Chapter 17
The sun hovered high, casting golden beams through the gaps in the trees as the camp buzzed with quiet, determined life. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, progress had a pulse.
Axel stood outside the tent that once belonged to the old camp leader. It was his now, just like everything else. His eyes scanned the horizon beyond the wall as Hank approached, wiping sweat from his brow.
"It's done," Hank said, voice proud but tired. "The wall's up. Four watchtowers, just like you planned. One gate, reinforced with scrap metal. The architect said the design will hold."
Axel gave a slow nod. "Good."
He didn't offer praise. Hank didn't need it. The man had done what was asked—efficiently and without complaint. That was enough.
Moments later, the farmer appeared. Dirt smeared across his arms, his face sunburnt and weathered. He held a simple paper with markings and notes.
"The land's ready," he said, voice laced with exhaustion and satisfaction. "Took me days, but the soil is clean, turned, and waiting. All we need now is seed and water."
Axel looked at the man, then at the open patch of cleared ground in the distance. "You'll get what you need. One step at a time."
No sooner had the farmer stepped away than the blacksmith arrived, arms heavy with metal tools wrapped in worn cloth. He unrolled them in front of the tent—shovels, hoes, even a handmade trowel.
"They're not pretty," the blacksmith grunted, "but they'll hold. Steel's from the junkyard outside the west trees."
The farmer's eyes lit up as he took the tools, running calloused fingers over the edges. "This'll make it faster. Much faster."
Axel simply nodded again. The pieces were moving.
And then came the final piece—Kara.
She stepped into the clearing like a shadow melting out of the forest. Her hands carried a wooden crate. Inside, feathers rustled softly.
Chickens.
Six of them, clucking nervously, unaware of how important they were to the future of the camp.
Kara dropped the crate by the tent and met Axel's gaze. "Couldn't find anything bigger, but this is a start."
"It's more than enough," Axel replied.
And it was.
With walls, a gate, a growing field, tools, livestock, and guards in towers, the camp was becoming more than a temporary shelter.
It was becoming a home.
He didn't smile. Not yet.
But for the first time, he felt the weight of possibility pressing down on his shoulders instead of just survival.
And he welcomed it.
---
The wind rustled through the trees like a warning whisper. The camp had begun to breathe—walls up, food growing, chickens clucking—but peace never lasted long.
Jason stormed into the tent, grease on his hands, frustration in his eyes.
"We've got a problem," he said.
Axel didn't flinch. He simply looked up from the map he was studying.
Jason continued, "The engine powering the camp? It's dead tomorrow. I've done everything I can, squeezed every last breath out of it. After that, we go dark."
Silence.
Axel already knew this day would come. The engine had been sputtering for days. But he'd held off on using the spare car—the one tucked behind the far cabin, under a sheet of metal and tarp.
It wasn't just a vehicle.
It was part of his contingency.
It had maps inside. Weapons. Fuel. Food rations. Things he had stored for a day when things went to hell again. And they would.
But now, without power, the camp would fall apart. Morale would drop. Fear would creep in again. And when that happened, loyalty weakened. People would fight over food, water, control.
He had to make a decision.
Jason watched him. "We can rig the other car. Just pull the engine. I can hook it into the grid by sundown."
"No," Axel said sharply.
Jason blinked. "Why not? That thing's just sitting there—"
"It's not just a car," Axel cut him off. "It's backup ."
He didn't say it out loud
Jason didn't understand ut as well
But this car was Axel backup plan In case this place falls he will not risk his life and his goal to save them no
If the danger is to much
He will just let go and run
Some will say this is just being a coward but to Axel it was only survival
He doesn't care if he looks like a coward he doesn't care if he looks like in idiot or anything else
If it means he will survive and do what he wants then he will do whatever it takes
Kill
Run
Hide
Beg
He don't care at all
He is a man of strong mind and will
Jason frowned. "Then what do you suggest? We're running out of time."
Axel stood, stepped past Jason, and stared at the wall of the tent where a map of the area hung. His finger landed on a small location marked in red ink: Power Station—Abandoned.
He had scouted it before. A hydro station built near the river, said to be non-functional. But Axel had seen wires, panels, metal structures. If there was even a chance to revive it...
"That's our solution," he said. "The river station. If it's still functional, even a little, we can get enough power to last months."
Jason stepped closer. "You think it'll work?"
"No," Axel answered. "But we're going anyway."
He turned, eyes cold and resolved.
"Get your tools. We leave at dawn."
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