Chapter 15
Hank returned just after noon, his face marked with sweat and dust. Axel stood outside the old tent that once belonged to the previous camp leader, now turned into a temporary headquarters.
"What did you find?" Axel asked, tone as calm as ever.
Hank wiped his forehead with a sleeve. "We're in a good spot, kid. The camp is surrounded on three sides by thick forest. No one can sneak up without making noise. And there's a river half a mile north—clean water."
Axel nodded slowly, eyes narrowing in thought. "Good."
He turned to the makeshift table, where a rough map was spread out. "This place," he said, tapping the camp's location, "is perfect. We're far enough from the city not to attract walkers easily, and the trees give us cover."
Hank raised an eyebrow. "So what's next?"
Axel didn't hesitate. "We fortify. I'm done playing defense. We build a wall."
He picked up a charcoal stick and began to draw lines on the map. "A square wall around the entire camp. Four watchtowers—north, south, east, and west. One gate on the south side, facing the open clearing."
Hank watched as Axel worked. There was precision in every line, a cold logic that left little room for emotion. This wasn't just a boy surviving—this was a commander building a fortress.
Axel stood upright and handed Hank a folded paper. Five names written in his exact handwriting.
"Take these five men. Start cutting trees. I want wood stacked before nightfall. We'll use the thicker logs for the wall and the rest for support beams."
Hank took the paper, eyes scanning the names. "You sure these five are good for it?"
Axel's stare was unblinking. "I don't give chances, Hank. I give orders. If they can't handle it, replace them."
Without another word, Hank nodded and walked off, already calling the names out.
Axel turned back to the map, his mind racing ahead. Every wall, every defense, every trap—it all had to be perfect. He wasn't just protecting people.
He was building a kingdom.
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By dawn the next day, the sound of axes hitting wood echoed through the forest. Birds scattered. Trees groaned. Sweat poured down the backs of men who hadn't held an axe in years—but Axel watched them like a hawk, his expression unreadable.
He stood at the edge of the clearing, arms crossed, eyes scanning the work.
The first logs had been laid. Hank had picked the right five. One of the men, Leo, used to be a construction worker. He naturally took the lead under Hank's watchful eye.
"We'll need support beams every six feet," Leo said, voice hoarse. "Otherwise, one push from those things, and the whole thing caves in."
Axel just nodded. "You build it strong, I'll make sure no one gets through."
Back at the camp, Emily worked her way through another roll call. She checked wounds, updated names, took notes on who was helping with cooking, cleaning, or assisting Mary.
Inside one of the tents, Mary had already trained the two girls Axel assigned her. Their hands were clumsy, but Mary was patient—her voice calm as she taught how to wrap wounds, check pulses, ration medicine.
Jason, meanwhile, sat near the generator, arms covered in oil. He'd disassembled three batteries and was trying to wire them into a single, more efficient power source.
Axel visited each of them.
He didn't say much. Just looked. Just listened. Just remembered.
He returned to his tent in the evening and marked the map again. A red circle around the camp. A note scribbled beside it:
"Week One – Territory Claimed"
Later that night, as the fire crackled and people began to rest, Axel stood alone at the watch point.
Mary joined him. She didn't say anything at first.
"They're following you," she finally said. "Even if they're scared."
"I don't need them to love me," Axel replied. "Just obey."
Mary looked away, troubled. "You're young, but you don't act it."
Axel didn't answer.
Because he wasn't young anymore. Not since the day he buried his parents.
Not since he saw that mark on the wall.
He turned toward the firelight, where people laughed quietly for the first time in weeks.
It wasn't peace.
But it was the beginning of something close.
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