18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 506

It wasn't so much about setting up shop as it was about killing time. Arcadia had everything one could need, and with neighbors so close, cooking up a storm wasn’t really an option.

Stella took stock of their supplies, planning to replenish their stash of ready-made foods. Pizza pockets, frozen burritos, dinner rolls, and cinnamon swirls were on her list. They'd burned through a lot recently and needed to restock soon. Once prepared, they could store everything in Arcadia, ready to heat up whenever.

So, it was back to kneading dough, rolling it out, and letting it rise. Rosie got busy with the prep, and Jasper lent a hand when he returned from patrol with Stella.

The hydroponic veggies were sprouting, but the success rate was just okay, and their growth was nothing to write home about. Stella kept tweaking the temperature, adjusting the grow lights, and changing up the nutrient mix. After several tries, she finally got the hang of it, and the bok choy and lettuce began to thrive.

One evening, while out on patrol, they heard a commotion in the distance, followed by gunfire. Jasper raised his binoculars and observed, "They're hunting crocs."

In the Arctic, where crops wouldn’t grow, people had to find other ways to survive, and hunting crocodiles had become the go-to. They’d drill holes in the ice during the day and set up glow-in-the-dark nets to catch them at night.

Stella was surprised, "Those rich folks?"

Jasper chuckled, "Fortunes change, Stella. Now, you're the real tycoon."

After making sure the area was safe, they hurried home, locking their door tightly and minding their own business.

On the twenty-eighth day, Ivans showed up on his snowmobile, "Stella, how do you make those dumplings?"

The Russians had been living comfortably lately and were now on a quest for better quality of life. On the day their base fell apart, they scavenged a lot of crocodile carcasses from outside the base, perfect for making dumplings.

This time, Ivans brought someone with him. The man looked East Asian, around his fifties or sixties, gaunt with deep-set eyes, thinning hair, and yellowed eyes. His mouth hung open in shock when he saw Stella, revealing a few missing teeth.

Ivans, ever observant, asked with a smile, "Yang, do you two know each other?"

The man named Yang hesitated, "Stella?"

His voice was hoarse and weak. Stella examined him but had no recollection. He was likely one of the 'livestock' from the base. With Ivans present, Stella remained cool, "You know me?"

Considering that even Julia had made it to the Arctic, it was possible that someone from the Goldbridge base was there too. After so many years of disaster, survivors changed a lot, but they still recognized her.

The man gave a sheepish laugh, "Sort of. We used to live in the same neighborhood and would occasionally see each other downstairs. We never spoke, though, so you probably don't remember me."

Stella played along, "What's your name?"

"Christian."

After some thought, Stella shook her head, "Sorry, doesn’t ring a bell."

Christian fell silent, head bowed. Ivans teased, "With looks like yours, Stella, no man could forget you."

Stella didn't indulge him, "Ivans, there isn’t a soul in Australia who can’t wrap a dumpling. Comrade Yang must know how. Why come all the way to ask?"

Ivans blurted out, "Christian's been locked up by Union Base for so long, he's a bit out of it. One moment he says he can do it, the next he can’t. Last time, he made his dumplings into round soup dumplings."

Human nature was complex, and Stella couldn’t be sure, "They might not mean us harm, but they’re definitely on guard."

After their leader’s death, the second-in-command had taken over, but it wasn’t a position he had fought for, so he sat uneasy, fearful of repeating the same fate, seeing threats in every shadow.

As for Christian, what was his angle today? Revealing their acquaintance, yet acting distant.

The Russians had food; they weren’t as cruel as Union Base. They hadn’t harmed the 'livestock' and had even granted them a type of freedom. But it was a limited freedom.

Today’s interaction suggested an unequal relationship, one of subordination. In other words, the Russians still ranked them.

Back at their base, Ivans boasted with the greens, "Krakowiecki family, look at this!"

Christian returned to the planting area, mindlessly tending to the potatoes. At night, he dragged his numb body back to the second sub-level of the underwater fortress. Over thirty people crammed into one room, silent and lifeless, working upon waking, sleeping when they lay down.

After a while, someone lay down beside him and whispered, "Old Yang, heard the Russkies took you out today?"

Christian came to slightly, "Yeah, they took me to get some greens."

"Greens?" The man furrowed his brow, "With the Aussies?"

More than Aussies, they were old acquaintances. Learning it was Stella and Jasper, Mark was stunned, "How did they end up in the Arctic?"