18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 365

Stella woke up feeling eyes on her. She rubbed her eyes and there he was—Jasper. Their gazes locked, neither wanting to look away.

"Stella, is this a dream?" His voice was rough, barely a whisper.

Stella tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "Jasper, are you trying to scare me to death?"

Jasper’s mind slowly cleared. He reached out and grabbed Stella's hand, this time with a warm, firm grip.

Stella gently touched his pale, gaunt face. "Why were you so reckless, giving your meds to Cooper?"

Jasper covered her hand with his, taking a moment before answering. "Cooper means everything to you. I wanted him to survive, to be there for you when I couldn’t."

If he weren't so weak, Stella would have slapped him. "Jasper, you need to love yourself first. If you don't love yourself, how can you love anyone else?"

Jasper didn't argue. He just kept looking at her, unable to break the connection.

Stella leaned closer, resting her head on his chest. "Promise me you won't do anything this foolish again."

"I promise."

"And remember to love yourself."

"Got it. I'll listen to you."

They held each other tightly, not wanting to let go even for a second. Jasper felt her tears and stroked her hair. "How did you find me?"

"It was Cooper." Stella nestled against his shoulder. "He saw the fireworks I set off and braved all the obstacles to find me."

Jasper was given a nutrient IV and some nourishing soup. As he regained some strength, Stella asked, "What happened with you and Cooper?"

Jasper’s memory drifted back to the chaos. He hadn’t been able to hold onto his sister’s hand but had managed to clutch Cooper. The dust storm was brutal, flinging them around. When he came to, they were both injured, Cooper’s belly slashed by a flying rock.

Stumbling through the storm, they were tossed around multiple times, Jasper’s thigh getting injured. They eventually found a cave for shelter, though he had no idea how long it took.

The rest was as Stella had guessed. The storm raged on, and with limited medical supplies, Jasper tended to Cooper’s wounds, rationing most of their food and water for the dog.

As more survivors sought refuge, some eyed Cooper hungrily. Jasper held out until the storm stopped, but by then, he couldn’t move and had to let Cooper go. But Cooper didn’t leave; he stayed to guard Jasper.

What happened after that, Jasper couldn’t know. He never imagined Cooper would not only protect him but also find a way to save them both. Maybe it was fate—if Cooper hadn’t seen the fireworks, Jasper might never have awakened.

Jasper patted the dog’s head. "Good boy." Cooper suddenly broke down, whimpering softly.

After calming Cooper, Jasper tried to sit up, anxiety clear in his voice. "What about Rosie?"

"Don't worry about Rosie. She's volunteering at the relief camp. She’ll be fine."

The bumpy ride was tough, but she eventually made it. The camp was being dismantled, many survivors had already left. Stella learned that the rescue mission in Raven Port had been called off; these last few days were for survivors to recuperate.

The mission was over, and it was time for the rescuers to head home. The survivors had to figure out their next steps on their own; no one could make those decisions for them.

Many clung to the camp, causing uproar and conflict with the staff. Some, unable to find their family, insisted the staff keep searching. Without the camp, where would they wait? Those alone and unable to survive on their own relied on the camp for at least two meals a day of simple vegetable gruel.

Cries, curses, and fights created a tragic cacophony, some even resorting to suicide in their despair. Stella scanned the crowd.

She spotted Rosie, Angela, and the injured Cody Lukas, with Kitty assisting him. Despite the disaster, the four of them were alive, a reason to be cheerful.

Just as Stella was about to approach, a camouflage-clad youth blocked their way, reaching out to grab Rosie. Angela's fist flew with the precision of a major league pitcher, connecting with a satisfying thud. "Born with a silver spoon and you just can't get enough, huh?"

The cocky teen’s mouth skewed sideways as blood trickled from the corner of his lips. In the next heartbeat, he pulled a gun from his pocket and jammed it against Angela's temple, spitting out venomous words, "Don’t push your luck. Believe me, I'll blow your brains out."

His cronies swarmed in like vultures, enclosing the group in a tight circle. Stella narrowed her eyes at the arrogant youth; his face rang a bell, reminiscent of a past encounter.

It hit her—wasn't this the same jerk they'd seen by the river, bullying those poor folks trying to dock their raft, only to have his own boat punctured and nearly capsized? He survived that?

Seems like the good die young, but troublemakers last an eternity. The son of the head of disaster relief, and instead of setting an example, he's out here throwing his weight around like he's the king of the hill. Talk about a chip off the old block gone wrong.

Without a hint of fear, Stella stepped forward...