18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 518

The folks from Russia swung by to pick up some leafy greens.

Ivans didn't show up himself, but he made sure to send word that the ships from Ocean Point Naval Station had indeed arrived. They were there to evacuate all the Aussies from the Arctic.

After years of bartering, the Russians had picked up a few phrases in Aussie slang, but that was about it. They babbled excitedly, their faces animated as they spoke. Stella couldn't understand a word, but she could tell from their gestures that the evacuation must've hit some snags. Regardless, they all managed to leave safely in the end.

Stella smiled, offering only a heartfelt "thanks" in return. The trade in greens went on. Each time, Ivans would throw in a box of antiques as a bonus. At first, they were Aussie relics, but then items from other countries started to appear. No matter what he brought, Stella accepted it all—until the Russians sent over a mummy. Stella couldn't help herself; she sent the mummy right back.

New neighbors sprouted up around the edges. They'd eye Stella's mansion, pondering what riches it held, but they never dared to make a move, knowing well her close dealings with the Russians and the big dog owners. As more neighbors arrived, so did more customers for the leafy greens. Stella treated them all the same, fair and square, no matter who they were.

In the blink of an eye, three months passed, and it was the cusp of summer in the Arctic, with temperatures rising. The snowstorms lessened, and Stella took to walking around her front and back yard daily. The three little pups gobbled up food and grew fast, waddling behind their pooper-scooper, tumbling and play-fighting in the snow.

Stella sat in a mound of snow, her gaze fixed on the ice house in the distance, deep in thought. The ice was tilting more noticeably each day. The ball used to check balance rolled faster and faster. The nutrient solution in the hydroponic vessels slanted more. Sometimes, in the dead of night, her body would shiver. At first, she was alert for earthquakes, but she gradually got used to it. The tectonic movements were different from earthquakes, felt milder. But Stella knew, the land was rising steadily. With the rise, there would be sinkage. The Arctic's survivors could no longer break through the ice to hunt crocodiles.

Stella made it a point to take photos every day, always clearing the snow around the ice house first. She couldn't help but smile at the containers leaning more and more to one side. Waiting was agonizing, and even though she had acclimated to the Arctic cold, her heart grew increasingly restless. Rosie felt the same, sometimes standing atop a snowdrift, lost in the distance. With temperatures on the rise and the cessation of blizzards, a rare sunshine emerged.

Ivans, who hadn't visited in a long while, came riding up again on his snowmobile. He came for greens, several boxes tied to the back seat. "Ginger, these are the last relics left from Union Base, almost used them for firewood," he said. Cryptic scripts, some on paper, some on parchment, he couldn't recognize the culture, so he left them in a corner. Having traded for so long, he figured they might as well all go to Stella.

Stella followed his lead, "Summer is coming, the outer ice will melt, and hunting should get better." Ivans disagreed. "Ginger, rising temperatures mean the outer ice melts, and survivors will move inward. No matter how abundant the game, it won't keep up with the hunting. The Arctic will only get more dangerous." With several hundred at the base, no one dared to stir trouble, but Stella and Jasper needed to be careful. Having survived a decade of disaster, Ivans had seen his share of bloodshed and warned them with good intentions: "Keep safe."

After finishing the egg fried rice and taking his traded greens, Ivans roared away on his snowmobile. The two hauled the boxes inside, finding them full of ancient documents. Stella couldn't decipher the specific text, but they were undoubtedly Aussie artifacts, at least a millennium old. Jasper browsed through a few scrolls, his expression serious, "These could be relics from the ancient Western Xia." Apart from the valuable documents, there were several exquisite Thangkas and Buddha statues, worn by a thousand years. Items long ago stolen by foreigners, how they ended up at Union Base was anyone's guess.

Staring at the boxes of artifacts, Stella was momentarily lost in thought. Civilization persisted, but the homeland was gone. After ten years, she quickly regained her composure. Stella pondered Ivans' words, "Are sea survivors really dwindling, or is that why none have drifted to the Arctic?" Jasper was not entirely convinced. "There might be some truth to that, but if a survivor can last three months at sea, they're most likely to make it through a year." Those without skill and wit would have perished at the outset. Which of the survivors lacked experience? Without food, they would have figured out how to fish from the ocean.

As Jasper flipped through the photos she had taken, a hunch started to form. "Is it possible that land has emerged elsewhere, which is why there are fewer survivors heading to the Arctic?"