Stella fetched some medicine, mixed it with water, and fed it to Rosie.
She was not the best at comforting people, "Rosie is so strong. She won't leave you."
Jasper didn't respond. He quietly sat beside his sister, gently stroking her cheek, "It's all my fault. I failed to protect you."
Stella sighed inwardly. He had done his best. Who could have predicted a sudden hailstorm thousands of feet in the sky, with hailstones as big as fists? In their previous life, there had been no hailstorm.
He was human, not a god. There was no need to blame himself so much.
In an apocalyptic world, no one could truly protect others.
"Rosie, please wake up. You're the only family I have left."
Sensing Jasper’s sorrow, Stella gently placed her hand on his shoulder, "You have me too. We'll be okay."
Jasper gripped her hand tightly, "Stella, thank you for being with me."
Perhaps it was Rosie's tragic death in his previous life that had shattered his usually calm demeanor. Stella could feel his helplessness and despair, but apart from being there for him, there was nothing she could do.
She checked on Rosie every half an hour, and Jasper stayed by her side without leaving.
At noon, Stella brought him some soup, but he had no appetite.
The brain was too complicated for Stella to treat. All she could do was observe from the outside, and the situation seemed relatively stable.
Around three or four in the afternoon, Rosie groggily opened her eyes, "Jasper?"
Jasper was overjoyed, "Stella, Rosie woke up."
Stella hurried over, "Rosie, how are you feeling?"
Rosie opened her eyes wide, staring blankly at the people before her, even reaching out to touch, "Jasper?"
Then, she started to dry heave, the world spinning around her.
Stella noticed that Rosie seemed a little slow, her vision blurry, looking tired and sleepy. But after some simple questioning, Rosie was still conscious. It was clear that she had a severe concussion, but they could not let their guard down, and they needed to continue monitoring her.
Stella managed to feed her half a bowl of chicken soup, and Rosie quickly fell asleep again. When she woke up again, it was midnight. Rosie was feeling much better and managed to eat a little.
She couldn't sit upright, as it made her feel dizzy and nauseous.
After giving her medicine, Rosie fell asleep again.
Jasper finally relaxed a bit, "Shall we go back?"
It was night time, less likely to be noticed by others. Stella led him and Rosie away from Arcadia.
They had left their Hummer at Eastwood Eden and chose an off-road vehicle that they had collected from Silver Asylum.
Jasper drove carefully, while Stella sat in the back taking care of Rosie.
Eastwood Eden was guarded even at night. Christian happened to be there too, he came out of the security room, "Is Rosie alright?"
"She's okay for now, just needs rest." Stella rolled down the window, "How about you guys?"
"We have a few injured too, but nothing serious. We also received our food and fresh water supplies. I told the committee about your special situation. They registered it and said you can collect your supplies after Thanksgiving."
Stella was informed that the committee had implemented strict security measures fearing chaos on site. The food and water were locked in a storeroom with three iron doors. The distribution window didn't hold a large amount of supplies and was replenished every half hour.
The amount of supplies that were actually stolen was minimal. Once the situation stabilized, supplies would be distributed as usual.
Back at Eastwood Eden, after the hailstorm had stopped, Mark had organized everyone in the community to collect hailstones.
Due to the large area, they had collected a considerable amount of hailstones. Christian brought out a full bucket of water, "This is what Mark saved for you."
Stella thanked him, "Please leave it for now. We'll come to pick it up tomorrow."
Upon returning to their apartment, as soon as they opened the door, the dog rushed over eagerly.
Stella whispered, "Don't disturb Rosie."
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: 18 Floors Above the Apocalypse