Ander, though tormented by the bite on his shoulder, found comfort in the solidarity of these people.
I just hope my mother is safe.
The silence of the basement was shattered: three sharp knocks echoed against the door, as if someone—or something—was trying to get in.