18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 521

The term "land" was a bit generous for the tiny speck of earth that was more accurately a cay in the vast ocean.

The Black Hawk didn't even attempt a landing, continuing its full-throttle flight. With over 1500 kilometers behind them, finding solid ground was becoming critical.

A fishing boat wouldn't be sturdy enough for the chopper, but perhaps a yacht...

As Stella pondered their options, Rosie suddenly stood up, her voice vibrant with excitement, "Bro, land!"

In the midst of the azure sea, a chain of mountains emerged, not large but dissected by the waters into a string of islands stretching beyond sight.

The helicopter began to descend, aiming for a valley amongst the mountainous islands that offered a less rugged terrain for landing. The gusts from the rotors whipped up a storm of dust as they touched down.

Stella jumped out only to be greeted by a blast of hot air. The transition from the sub-zero Arctic to the sweltering summer of the islands was a shock to the system, sweat breaking out despite shedding layers in the heat.

A swirl of sand caught her off guard, stinging her eyes. Crouching down, she examined the soil, a brown, lifeless dirt that crumbled at a touch. It was alkaline, saturated from over a year under the sea, and now sterile.

Stella sighed inwardly. The land had risen, but it was barren.

Reclamation would not be easy, but the return to terra firma was a victory for humanity.

However, Snowflake wasn't faring well. The poor thing vomited as soon as they landed, suffering from both homesickness and heatstroke.

The kids looked wilted too, but Cooper, having weathered ten years of brutal climate changes, was coping better, though worriedly tending to his family.

Stella quickly secured the helicopter and rolled out the RV. Once inside, she cranked up the AC.

Snowflake, a creature of the polar regions, flopped on the floor, panting. The unfamiliar heat was too much.

Stella had anticipated this and brought snow from Arcadia, which she now dumped into a large tub for Snowflake and the pups to lounge in, providing some relief.

To ward off the heatstroke, Stella served everyone a glass of refreshing watermelon juice. After a simple meal to satiate their hunger, they each took turns bathing and resting.

When they awoke in the evening, the sun was still fierce, a reminder of the damaged atmosphere due to the calamities they'd endured.

Opening the windows of the RV, the salty sea breeze wafted in. They were close to the shore, just a few hundred meters away.

Sunsets had become mundane after months adrift at sea, but now, as Stella checked on Snowflake's health, she donned a sun hat and ventured out.

Walking hand in hand with Jasper along the narrow coastline, they felt a surreal detachment from the world they once knew.

Rosie, sitting some distance away, tactfully gave them space, while Cooper watched over his family from inside the RV.

She had saved a cornucopia of seeds over the years, and now she scattered them across the nearby hills like a generous nature spirit.

The soggy soil clung to the seeds as the three of them worked tirelessly, sowing the future.

Sore from labor they hadn't performed in ages, Stella pulled out a high-end massager to soothe their aching muscles.

The next morning, Rosie took the dogs out and returned disheartened. The soil had cracked and dried overnight, robbing the seeds of a chance to sprout.

Undeterred, Stella selected drought-resistant plants like alfalfa, Bermuda grass, and centipede grass. They planted them carefully, watered them, and covered them with straw to shield them from the scorching sun.

They planted trees too – sweetgum, hawthorn, elephant tree, and oleander, all once collected from parks and forests and now thriving in Arcadia.

Finally, they sowed dandelions near the RV, a plant that blooms and spreads rapidly.

As Rosie watered the newly planted seeds and covered them with straw, they all hoped their hard work would bear fruit. They were determined to make this forsaken land their own.

Even the Arctic can sprout a garden; no way we can't conquer the wasteland!

But you know, dreams are like a Thanksgiving feast, and reality is more like a bare-bones diner at the side of the road...