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Civilization wouldn't end with nuclear fire.

It'd be tattered and torn by the likes of disease.

One that could mutate rapidly.

The greatest minds in the world couldn't understand it.

And therefore, it took over.

Chaos followed.

But the disease just didn't stop at death, no.

Those who survived it became something entirely different.

Aggressive, almost indestructible.

Cannibalistic. Mutants.

We began to call them hunters.

HUNTERS

Every once in a while, I find something out in the wild.

Something unexpected, useful.

Sometimes I even find things that remind me of a time

that was a hell of a lot better than right now.

Sometimes I wonder,

you know, bringing something back to the camp

is better than nothing, right?

It's definitely better than not returning at all.

Days are long and the terrain is tough,

but it keeps the monsters at bay for now.

This is John Wrecker,

Trace Operative, Station 222.

The world we knew is gone.

Pacifica has become a land of death and despair.

Every day, we fight to survive this new nightmare,

to survive each other.

Dangerous creatures now roam the island,

born out of the apocalypse.

They hunt us from station to station.

And I do the same to them.

They're evolving, becoming more dangerous.

And therefore, so must I.

When I'm out here by myself,

I start understanding these creatures more and more.

I start noticing patterns.

I start realizing their tendencies.

They're starting to become more predictable.

My biggest fear, though, is that I am too.

Sleep is a luxury.

But I know I'm gonna grind it out.

I think of my father

and my father always wanted me in those corners,

grinding it out.

I'm just praying to whatever gods are up there

that maybe let the hope shine in a bit first.

Hey, John. Didn't see you come in.

No, I don't suppose you did there, Lewis, did ya?

You get one?

Yes, sir.

I found their little feeding area,

just outside of that point right there.

What'd it take to bring her down?

A little too much C-4.

Anything left of 'em?

Got the usual bits and pieces.

Copy that.

Did you hear any chatter on the wire lately?

Yeah, 221.

They had a couple of refugees come down with a fever.

A lot of them didn't make it.

Shame.

John, that looks pretty rough.

Go get changed. Go see Grace.

She'll bandage you up.

Yeah.

Going out again soon?

Yeah, in the morning.

Anything I can get for you?

Besides a bit of shuteye?

I need more grenades.

Copy that. We're running pretty low.

Well then I guess I'll have to use them sparingly.

And some more C-4, please.

Oh, John, John, hang on.

I almost forgot.

Got you all fixed up.

Replaced the Lithium reactor,

managed to weld some of the plates back together,

and we fixed the comm unit.

Should be pretty good to go now.

No worries.

Should give you a tactical advantage.

Let's hope so.

All these people, my people.

I walk by, they're huddled in the camp.

They're looking for warmth.

They're looking for food.

They're looking for supplies.

Anything that can help them get by each day,

each hour, each minute.

John.

Sergeant Wrecker.

Ah, the war, it's been over for years.

I'm pretty sure we could lose the formalities.

If you say so.

What can I do for you?

Lewis thought that I might need a bit of a seeing to on...

Take a seat in my chair.

Thank you.

Not too deep. Let me grab some gauze.

Was it a scab?

No.

Was it close?

Close enough.

You know, John, their cells aren't like ours.

What?

The scabs, their cells,

after the infection takes over,

it mutates the cells.

You're telling me these creatures don't feel any pain?

That's correct.

It starts on the frontal lobe of the brain.

- What do you mean? - The brain starts

to disintegrate.

I've done a lot of research, uh, motor skills,

judgment, social skills,

they're all shot.

Yeah, but these things they...

they communicate with each other.

Yes, they do.

- And? - The cells mutate.

Bone density, it grows slightly.

Then the heart,

it goes to a crawl.

After several days of rapid mutation,

that's when the lights go on.

Rapid movement agitates them.

Motor function now increases dramatically.

As does hunger.

Yeah. Um...

What am I telling you all this for?

You already know it already.

I guess it's just a lot...

it's a lot better hearing it from somebody like you.

I do imagine a lot, by the way.

What do you imagine?

Oh.

Uh, I... I know you're going back out on patrol again soon.

So get some rest.

Get some food in ya.

And be safe.

I just found this incredible, uh, reading material

when I was...

and, uh... it's new words. Uh...

It is a base... it's baseball.

- Baseball? - Mm-hmm.

I love baseball.

I remember baseball.

I'm gonna, ah...

Oh, I...

Okay.

I got some tests to do.

Right. I'll...

Okay.

I'm not looking to mess up anybody's day.

All right?

Hey, guys.

I'm not looking for any trouble. Put the guns down.

Bastard!

Don't waste the ammo.

John? John?

John? John? John? John? John? John?

John? John?

Wake up. Wake up, John.

- What's going on? - We need you.

Yeah.

Okay.

Hey guys.

Go ahead, Lewis.

Tell him what you heard.

Scanning through the channels like I always do.

And I came across this communication.

Could barely make it out, and I...

You know, it's just better if I play it for you.

I repeat, we're under attack!

Something, scabs, they're here!

They must have followed a scouting party back to our camp.

If there are any trace operatives in the immediate vicinity,

we need help!

Did you try getting back to these guys?

John, I've tried every channel.

Every open line of communication.

I've just got static.

Breakwater Creek.

Breakwater Creek. Why do I know Breakwater Creek?

Isn't that... isn't that the old fifth well station?

We used to trade plants and spring water

with them a while back.

Okay.

Okay.

John.

What, you don't want me going out now?

I just don't understand why another operative can't go.

'Cause I'm pretty sure we don't have any around.

John to Lewis.

John to Lewis.

Lewis? John, do you read me?

Lock the bunker down. No one leaves.

I'm on my way back. Lewis, do you read?

Lewis, I'm staring at a trace map right now.

And if these things didn't know where we lived before,

they sure as hell do right now.

I'm on my way back. Over.

What's this?

Hi, John.

It looks like a bladed weapon of some sort.

A bladed weapon of some sort?

Are you kidding me?

I've never seen anything handcrafted like that before

in all my tracing days.

Where'd you... where'd you find it?

Are you kidding me?

Ye... yeah, where'd you find it?

Where did I find...? I found that at a marauder camp.

These scabs are making their own weapons.

They're crafting their own fucking weapons.

I haven't heard any chatter on the radio about this.

I haven't heard anything from any other camps.

That's your job. That's exactly what you should be doing.

You should be on the radio.

You should know these things. I'm going out there.

I'm naked. I have no idea.

And yet these scabs are out there now creating,

crafting their own weaponry.

You're supposed to be on top of this!

I'm going out there. I'm risking my life.

I'm risking the lives of everybody here in this bunker.

And that's what I gotta go out and find?

What are you worried about bladed weapons for?

You got guns and explosives and all sorts of technology.

They're making it on their own!

I mean, how do you know it was the scabs and not the marauders?

You said it yourself, you found it in a marauder camp.

I don't know.

I'm going out there. This is your job.

You need to be on that thing.

That is what you do.

That is what you do.

I mean, there has been some chatter on the radio

of some refugees gone missing past couple of weeks.

I mean, that... that does seem to connect,

to make a little bit of sense.

Lewis, goddammit, they're handcrafting weaponry!

They're evolving! Can you imagine if they get their hands

on guns and explosives?

- Jesus. - No.

No.

This, you, me, everything we're doing,

the whole bunker,

done and dusted.

I... this bunker is done!

These lives that we're trying to protect

are for naught!

John, how long have you been out there?

Three days!

John, you look like shit.

You need some rest.

You're no good to us dead.

You do your job, John.

Protect us.

You wear the colors.

You wear the armor.

You must know the words.

Convince me you're not a thief

who just stole some soldier's uniform.

I'm John T Wrecker.

Identification number 00324.

This is my quadrant.

This is my sector.

I trained in the Anchorage facility.

I trained in the Anchorage facility.

John T Wrecker. 00324.

This is my quadrant. This is my sector.

And how long you been hunting for?

I don't know.

None of us do.

You don't wanna go in there.

Well there's problems to the north,

as I'm sure you've heard.

Thanks.

Yeah, I've heard.

A lot of missing people.

Is that what brings you around this way?

Yeah, for the most part.

Plus there's been shortages of ammunition

for quite some time.

Pretty sure that's been a problem for us,

for everyone, everywhere, for quite some time.

So what's your situation down in this sector?

I'm starting to notice the scabs are fewer

and farther between.

Well, that's different from my experiences.

- Pardon? - Scabs, I've...

I've seen them migrate a little bit more.

Migrate?

- Like a herd? - Something like that.

That makes sense.

Go on.

There's something new out there, from what I gather.

Yeah, there's been a few instances

where I've run into some survivors who...

who've been to camps with missing people

and in the way those camps have been...

attacked is...

It's different.

Yeah. I'm starting to notice that too.

How do you mean?

I'm checking out these camps

and there are no bodies to be found.

There's no way that one of these creatures, these monsters,

whatever you wanna call it, these scabs,

there's no way that they can do that by themselves.

These things are next to invincible.

You can barely kill 'em.

And now I'm starting to think they're not

working alone anymore.

And I'm thinking if we can get a group of people together,

prepare them properly,

that we can all work together and we can take them out.

- No. - Yes.

We need your help.

I need your help.

No.

- Yes. - No.

Why not? We need help. We need to work together.

We have to bring everybody, side-by-side

and start picking them off like they're picking us off.

- It could work. Yes. - No.

- Why not? - Because.

- Because what? - Because you know.

You know we're depleted, you know we have no ammunitions.

Why do you think I'm walking around here?

I lost my entire camp.

And you think that you can just kill all these?

With what? What do you have?

Three clips? How many clips do you have?

- How many clips? - Three.

- You have three clips? - I have three clips.

You have three clips.

They've told you.

We've ran out of soldiers.

We have no supplies. We have no ammunitions.

What do you expect?

I'm expecting to do something.

It's not gonna wor...

I'm not gonna sit around here and just die.

Well, it's not gonna work. Okay?

So do me a favor, pack your shit,

and when I come back, be gone. Understand?

Yeah, I understand.

John. I was just about to call you.

I'm just happy to be counted, sir.

It's easy to think you've been forgotten

when you're left out here in this pretty piece of the world.

Oh, no. Quite the contrary.

There's a lot of activity going on

in your neck of the woods.

I just received a video transmission

that was sent over six days ago.

Yes. 227.

And what's the status on that, General?

Yeah, they've been dark for over 24 hours.

They've been dark?

We can assume they've been overrun.

Give me a sit rep, John.

What's the climate like over in your quadrant?

Pretty typical until a few days ago.

Some scavenging scabs, poaching refugees, marauders.

I tracked them. I took care of it.

And then you know what happened?

And then you saw this new breed, huh?

Yeah, I did.

Scabs have always been tough.

Their biological makeup stresses their cells

and nerve endings, but we've always known

and dealt with the fact that they're hard to kill,

but this new breed is much more... trying.

How many trace operatives have we lost recently, sir?

Look, John, you know as well as I do

that our numbers are dwindling.

Especially since the Red Road rose up back east

and started their own personal war over territory.

They've actually conquered quite a bit

but we can't fight two wars at once.

Sir, how many?

I've got 16 operatives left

on the entire western seaboard.

These new scabs, they've been watching us,

waiting, it would appear.

Still primitive in their fashion

of using bladed weaponry,

but they're communicating, coordinating attacks.

They've killed over 50 operatives in the last 10 days.

Who knows how many refugees?

Hundreds, maybe even a thousand.

Well, I have reason to believe we have two of those scabs out here,

and I'm fairly certain that they know

where our bunker is located.

Then they'll come for you, John.

What's your inventory like?

Low. Yeah.

Always low.

Although I'm sure I could fashion together

whatever we needed.

Do a quick MacGyver if necessary.

Everything else is peachy though.

We've been working on something in the lab.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, right?

I may have something that could work.

Can you get to an airdrop if I can manage

to get something to you within a few miles?

I think anything would help at this point, sir.

Okay.

I've got one available helo with enough extra fuel

for a slight detour.

I'll send you the coordinates through the telecom.

Hell, I'll even throw in something from the old war

that might help.

I appreciate it.

You'll know what to do with it.

But John, only take a dose

if you know you're in for a battle.

You understand what I'm saying?

Yes, sir.

Look, I can't make any promises about this stuff,

but it works, then luck's gonna be on our side.

Good luck, soldier.

After receiving the care package from General Taylor,

I headed back to camp.

It was refreshing fighting something more human than not,

but nothing about it felt... human.

Killing to be able to kill.

I know Grace or... or Lewis would have something to say about it,

but if they asked me right now what I thought,

I'd tell 'em straight to their faces

that I'm glad it's in our hands now.

Wrecker, can you hear me? Come in.

Listen, I don't know if you can talk

but you got to understand something.

Grace went out looking for you.

She hasn't come back.

I think she's gone missing.

Hello, John.

I was just given some information about your post.

Lewis, he's a good soldier.

Anyway, he's a good asset.

Did you get the package?

Everyone is a soldier at this point.

We're fighting a losing battle.

And I need to know if what I gave you works.

Do you understand me?

You've always been one of the best soldiers in my arsenal.

Humanity needs every man and woman we can muster.

You understand me?

I see you had no problem finding me again.

What is it? What's wrong?

I lost something today.

Well, I guess that's something you're just going

to have to get used to.

Shit.

It was August, or I...

think it was, I have no fucking clue.

There were two men in my quadrant.

We lost Miller a few months ago.

Son of a bitch didn't even die by one of those scumbags,

he had pneumonia, if you can believe that shit.

Anyway, I was outpost for a couple of days

and when I got back... camp was destroyed.

No bodies, no bones.

Just the smell of death and evidence of slaughter.

Did you go out and look for anyone?

What difference would that make?

I know they were dead.

Being eaten off somewhere in the dark.

I failed my mission.

This is a different type of Hunter.

All right? They're still animalistic but...

they're starting to remember that they're human.

They're starting to remember the English language.

And I'm not talking about grunts or scribbles.

I'm talking about they're starting to learn how to write.

Yeah. And I've seen that too.

More than one is just impossible.

It's impossible.

That's why I have one of these.

'Cause you need one hell of a punch.

The doctors wanted a sample of them.

They just don't have the resources anymore.

So now it's just every man, woman, and child

fending for themselves.

Some reason I think God just fucking hates us.

Well, I need your help.

No one else has the training.

No one else knows how to use the firepower.

Plus maybe... you and your death wish

wouldn't hurt us.

Now is a chance for you to redeem yourself.

Whether you want to or not,

you have an obligation to the oath,

to the people that you swore to protect,

to get big where others hide and they get small.

You wear those colors because you honor those

who came before you.

Honor them by fighting in their memory,

fighting for the ones that you swore to protect.

I'm going back to my post.

And if you feel like completing your mission,

you know where to find me.

You still recording?

Commander is gonna wanna see these things in CQC.

Keep it rolling, Wrecker.

A limb for a limb.

This is John Wrecker, Trace Operative, Station 222.

We have disbanded

and I've sent what little survivors we had left to another outpost.

One where hopefully they can find safety.

On the orders of General Taylor,

I was given a serum

and I wanna confirm that it worked.

No pain and a surge of adrenaline overtakes the body.

It is my hope and my belief that this serum

will put us on a level playing field with those scabs.

I've killed two of 'em, this new breed,

but I am certain that there are more out there.

I no longer consider this outpost my home.

And I believe that I've found a new purpose,

a new mission,

not to protect just one place in particular,

but to roam Pacifica and wage new war

on this new breed of hunter.

This is John T. Wrecker signing off.