18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 443

Brady and his team didn’t have a clue, but they figured the military higher-ups would be the last to leave, probably on a warship or plane.

Stella looked worried. “The last to retreat?”

Jasper noticed her concern and turned to Brady. “Do you know what the other Kindle Society teams are up to?”

Brady shook his head. If they hadn’t bumped into 2688, they wouldn’t have known that East Base was tasked with building Hope Point.

The weather was good, and after two days of rest, the submarines were ready to set sail. Suddenly, at 0945, they spotted a ship at three o'clock.

Playing it safe, 2688 wanted to dive and leave, but Brady and the others noticed a red star painted on the side of the ship.

This was a sign of faith.

They decided to make contact.

Stella, wary of danger, handed Brady a bullhorn. “Hey there, friends! Where are you coming from?”

The crew on the distant ship noticed the submarines and responded excitedly in familiar language, waving and shouting, “Hey, we’re from the official Northwestern Base.”

Northwestern Base?

Brady, still cautious, asked, “And where exactly is this Northwestern Base?”

“Qindu.”

“Qindu, huh? Can you tell me how to make a proper burger?”

Indeed, nothing speaks to the soul like food. Stella nearly burst out laughing.

But just knowing how to make a burger wasn’t enough for Brady. He threw out another challenge. “Fate brought us together. How about singing us some rock and roll?”

The folks on the other ship were skin and bones and barely had the energy to sing. If Stella were them, she’d want to throw her shoe at him.

But to their surprise, someone actually started singing. At first, it was just a few voices, but then more joined in.

Commander Zhou observed their lips and expressions the whole time, growing more serious. He consulted with 2688. “We’ve got Northwesterners on our sub. They think those survivors on the ship are alright, kindred spirits. Should we bring them along?”

A ship sails the seas, a submarine patrols the depths. If those folks had any sinister plans, there’d be a safe distance between them.

Stella had no objections. “Sure, you guys guide them on.”

Submarine captains, without exception, were seasoned veterans.

There were several hundred survivors on the ship. For safety reasons, Brady didn’t share their coordinates but told them a new base was being established and they could follow.

The other side was just as cautious, probing about the origin of the two submarines.

Learning they were from South Base, they seized the chance to counter-question. “What do you guys like to have for brunch?”

“Brunch comes with everything—chicken feet, shrimp dumplings, rice rolls, pineapple buns.”

Still not reassured, they asked, “How do you folks cuss?”

“Gosh darn it, you numbskull!”

Hearing the familiar banter, the other side wasn’t angry but rather relieved, and after half an hour of negotiation, they agreed to follow.

So, 2688 led the way, with 0945 extending its periscope to guide the merchant ship, keeping a watchful eye on their movements.

For three days, they sailed. They pushed hard during calm seas by day and rested at night.

Throughout these days of observation, they detected no abnormality on the ship.

With a new destination, life on the merchant ship grew more vibrant. “Hey, neighbors, we’ve got some fresh veggies here. Want some?”

“What kind of veggies?”