18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 583

Miss Salvage’s reputation was the buzz of the base, not just for her sudden wealth but for her skyrocketing military rank. The single ladies at the base were all aflutter, eager to snag one of these golden bachelors. Marrying one of them promised a life of comfort and security.

Determined to make connections, they pulled out all the stops. Take Jake, for instance. He was just strolling down the street when a woman recognized him and started chasing him, insisting they could get married right away—and not just any marriage, but one that included starting a family. Poor Jake almost twisted his ankle trying to get away. He was chased for three whole blocks.

Jake wasn’t the only target; the whole team was swamped with attention. Hopefuls loitered outside their homes, hoping for a chance encounter. The team shared their tales, finding the situation both annoying and amusing.

Stella, happily married, didn’t have these issues. As she picked cotton and munched on popcorn, she teased, “So, do you guys want to get hitched or not?”

She stuffed her bag with cotton, sneakily mixing in Arcadia’s yield to boost her haul. Without exception, Jake and the others shook their heads. Despite envying Stella and Captain Hawke's loving relationship, they lacked the confidence to find partners amidst the chaos of the apocalypse.

First off, the unpredictability of human nature made finding true love seem impossible when even basic needs were a struggle. Who among those approaching them after their windfall didn’t have an ulterior motive? Plus, they were picky.

And if they did find someone, their work was too sensitive. Any accidental leak could be disastrous for Stella. They hadn’t forgotten why the Salvage Squad was formed. Their greatest value was helping the base grow stronger.

So, they decided to hold off on finding partners until after their mission was complete and life at the base stabilized. If it was meant to be, it would happen; if not, so be it.

In less than a day, the team harvested 2,500 pounds of cotton. Workers from the newly founded textile mill weighed it and carted it off. The mill, set up in time for the cotton harvest, was easy to operate thanks to equipment from Kindle Chest.

The 2,500 pounds of cotton would serve as practice. They hoped to weave some fabric from it. After resolving the previous clothing crisis with 26 boxes of fabric, mastering textile production was the next step. Once cotton farming was up and running, clothing issues would be a thing of the past.

After the cotton harvest, even the stalks were put to use for windbreaks and sand stabilization.

That evening, Stella invited the team over for a homemade hot pot feast at the farm. Ginger, scallions, garlic, chili, and greens—all fresh from the farm. Stella even brought out a freshly slaughtered chicken, saying, “Home-raised, just for you guys after a hard day’s work.”

“Eating with Stella means there’s always meat on the table,” Jake joked. “We should work here every day!”

Years felt like days during the catastrophe, but time flew by nonetheless. Before she knew it, Stella had been at Griffith Base for a year. Over the course of that year, the climate had been wildly unpredictable, ranging from torrential rains and scorching heat to perpetual night and day, though none lasted long.

Survivors complained bitterly, but they sensed a gradual shift toward calmer weather. Could it mean the end of the disaster was near? Inspired by this belief, they gritted their teeth and persevered.

After much trial and error, and after wasting half their cotton, the textile mill finally mastered the complex production process, turning cotton into cloth for the trade center. The Salvage Squad continued to find valuable petroleum derivatives near the ruins—solvents, lubricants, paraffin, asphalt, petroleum coke, and more. Following the principle of “better to err on the side of caution,” they brought back everything they found.

Upon Stella’s sixth return, Rosie greeted her with a bottle of pure, natural peanut oil, exclaiming, “Sis, this is from the peanuts we pressed at the farm.” Soon they’d harvest corn, sunflowers, and rapeseed, which meant more oil.

Each time Stella returned from sea, she’d climb the highest mound of Griffith ruins, which couldn’t be called a wasteland anymore. The entire hill was now planted with mulberry trees, and more varieties would be added once the soil improved. With a steady supply of fresh water for irrigation, the success rate of afforestation shot up. Though they still needed to replant occasionally, at least the sandstorms that hit the heart of Griffith no longer carried gravel heavy enough to injure people.

Standing on the hill and looking out, green shoots had spread as far as the eye could see. The seventh sea trip took even longer, covering three hundred nautical miles around the ruins. The transport ship wasn’t full yet, but the resources gathered would suffice for Griffith for many years to come.