Adam thought seeing all of his friends together in the funeral home would make him feel better.

He was wrong.

The damage time had inflicted on four of his favorite people in the entire world, their somber faces and muted movements, did nothing but deepen the hole in his stomach. Could he have imagined what took place in Parque Central? No. His doubts had died with Vera. Hallucinations or not, they wanted him, and his old team silenced and out of the way, and he wasn't about to go down without a fight anymore.

Since hiding was a choice no more and exposing them might be the only chance his siblings had, he needed to do this. However, the idea of having to deal with those unnamed things still drained the color from his face.

Not knowing what to say, Adam remained motionless, holding the tiny plastic cup of coffee the funeral services assistant had given him as soon as he arrived at the wake. Should I talk to the family? I think it was her step-aunt who organized this with Santi's help, but I know no one here except for... He glanced at his friends, and his mouth became so dry he wasn't sure he'd be able to speak even if he tried. Get a hold of yourself!

Aware of the lack of any odor associated with death, the constant hum of the air conditioner, and the mild heat from the light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, he remembered what Evi had told him years ago about the illusion of control.

We try our best to ignore our own mortality, bend the world at our will, and keep the darkness at bay, and yet... Adam crossed his arms, dreading the possibility of seeing the same creature he'd killed lurking in the dusky office to his left, behind the large tempered glass. It's make-believe.

"Did you see a ghost?" Ernest said as a way of greeting.

Adam shook his head. "That's not funny."

"Forgive me for trying to bring a little laugh to a wake," he produced a cigarette and a lighter. "You look like shit, by the way."

"Nice seeing you after all these years."

"Smell like it too."

Even though Adam had taken a shower at the motel where he spent the night, his clothes were the same ones from yesterday.

Someone's sobbing turned into wailing and then into a terrible cry. It was a teenager; he couldn't have been over thirteen. As a few of his relatives comforted him, Ernest and Adam walked towards the rest of their friends in the opposite direction, far from everyone else.

The old team sat on metal folding chairs in an adjacent room, a modest chapel with a sole kneeler and a crucifix. Perhaps it was the sadness that comes with loss or the tiredness of a sleepless night. Either way, they seemed incapable of doing anything besides giving up.

After a brief but awkward round of hello's, a failed attempt at a hug from Chuo, and an idle small talk fostered by a nervous Santiago, Claudia was the first one to touch on the topic that had brought them here.

"Did you watch the news about Vera?"

"They claimed she lost her mind," Chuo couldn't hold their gazes and stared at his fumbling thumbs instead. "What was the term? Oh, yeah. 'A suicidal arsonist,' they said."

"Fucking bastards. This was no suicide!" Santiago lowered his voice to an angry whisper. "It's the government. When their arepa muzzles won't do, they opt for more... permanent solutions."

"Paranoia is a perilous road," replied Claud, looking at her coffee. She hadn't had a single sip yet.

"No, no. Let's hear him!" Ernest's eyes glinted with malice. "Tell us, Santi. Did a hired assassin drive your ex to Parque Central, force her to the last floor and start a fire? Wow! How did I not think of that?"

"Please, don't jump at his throat," Chuo pleaded.

Claudia sighed. "The chances of an elevator crashing down are almost nil, but still—"

"It can happen, though!" Ernest interrupted her.

"But," Claud continued. "It's possible."

"I give a damn what you people say," Santiago stood up and turned their back on them. "Something bizarre went down. I am sure of it."

The terrible cry of the kid in the next room echoed in the silence which fell on them.

"Adam, what do you think?" Chuo asked after a while.

"Yeah," Ernest agreed. "What's your take on all of this?"

He felt uneasy looking into their expectant eyes. "I don't have to wonder what happened" His lungs filled with air and courage. "I was there with her."

"You what?" Santiago turned around, livid.

"I was the last person to see Vera alive," Adam confessed.

"How's that possible?" Claudia moved to the edge of her chair. "You've been off the grid for years."

"Is that so? What a nice coincidence, man!" Even with the cigarette resting on his lips, the skepticism in Ernest's voice was unmistakable. "Don't tease us like that only to shut up afterward. Carry on."

"Tell me what happened," Santi urged him with an eagerness that verged of desperation.

"Vera contacted me because she'd found evidence that linked the Mission Phidias to the Red Christmas; she had proof that something was behind what's been happening to everyone." A pause. "What's been happening to us."

"What was the evidence about?" Claudia asked.

"Aliens," Adam said.

Chuo's face became pasty, and Claud dropped her coffee. The brownish liquid splattered on their shoes, but this seemed of no importance to them.

"What are you? The meme guy with the crazy hair? 'Aliens.'" Ernest said with a fake quivering smile, as he realized the other person from their team who could make that joke was in a casket.

No one laughed. They couldn't; not after they'd given a name to their fears.

Adam noticed Santi mumbled something in agreement. Claud said nothing, but he saw in her eyes what none of them dared to speak out loud: they had seen those creatures too. Not disbelief, but denial prevented them from saying more until Chuo broke the uneasy quietness with a question, "Do they look like... larvae?"

"Millipedes. But yeah. They have been popping everywhere," Santiago replied. "It's a fucking infestation."

"More like an invasion," Claud's words sounded stuck in her throat.

"You too!?"

"Ernest, keep your voice down!" she said.

"Aliens have infested Caracas? You realize how nuts this sounds?"

"How else can you explain the weird shit you've seen, dude?" Santi also struggled to maintain a civil tone. "Aliens or not, something not-human, is taking over our families and friends."

Instead of discussing their sanity or asking more about the strange circumstances of Vera's death, Chuo stuttered a more pressing question, "What are we going to do? It's just five of us and a lot of them."

"We'll do what she'd been planning for months." Adam pointed at the coffin and showed them the notebook. Before continuing, he looked at them as if to say, "Are you prepared to go through with this?"

Only Ernest's face remained clouded with doubt for a long moment until he too sat to listen to Vera's plan.

This mess started with an email from my dead girlfriend, he thought. It is only right it ends with the message from another dead woman.

Adam opened the notebook.

Hey guys and gals! This is the end of book 1 of 2. I'll edit all of these chapters into one book and publish the polished version on Amazon if you are interested.

I will let you know once it's available.

Remember! Your feedback is invaluable.

If you are looking forward to find out how Adam's journey will end, please invite other people to read this story. More readers are always welcomed.

To all of you who made it all the way here, thanks.