3rd POV, FEDRA Jeffery Base

Cole slipped through the window of the abandoned FEDRA base, the cold hard dirt cracking beneath him. The air outside was cool, a welcome contrast to the stale, musty atmosphere of the armory, no spores or anything to infect him. He exhaled slowly as he removed the mask, his body still tense from the encounter with the Clickers, but the immediate danger seemed to have passed...for now

The side exit had led him to a narrow alleyway, flanked by crumbling walls that were half-covered with ivy and rusted-out pipes. He could just make out the military truck where he'd parked it, hidden behind the remains of an overturned bus. Relief washed over him for a moment, he was almost in the clear till he heard it.

Voices. Low, rough, and close.

Cole stopped, pressing his back against the brick wall of the building, his heart rate spiking again as he heard the voices. He peeked around the corner, careful to stay hidden from what or who was out there. There he saw Hunters, a group of three, maybe four, standing around what looked like a makeshift camp set up near a pile of old debris.

They hadn't spotted him yet, but it was clear what they were doing, scavenging the area, looking for anything of value, or worse, waiting to ambush anyone who came through. He ran into a few when he and the other residents had to go hunting for food or supplies, they would do messed up shit to get a little bit of food or clothes

Their gear was worn but functional, scrapped together from bits of armor, tattered clothes, and scavenged weapons. One of them held a rusty pipe, while another had a hunting rifle slung over his shoulder, showing hey weren't just random survivors. These were Hunters alright, and they had the look of people who wouldn't hesitate to take what they wanted by force.

"Fantastic," Cole muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing,"just what I needed. Like the Clickers weren't enough excitement for one day."

He crouched low, ducking back behind the wall as he considered his options. Gunfire would attract too much attention, and besides, he wasn't in the mood for a loud firefight with Hunters or any nearby by infected in the buildings. He needed to be smart, save ammo and cause little noise to not attract attention, human or infected wise

Reaching into his pack, Cole pulled out a KABR knife, a gift he gotten from his father years ago. There he taught how to move silently, strike quickly, and disappear before anyone could notice with this knife. The Hunters were spread out enough that he had a chance to take them down quietly, one by one, take them out and head out so he doesn't lead them to home

Cole moved like a shadow, keeping low as he circled around the debris, using the tall grass and broken-down vehicles for cover. The first Hunter, a man in a torn jacket with a pipe gripped tightly in his hand, was leaning against the side of an old car, his back to Cole. Without a sound, Cole crept up behind the man, his footfalls barely audible against the dirt and rubble.

He slipped the knife into his hand, the cool rubber handle familiar in his grip. In a swift, fluid motion, he reached up, clamping his free hand over the man's mouth to stifle any sound from it. The Hunter tensed for a split second, his eyes wide with shock, but before he could react, Cole brought the knife to his neck, ramming the sharpen blade into his neck.

The man thrashed silently into Cole's arms, his body going limp as Cole carefully lowered him to the ground, placing him out of sight behind the car. Cole wiped his hand on his jacket, his expression unreadable as he looked at the now dead man. He stared as he huffed a bit and walked to his head.

"Sorry buddy, but it was either you or me," he said

Cole moved quickly, knowing he had to take out the others before they noticed their missing comrade. The second Hunter, a woman crouching by an overturned crate, was rummaging through old supplies, muttering something under her breath. She was distracted, her focus entirely on whatever junk she hoped to find, maybe some remnants of food or shit.

Cole slid silently behind a crate, reaching out as he grabbed her arm and twisting it behind her in a smooth motion. Before she could cry out, Cole pressed his hand over her mouth, then shoved the blade into her chest, making her thrash hard as he held her in a death grip. Soon she stopped, making him feel for a pulse, and when he didn't feel it he lays her down

Two down. He sighed as he wipes the sweat off, making him look at the dead woman. He didn't have anything against killing, but he just wish people use their brains and think before they act, then maybe there would be less dead people. He sighed as he moved onto the last one, then he be clear to head home

The third and final Hunter was pacing near the entrance to the camp, his rifle slung lazily over his shoulder. He didn't seem particularly alert, probably confident that the area was clear. However, Cole was about to fuck this mans whole career up

Staying low, he circled around a stack of old tires and a rusted-out toolbox, creeping ever closer to the Hunter's position. Just as the man turned his back, Cole seized the opportunity. He closed the distance, his footsteps nearly silent as he reached up, grabbing the man's arm and pulling him backward, using his momentum to knock him off balance.

Before the Hunter could react, Cole rammed the blade into the mans neck, making the man scream silently into Coles hand. Soon the man slumped in Cole's grasp, and the rifle clattered softly to the ground. Cole winced at the sound and grabbed his pistol to make sure nothing came, but there was no one left to hear it, so he took a breath as he cleaned his blade

With the Hunters neutralized, Cole let out a quiet breath, his muscles relaxing just a little as he rolled his shoulders. He was about to walk off, but he crouched down to pick up the rifle the Hunter dropped, examining it briefly before slinging it over his own shoulder. It was in good condition, might get him some credits in the town to get some food

"Thanks for the donation," he muttered

He glanced around the camp once more, ensuring there were no more surprises in store for him, then made his way toward the truck. The vehicle was still hidden behind the bus, its rusted exterior blending in with the wreckage around it. Cole moved quickly, but checked it over to make sure no one messed with it, while staying alert for any other signs of movement.

He slipped into the driver's seat, exhaling deeply as he leaned back for a moment. The weight of the M21 Prototype was reassuring in his backpack, and the day's dangers were starting to feel like a distant memory. He chuckled as he tossed his pack into the passenger side and turned the key in the ignition and the engine sputtered to life, Cole glanced at the dead Hunters in the distance.

His fingers tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel, and a small smile tugged at his lips.

"Either you or me...and I have to much to keep going," he mumbled before heading off

The truck rattled along the cracked, worn road as Cole drove through the remnants of Jeffrey City, the once-bustling mining town now a shadow of its former self. Buildings that had once stood tall were reduced to skeletal frames, their windows long shattered, their walls crumbling. Cole had grown up here, but in a different world, one where people still had hope, where the sky didn't seem so heavy with the weight of loss.

He took in the scene around him, his eyes scanning the hollowed-out shells of homes and shops. Here and there, makeshift barricades had been erected, and the occasional guard stood watch from rooftops or behind fortified positions. The residents of Jeffrey City had turned their town into a fortress from the remnants of the QZ, a small haven of life amidst the chaos of the post-apocalypse. .

As he neared the center of town, where the residents had set up their small settlement, the familiar sounds of life greeted him. People moved about in the streets, bartering for supplies, repairing equipment, and keeping a watchful eye on the horizon for any sign of danger. It wasn't much, but it was home...or what he remembered it as

He slowed the truck as he approached the gates of the makeshift town, where a pair of guards stood watch. They were both people Cole knew well from his life here, they were tough, dependable, and loyal to the core. They were former members of the 113th Iron Battalion in the past, a military core assigned to help the outbreak back then, not they were the cities defenders

One of the guards, a burly man named Jake Matthews, waved him down with a grin. He was average height, shaggy brown hair wearing random assortment of clothes with body armor over it. He walked to the window as he smiled a bit.

"Back already, Cole," he asked in a joking manner,"thought you'd be out there for at least a few days."

Cole returned the smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Yeah, well, the wilds aren't as fun as they used to be," he said,"ou should try it sometime. Nothing like dodging Clickers to get the blood pumping."

"I'll pass on that one," Jake chuckled, shaking his head,"you've always been the crazy one around here."

Cole parked the truck near the gates and climbed out, stretching his arms as the tension from the road eased from his body.

"Speaking of crazy, where's the rest," he asked, making Jake jerk a thumb toward the center of town.

"Everyone's been busy. Patrols, repairs, the usual. You might want to check in with Kat down at the motor pool, though. Heard she's been looking for you."

Cole made his way through the settlement, weaving through the mix of tents and hastily-built shacks. The motor pool sat at the far edge of the town, where a handful of trucks, motorcycles, and other vehicles had been salvaged and repaired for use. The place smelled of grease and fuel, and the constant sound of metal clanging against metal filled the air.

As he approached, Cole spotted the head mechanic, Kat "Wrench" Ramirez, hunched over the hood of a beat-up Jeep, her hands greasy as always. Kat was in her mid-thirties, tough as nails, and could fix just about anything with an engine. She wiped her hands on a rag as Cole walked up, her smile never fading

"About time you brought that heap back in one piece," Kat called out, giving him a mock glare,"I was starting to think you'd turned it into scrap."

"Nah, I'm saving the scrap for next time," he said as he crossed his arms,"how much to keep it running?"

Kat looked the truck up and down, squinting as if she could see every part that needed fixing just by looking at it.

"She's in better shape than I expected, but she's still a rust bucket," she said

"Every car, truck or kiddy car out there is a rust bucket Kat," Cole said to to her

"Well you're looking at 50 credits, maybe more if I have to replace the spark plugs."

"Fifty? For a truck that barely runs? You're bleeding me dry, Kat."

"You're lucky it's just fifty, but if you keep pushing that thing like you do," she said with smirk,"I'll have to charge you double next time. It's not exactly easy finding parts out here, you know."

With a sigh Cole tossed her the keys, guess he might as well take what he can get. Kat caught the keys and pocketed them, making sure to not lose them or she will lose credit in the town, a mechanic losing keys isn't good for business

"Deal, just make sure she's ready for another run soon," he said,"I've got more places to be."

"She'll be ready," she said but got a serious face,"but you better be careful out there, Cole. I don't want to be the one hauling your sorry hide back to town."

"How about you let me worry about my life and just focus on the cars Wrench, I can take care of myself."

Leaving the motor pool, Cole made his way toward the Quartermaster's station, a small booth set up near the center of town. The booth was manned by Lina Smith, a sharp, no-nonsense fifteen-year-old who had taken on the role of managing the town's supplies and barter system. She was resourceful beyond her years, handling weapons, food, and gear distribution with the kind of efficiency that put most adults to shame.

When Cole approached, Lina was busy counting a small stack of bullets, organizing them into piles. Her keen eyes flicked up when she saw him, he has been a big help to her. He was good with bullet making, reloading and repairing all the weapons in the QZ. Sometimes she thinks he was born to make weapons, she certainly didn't want to be on the receiving end of his barrel

"Hey, Cole," she greeted, not looking up from her task,"back already? You looking to offload something?"

"Yeah," Cole replied, unslinging the rifle from his shoulder and setting it down on the counter in front of her,"picked this up from some jackasses. Thought I'd see if it gets me some extra creds."

Lina grabbed the rifle, inspecting it with a practiced eye. It was in decent condition, the barrel was clean and the scope was intact, which was lucky considering how many items were broken during the initial outbreak all those years ago. Though the sight of some blood on the stock makes her look at him, getting a blank face, making her sigh a bit

"Decent find, could use a little cleaning, but it'll shoot straight," Lina said,"I'll give you 80 credits for it."

"Sold," Cole said without hesitation

He knew Lina always gave a fair price, and there wasn't much room for haggling. Credits were scarce, but they were the only reliable currency left in Jeffrey City. Plus the last person who tried to cheat Cole ended up with a broken collarbone and a busted hand, guy tried to grope his sister in public. She grabbed credits, multi-colored cards, into Cole's into hands, then slid the rifle into her growing pile of inventory.

"You really need to stop running into trouble, Cole," she said,"people are starting to worry."

"Well people should mind their own damn business," Cole said as he gave her a sideways glance,"I can handle myself Lina, stop worrying."

"...Just don't get yourself killed out there...please."

As Cole was about to head out, a familiar voice cut through the air.

"So, you're back again, huh? Heard you went out alone. Again."

Cole sighed inwardly before turning to face Malcolm Price, the head of security for Jeffrey City. Malcolm was a tall, imposing man in his forties, with graying hair and a demeanor that left little room for nonsense. He had taken up the role of security chief after Cole's father, Logan Walker, had passed, and while Malcolm meant well, he worried for Cole sometimes.

"I'm still breathing, aren't I," Cole shot back, crossing his arms.

Malcolm's eyes narrowed as he approached, a narrow look in his face. Cole sometimes had a split personality, one minute his cracking jokes and making sarcastic comments that makes a person think he is insane and there's the one Cole usually has. A kid who doesn't give a shit about himself and almost gets himself killed and doesn't think about others who care for him

"That's not the point, and you know it," Malcom said,"you keep going off on these solo runs, throwing yourself into danger without thinking. You're going to get yourself killed."

"I can handle myself," Cole said"I've been doing this long enough to know the risks."

"That's what your father used to say," Malcolm said as his voice dropped, taking on a more serious tone

Cole's jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists.

"Don't-."

"I'm just saying, Cole," Malcolm interrupted, his voice softer now,"Logan was a great man, but his stubbornness got him killed. You're heading down the same path. You can't do everything on your own."

Cole clenched his teeth, anger flashing in his eyes.

"I'm not my father, Malcolm."

"I know," Malcolm sighed, shaking his head,"but you're all we've got left of him, and this town needs you. Just...don't forget that."

Without another word, Malcolm turned and walked away, leaving Cole standing there, his fists still clenched at his sides. The mention of his father always stirred something inside him, like everyone has to use his death as an excuse to keep him under control and shackled to the city. He scoffed as he walked off, going to meet the person who sent him on this wild goose chase

Cole walked through the narrow alleyways of Jeffrey City, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. He was heading to meet his contact, the man who had given him the tip about the M21 Prototype. Without that information, he wouldn't have found the device, and without the device, the future of the city wouldn't be possible without it.

The meeting place was tucked away in the back of the town, behind the old supply depot the contact worked in. The building was one of the few that hadn't completely fallen apart over the years, though it was still far from stable. As Cole approached, he saw the familiar hunched figure of Elias Shaw, the old man who had once been a key engineer working for the military contractors responsible for the M21 and the plant's industrial systems.

Elias was sitting on an old wooden crate, his thin frame wrapped in a worn-out coat that had seen better days. His hair was gray and thinning, and his eyes, though tired, still held a sharpness that hinted at the brilliance hidden behind the wrinkles and age. He had the look of someone who had seen the world before it crumbled and had the misfortune of living long enough to see it after.

"Cole," Elias greeted as he saw him approaching, his voice raspy but steady,"you're late."

"Would've been here sooner," he said with a shrug,"but I had to dodge some Clickers on the way."

"Still as reckless as ever, huh," Elias chuckled,"well, at least you're still in one piece. Did you find what I sent you for?"

Cole nodded, pulling the M21 Prototype from his pack and showing it to the old man. He handed it to him, making the old man chuckle a bit as he rubbed the hard metal, smiling a bit as if he was reliving a memory from the past. When things were simpler and things didn't go to shit

"Now, what can you tell me about this thing," Cole asked

Elias eyes looked softly as he looked at the device, a flicker of something close to admiration crossing his face. He his old, gnarled hands running over the surface of the device as if he were handling a piece of delicate machinery.

"This is it," Elias muttered, more to himself than to Cole,"I didn't think you'd actually find it."

"You didn't think I'd find it," Cole asked, raising an eyebrow,"great, real confidence booster right there, always appreciated grandpa."

"No, no. It's just...I thought it would have been long gone by now. The fact that it's still intact is nothing short of a miracle."

Cole leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "So, what is it, really? I know it has something to do with the old manufacturing plant, but how does it work?"

Jacob sighed, leaning back and taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

"The M21 Prototype was designed as part of an initiative to automate the production lines at certain key facilities, factories that produced weapons, ammunition, industrial tools, and more. It wasn't just about making things faster. It was about making the entire process more efficient, more self-sustaining. The M21 was supposed to be the central control hub-the brains behind the operation."

"And the plant you told me about," Cole prompted, "that's where this thing was supposed to go, right?"

"Exactly. The plant was part of a larger network of industrial sites that were meant to be connected through devices like the M21. We were working on the project right up until...well, everything went to shit. I was one of the engineers tasked with improving the plant's infrastructure, upgrading it to run almost entirely on automated systems. The idea was that, even in the event of a collapse, the plant would be able to keep producing, powered by the old-world grid."

Cole listened intently, his mind already racing with possibilities.

"So, if I can hook this thing up to the plant, I could restart production," he asked,"weapons, tools, supplies...everything?"

Jacob nodded slowly.

"In theory, yes. The plant should still have most of its systems intact. The problem is that it's been shut down for years. The power grid that supplies the facility is old, probably in bad shape. But with the M21, you could bypass a lot of that. You wouldn't need a full grid-just enough power to get the central systems back online. Once that's done, the plant can start producing again, and if you're lucky, the automated systems will handle the rest."

"What's the catch," Cole asked, eyes narrowed, making Jacob sigh again.

"The catch is that you're going to need a way to reactivate the power grid, even if it's just temporary. And once you turn the hydroelectric plant back on, it's going to attract attention, and lots of it. The Great Basin Republic, the Red legion, even raiders in the area...they'll all come running the moment they realize someone's got a functioning weapons plant up and running. You'll need to be ready for that."

"So basically, I have to kickstart the factory," Cole said as he exhaled slowly,"and fend off every faction in the region at the same time. Sounds like a good time."

Jacob chuckled again, though this time the sound was more somber.

"It's not going to be easy, Cole. But if anyone can pull it off, it's you," Jacob said with a smile ,"your father believed in this project. He thought it could change everything. Maybe now, it still can."

The mention of his father caused a brief flash of anger to pass through Cole, but he swallowed it down. He wasn't doing this because of Logan, not being disrespectful to his dad, but this was more important than him or Cole. He was doing it because it was the only way to give Jeffery City a fighting chance against anyone who messed with them.

"What else do I need to know," Cole asked.

Jacob tapped the M21 again.

"When you get to the plant, look for the main control room. That's where the M21 needs to be hooked up. The interface should be easy enough to connect, but you'll need to run diagnostics on the systems to see what's salvageable. If the production lines are intact, you'll be in business. But be careful-there's no telling what kind of damage the plant's taken over the years."

Cole nodded, slipping the M21 back into his pack.

"Got it," Cole said,"anything else?"

"That's about all I can give you," Jacob said, shaking his head,"the rest is up to you."

Cole pushed off the wall, giving the old man a nod of appreciation.

"Thanks, Jacob," he said,"I owe ya one."

"Just try and help this time kid," Elias said with a smile,"that'll be enough for me."

Cole smiled as he walked off, thinking ahead in this world and survive another day