The Last of Us: Stay Alive

"Zz… Alpha Team, we're entering the building."
Boom!
"Zz… We've made contact with the enemy—we're in a nest!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Zz… We're in a damn nest—bomb the whole building!"
At the Research and Control Center, Alan kept watching a video replay showing an elite military unit locked in close combat inside an infected nest.
The infected seemed to gather in the underground areas of buildings, hiding from the constant bombings throughout the city.
At night, they emerged to hunt, attacking the most remote shelters where security was weakest.
By ignoring the main defense bases in the city, the infected focused their attacks on the rear zones as if they understood strategy—then disappeared again.
Whenever security was strengthened at the rear bases, the infected would attack from the front, causing massive damage.
"Temporarily halt the elimination operations. Inform the Air Force to bomb the entire city," General Shelton said, frowning as he reviewed the casualty reports.
A soldier, also reviewing the data, added, "We've tried using flamethrowers, but they only work on the big ones. As for the damage, it's causing major problems for the ground teams."
Just then, another soldier stepped forward and announced that Alan had arrived. "General Shelton, Captain Alan Rogers is here."
Upon hearing this, General Shelton turned and saw Alan standing, watching the battle data. "Captain, come with me."
Without another glance, General Shelton left the command room. Alan, recognizing the gesture, quickly followed him into the hallway and reached out to steady the older man, who had until recently carried himself with strength.
"God, Alan, I'm sorry about your brother…" Shelton didn't pull away from Alan's hand—he'd known him since he joined the army and thought of him as a son.
"He was a soldier, General Shelton…"
"He was my right hand back then. When everything went to hell, he was the one who decided we needed to break away from the politicians' idiotic decisions." Shelton looked at Alan, who seemed composed, then released his hand and walked toward his office.
Alan followed him. Once inside, he closed the door behind them.
"I don't even know where to start…"
"Don't. I sent soldiers to bring you here for one reason—I want you to replace me."
"General, don't say that…" Alan didn't want to accept the sudden retirement of the man who had been his emotional anchor more than once.
"I'm dying, Rogers… Cough Cough Damn it. Who would've thought I wouldn't get a peaceful retirement?" Shelton removed the bloodied handkerchief from his trembling hands.
"What are your orders, General?"
"Tell me about that hydroelectric plant plan. It might be our best shot, given the options we have right now."
"Well, based on the parameters…" Alan began to lay out his ideas, and General Shelton listened closely.
Alan had studied every map, every infected migration pattern, every abandoned route, and every potential energy source. Out of all the possibilities, only one stood out: an old hydroelectric plant hidden in the dense mountains and thick forests, far from any major city.
The place had everything.
First, energy self-sufficiency. The plant could generate continuous electricity, without relying on fossil fuels or fragile solar panels. With that, they could ensure lighting, communication systems, automated defense, food refrigeration, water filtration—even research laboratories. In a world that had collapsed, having a self-sustaining energy source was a near-divine luxury.
Second, water. The river feeding the dam offered a natural, renewable supply. It could be channeled, purified, and stored—ensuring the survival of hundreds of thousands without relying on wells or uncertain rainfall.
The terrain was another key factor. Surrounded by steep slopes with only two main access points, the site was easy to defend and hard to assault. The entry routes could be fortified and monitored constantly, and the forest acted as a natural barrier. In an emergency, they could create hidden paths for evacuations or defensive ambushes.
Moreover, the area allowed for sustainable expansion. The fertile soil and favorable climate made it possible to farm on terraces or in greenhouses, raise livestock in controlled spaces, build fish ponds, and produce food on-site. A stable community could be built—not just a temporary shelter.
Strategically, the dam was near several semi-abandoned rural towns. From that base, they could begin reclaiming territory, clearing small pockets of infected, securing secondary routes, and setting up forward outposts connected by radios or short-range drones.
In the long term, the plant could become the heart of a new order—a base not just for defense, but for reconstruction. A place where survivors could be trained, educated, healed, and organized to retake the country, step by step.
It wasn't just about surviving. It was about resisting with purpose. About building something that would last.
Alan knew it: there was no safer haven than one that could produce its own food, generate its own energy, defend itself, and plant hope. And that dam, hidden among mountains and trees, was their last chance to start over.