Fast! Legs pumping, lungs burning, Gabriela vaulted a low HVAC unit. "¡Vamos, equipo!" Her voice, bright and eager, cut through the city's eerie quiet. She pushed a smile onto her face, a shield for the tremor in her gut. Behind her, Sofía landed with a grunt, her eyes scanning the empty sky. "¿Estás segura de que se fue?" she muttered, her tone laced with doubt. Sofía always questioned, a pragmatic anchor to Gabriela’s sometimes reckless optimism. Leo, bringing up the rear, stumbled slightly, his face pale, sweat beading on his forehead. "Esa cosa... era enorme. ¿Qué era?" His voice cracked, fear a raw edge. He looked like he might throw up. "Solo un dron de reconocimiento," Gabriela chirped, not looking back. "Nada que no hayamos evitado antes. Ahora, arriba y adelante. Recuerden los básicos: vista, línea, impulso." She pointed to a higher building, a clear path of ledges and drainpipes offering a direct route. Above them, the air remained still. The distant hum had indeed faded, swallowed by the city’s new, unnatural silence. Yet, Gabriela felt its phantom presence, a metallic predator always lurking. Her hands, usually steady, trembled almost imperceptibly as she gripped the rough concrete of the next ledge. She moved with practiced grace, a whisper of motion across the urban decay. Her five companions followed, a mixture of silent efficiency and nervous fumbling. They were seven, a small, fragile unit against a world gone mad. The others, less vocal than Sofía or Leo, focused on their footing, each jump a testament to their training. Across a narrow alley, she leaped, landing silently on the opposing roof. "Controlado," she called back, her voice a little breathless. "Mantengan la formación. No queremos sorpresas." The wind whipped at her hair, carrying the faint, metallic tang of something foul. Days ago, this city had buzzed with life. Now, empty streets gaped below, a concrete graveyard. Overturned vehicles, scattered debris, and the grotesque smears of what could only be blood painted a grim picture. A cold knot tightened in Gabriela's stomach. Her smile felt stretched, brittle. The memory of her brother’s still legs, the dull ache of guilt, fueled her desperate need to keep them safe. Another series of low walls, a short gap, then a climb up a fire escape. Gabriela moved tirelessly, her energy a deceptive display. Each upward movement was a silent prayer, a personal penance. Her life, she believed, was forfeit. Their lives, however, were not. They reached the peak of a twenty-story residential tower, its rooftop garden now a tangle of withered plants and broken pottery. Below, the city unfolded like a decaying map. Smoke plumed from several distant districts, staining the horizon. The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of burning. "Allí," Sofía murmured, pointing. Her usual skepticism was replaced by a grim certainty. "Mira eso." Gabriela’s gaze followed. In a large plaza several blocks away, armored vehicles idled. Soldiers, stark against the civilian chaos, moved with brutal efficiency. Their uniforms, dark and menacing, bore the insignia of the Cuerpo de Vanguardia, Valenzuela’s elite unit. Hope, a tiny flicker she hadn't realized she still harbored, began to wane. A group of civilians, perhaps twenty of them, huddled together, hands raised. Their pleas, faint and desperate, carried on the wind. Gabriela strained her ears, trying to make out their words. Were they asking for help? For evacuation? Suddenly, the soldiers raised their rifles. The sound of rapid gunfire ripped through the air, sharp and unforgiving. The civilians crumpled, one by one, like puppets whose strings had been cut. Their bodies lay still, stark against the plaza's pavement. Gabriela's breath hitched. A guttural sound escaped Leo, who stumbled back, covering his mouth. Sofía's face was a mask of horror, her eyes wide, unblinking. The others stood frozen, silent witnesses to an unimaginable act. "No... no es un rescate," Gabriela whispered, the forced cheerfulness in her voice utterly gone. Her jaw clenched so hard her teeth ached. A vein pulsed at her temple. This wasn't containment. This was eradication. This was the Zona Roja initiative, brought to its horrifying conclusion. Valenzuela. The name burned in her mind. He wasn't saving anyone. He was eliminating variables. And they, a small band of parkour artists, were definitely variables. Her stomach churned, a mixture of rage and cold dread. The military was not their salvation. They were a greater threat than the infected. The realization settled heavy in her chest, a lead weight that extinguished any remaining light. She turned to her group, her eyes hardened with a new resolve. Her inner world, a constant battlefield of guilt and self-sacrifice, now had a singular, undeniable purpose. They were alone. Completely, terrifyingly alone. And she would protect them. Every single one. "Tenemos que movernos," she said, her voice low and steady. "Ahora. Búsquenme una ruta de descenso. Rápida. Segura." Her gaze swept the adjacent buildings, searching for a path that wasn't a dead end, a trap. Below them, the city writhed. Distant screams punctuated the silence, a chilling reminder of what lurked at ground level. The air grew thicker, heavier, the smell of decay mingling with the faint scent of ozone from the distant military operations. She spotted a possibility: a narrow maintenance ladder leading down to a lower section of the building, then a series of decorative ledges they could use to traverse to an adjacent, shorter structure. It was risky, exposed, but it was a route. "Por aquí," she instructed, pointing to the ladder. "Leo, tú primero. Con cuidado. El resto, en orden. Sofía, última." Her commands were precise, leaving no room for argument. Leo, still pale, nodded, gulping, and cautiously began his descent. One by one, they started moving. The wind picked up, a mournful whisper around the skyscraper. The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in shades of bruised purple and angry orange. Shadows lengthened, swallowing the lower levels of the city. Gabriela watched them descend, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Every muscle in her body was coiled, ready. She was the shepherd, and the wolves were everywhere. She vowed to face every single one of them. Just as she prepared to follow Sofía down the ladder, a sickening sound scraped against the glass facade behind them. It was a wet, clicking noise, like chitinous claws on a smooth surface. She spun around, her eyes widening in primal fear. ---Desde las sombras que se esconden tras ellos, un sonido húmedo y chasquido resuena mientras un infectado 'Stalker' mutado trepa por la fachada de cristal vertical con velocidad arácnida, bloqueando su única ruta de descenso.

Chapter 2: Iniciativa de cuarentena en la zona roja