18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 486

Jasper thought the man with the pleading blue eyes looked familiar. Wasn’t he the same guy who blew a kiss at Stella from across the room yesterday?

“Darling,” he whispered, barely audible above the whistling wind, “time to send him to meet his maker.”

With a swift motion, Jasper's blade met the man's neck, ending his life. The other two shared the same fate, their souls quickly sent to the afterlife.

“Rosie, take over the patrol,” Jasper instructed as they headed back inside their sanctuary, Arcadia.

Worried that the melting snow would ruin their arsenal, they dug tirelessly with shovels in hand. After more than an hour, they unearthed a treasure trove: eight submachine guns, five daggers, sixteen pistols, wristwatches, gold chains, and a heap of clothes and shoes.

Stella, superstitious about bad luck, tossed the clothes and shoes into a shipping container in Arcadia, not even allowing them into the villa. The melting snow was repurposed in The Garden to irrigate the crops.

The massacre of sixty Union Base members meant a fierce feud was inevitable. But Stella was indifferent; they hadn't given her a choice, and constant silence would only embolden them.

“Hah, just seventeen branches of their network,” she scoffed. “Our ancestors have fought them before. If we could win once, we could win again. And if push comes to shove, why not turn it into a sports event?” She chuckled at her own joke.

As night fell, Stella ventured out to dispose of the bodies and collect snow. Keen to avoid any ill fortune, she went further than usual, clearing the surrounding snow first, then dumping the bodies on the frozen surface before covering them with a fresh layer. With two floors' worth of snow stockpiled, Stella returned indoors to rest.

Expecting the Union Base to strike back that very night, Stella was surprised when dawn came with no sign of them. Instead, the Russians paid another visit. Armed with a few pounds of potatoes and corn, they still sought an alliance with Stella.

Never underestimate the Russians' intelligence capabilities; they were aware of yesterday's events. Indeed, the Australians were a force to be reckoned with. Usually reserved and patient, but ruthlessly efficient in combat, they had wiped out their enemies without a sound.

The Ivans were persistent. “Jasper, Stella, yesterday's men vanished without a trace. They won't let this slide. We should join forces.”

Stella's response remained the same. “Thanks for the offer, but we're used to our freedom. We don’t like tying ourselves to anyone.”

The Ivans resigned. “Alright, but we're still friends.” Though the alliance was off the table, they shared the direction of the Union Base's stronghold. “They've got assault rifles, bombs, grenades, Molotov cocktails, flamethrowers...”

Stella almost laughed. With such an arsenal and still reduced to a mere few thousand men, what fueled their confidence? Perhaps it wasn’t confidence but an intrinsic disdain for other races.

Not wanting to take the Russians' potatoes and corn for nothing, Stella traded them some dried sweet potatoes and taro. Ivans was thrilled. “Finally, something other than potatoes.”

As he left, something seemed to strike him. “Have you encountered anything strange lately?”

Stella was puzzled. “Like what?”

Ivans pondered. “Animals, maybe?”