18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 582

Poppy strolled over with a confident swagger, "Hey, Stella."

Stella had taken quite a liking to her. "Poppy, you're looking more formidable every day."

"These folks, if you don't keep them in check, they start acting up. We've already had to let go of a few for sticky fingers."

Some people just can't help themselves, thinking they're too slick to get caught. But losing their job over a couple of eggs? Not worth it.

As Poppy led Stella and her husband around the farm, she gave a quick rundown. "Stella, bro-in-law, we've got 42 egg-laying hens, 6 roosters, 36 ducks, 5 drakes..."

There were also geese, quails, and even some guinea fowls.

The numbers weren’t massive, but with hundreds of chicks and ducklings growing up, they’d be multiplying tenfold in no time.

Stella was thrilled but didn't forget her advice. "Keep the farm clean, alright? Regular disinfecting, so we don't get any nasty bugs."

"Don’t worry, Stella. We’ve got a regular lime-spreading schedule for disinfecting," Poppy said, beaming with pride. "And a bit of lime in their diet boosts egg production too."

Stella nodded, impressed. Poppy was getting more professional by the day, putting her unreliable uncle to shame.

As Stella stepped out, the family dogs, with their traitorous hearts, bounded over from next door.

"Bark! Bark!"

"Howl! Howl!"

Stella gave each of them a couple of pats.

These scamps would ditch their own pups as quick as tossing out the trash, not even worried about them getting snatched.

Snowflake, the picked-on pooch, settled down promptly to nurse her litter after a light scolding.

Cooper, the shameless hound, came begging for a treat only to receive Stella's reproachful swat, his tail drooping in dismay.

Being a pet parent was a thankless job sometimes, and when Cooper tried buttering up the new trainer Jasper, he quickly learned flattery would get him nowhere.

Once the pups were fed, Stella and her crew moved on to the neighboring farm.

The cotton blossoms were just budding when they left, and now they returned to find the fields blanketed in white.

The leaves had wilted, the branches yellowed, but the cotton stood out, pure and defiant.

Despite the greenhouses protecting them from the whims of soil and weather, the yield was still disappointing compared to the pre-disaster days.

But the fact that they had a harvest at all was enough to lift spirits.

With less than ten acres in cotton, the workers were meticulous, yet they'd be lucky to get 200 kilograms per acre — half of what it used to be.

Stella’s mind briefly wandered to the cotton back at Arcadia, which was faring better than their greenhouse counterparts.

They’d have to harvest soon and mix it in — not a lot, but enough to boost the overall yield.

The team members, idle and available, would be perfect for picking the cotton.

Rosie was over at the herb greenhouse, directing workers as they picked the faster-growing varieties.

A few hospital staffers were waiting to cart the herbs back for drying and processing, so they pitched in with the harvest as well.

Compared to six months ago, everyone seemed to have undergone a subtle transformation.

The sweet potatoes, only a few acres’ worth, had turned a rich green and were nearly ready to be dug up.

When they saw Stella and her husband return, Rosie dropped her work and fluttered over like a butterfly.

She’d slimmed down, her skin less pale but glowing with health.

Back in the break room, Stella shut the door and dished out treats to Rosie and the dogs.

With the afternoon free, the couple decided to stick around and lend a hand on the farm.

The farm had grown from a mere 20 acres to over 100.