Chapter 23: Judgment and Opportunity
The morning mist had barely lifted when Axel stood at the edge of the camp, surrounded by his closest people.
His orders were clear.
"Go to Redd's camp," he said, his voice steady but low. "Don't kill anyone unless they try to kill you. I don't want bodies. I want resources."
Hank nodded, already strapping a rifle over his back. Behind him, ten men—trained, loyal, and disciplined—waited for the signal.
Axel continued, eyes on Hank. "Take food, water, weapons, generators, batteries. Everything that breathes power, I want it in our hands. Cars, tools, fuel. If it can turn a wheel or power a light, it belongs to us now."
"And the people?" Hank asked.
"Bring them," Axel said. "All of them. Woman, children, old folk. Especially the ones who didn't fight. We'll separate them, see who's useful."
Hank hesitated. "And if they resist?"
"Don't spill blood unless they raise a weapon. We're not savages. Not today."
Axel watched them leave through the gate—fifteen men in total, moving like a quiet storm.
Once the gate closed behind them, Axel turned and headed toward the prison.
---
Inside the Cage
The prison still smelled of rust and sweat, a place that hadn't seen kindness in a long time. Redd sat chained to a chair, shirt torn, lip busted, but his eyes still burning with stubborn defiance.
He looked up as Axel stepped in.
"Come to gloat?" Redd grunted.
Axel didn't respond immediately. He studied Redd, slowly circling the chair.
"No," Axel said finally. "I came to see what kind of man you really are."
Redd snorted. "You beat us. Humiliated us. What more do you need to know?"
"You didn't touch the women. You didn't hurt a child. That says more about you than the blood you spilled."
Redd shrugged. "We were raiders. Not rapists. There's a line. I already told you"
Axel stared at him. "You had power. You had weapons. You had people who listened to you. But you threw it away."
"I thought we were stronger," Redd muttered. "Didn't know you were... whatever the hell you are."
Axel knelt down, eye to eye with him.
"I need fighters. Not sheep. And not monsters. I saw you fight. You're stupid, yes... reckless, definitely. But you have something most people don't: control."
Redd narrowed his eyes. "What are you saying?"
"I'm giving you a choice," Axel said. "Stay in this cage and rot. Or stand with me. Not above me. With me."
"You trust me?"
"No," Axel replied instantly. "But I don't need to trust you. I need to use you."
Silence.
Then a slow, dark chuckle escaped Redd's lips. "You're cold, kid. Real cold."
Axel stood. "I'm still alive."
And with that, he left the prison.
---
The sun had barely broken over the treeline when the rumble of engines echoed in the distance.
Axel stood at the edge of the camp, arms crossed, silver-black hair stirring in the wind, eyes narrowed.
The gates opened.
What had left as one beat-up car now returned as three, each loaded to the brim—stacked with crates, sacks, bags, boxes. Weapons lined the back of one, blankets and clothes piled into another, the third filled with food, cans, tools, even empty bottles. Nothing was spared.
Hank stepped out of the lead vehicle, coated in dust, face hardened from the long trip, but there was a grin beneath it.
"We cleaned them out," he said simply.
Behind the vehicles came the people—a dozen women, six children, and five old men—all cautious, hesitant, their eyes wide with uncertainty and fear. They clung to each other in small groups, walking slowly, whispering, uncertain of their fate.
Axel's expression didn't shift. He simply watched.
"They didn't fight," Hank added. "Didn't argue. They just packed what we told them to pack and followed orders."
Axel nodded once, then turned his gaze toward the group.
Their clothes were simple but clean. None of them bore bruises or chains. There was no sign of cruelty. Only fear—fear of the unknown. But it wasn't fear of Redd. It was fear of change.
Hank leaned in closer to Axel, lowering his voice. "Kid... these people? They were actually doing alright over there. Redd didn't force them into anything. No screams. No cells. Just... order. They followed him because he kept them safe."
Axel raised a brow, but said nothing.
"Redd's wife is here," Hank continued. "So is his boy. Maybe ten years old, smart little kid. Scared, but solid. These people weren't prisoners. They were a community. Redd built it."
Axel looked past Hank, toward the camp's prison where Redd still sat.
"I know," Axel said quietly.
Hank blinked. "You knew?"
"I saw it in his eyes the day we fought," Axel replied. "He didn't send men to slaughter. He sent them to test me. And when he lost, he didn't cry or beg. He just sat down and took it."
"So what now?" Hank asked. "What do we do with them?"
Axel turned to face the incoming group. Some of the women stepped forward, shielding children instinctively, unsure of what kind of man now held their fate.
Axel walked past Hank, silent, then lifted his hand in a calm gesture.
"Bring them water," he ordered. "Food. Blankets. They're not prisoners. They're guests."
The people froze, shocked by the kindness.
"But," Axel continued, voice rising slightly, "anyone who steps out of line—anyone—will answer to me."
His group scattered, obeying his orders at once. Food and drink were delivered. Places to sit. The atmosphere softened, but tension still lingered.
Hank stepped up beside Axel again. "You really think you can make use of Redd?"
Axel smirked. "No. I know I will."
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