18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 508

Mark's gaunt and aged features were still unmistakable, and Stella recognized him immediately, despite the toll time had taken on his appearance. Her face stayed calm, but inside, her emotions churned.

The apocalypse had honed its butcher's knife to a deadly sharpness. She remembered Mark as a scholarly gentleman with an air of easy grace, even as the world crumbled around them. He'd risen from being the manager of Eastwood Eden to the deputy mayor of Griffith. Time had weathered his face but refined his presence. Now, he looked like a withered old man. He was so thin it seemed a gust from the Arctic could topple him.

Stella's emotions were a tangled mix, but her expression was composed. After Ivans introduced them, she wore the appropriate face of a familiar hometown greeting. "What a coincidence, to meet a fellow Griffith native here."

After exchanging pleasantries, Ivans got everyone to work. They brought wooden stakes and steel materials salvaged from the transport ship to expand the ice hut. First, they selected a spot and packed the snow tightly. Then they used sharp knives and saws to cut large blocks of snow, stacking them one by one.

Concerned about the vegetable supply, Ivans was particularly invested in the ice hut. "Ginger, it'll take a long time for the snow blocks to freeze solid. We need to find a way to melt some snow." So, Stella, accompanied by Rosie, went outside to gather snow and boiled it before carrying it out in wooden barrels. Ivans gently ladled the hot water over the snow blocks. In the subzero temperatures, the snow and water quickly merged and froze, increasing in hardness.

The project was extensive, and Stella provided the meals. Baked potatoes and crocodile meat, previously bartered with Ivans, were prepared right there in the ice hut. Everyone sat around the fire, either baking potatoes or grilling meat, and washing it down with a hearty swig of vodka. Stella cracked a few crocodile eggs into the boiling pot and tossed in a handful of greens. The pot emptied as soon as it boiled, the food disappearing so fast you'd think they'd scoop it out with their bare hands if they could.

Ivans ate with gusto, his words dripping with insincerity, "Ginger, Ho, why aren't you eating?" Stella smiled, "You've worked hard today, eat more." After finishing the egg drop soup with greens, Ivans bit into the crocodile meat, "If only we had some chili peppers and a sprinkle of cumin, it'd be perfect." They missed Australia's barbecues, hot pots, and the variety of street foods.

Stella and Jasper stuck to potatoes, wary of food that wasn't guaranteed safe. And Rosie? They didn't let her show her face. A young girl blossoming into beauty was no blessing in this harsh world. With more survivors arriving at the Arctic, and the Russians following in their predecessors' footsteps, recruiting more and more to their ranks, the majority of survivors were male. What if carnal thoughts about Rosie arose? So, Rosie stayed out of sight as much as possible, bundled up so only her eyes were visible.