18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

Regrettably, to the raiders, it was like scratching an itch through a boot. They had not even left a mark. Their bullets couldn't pierce the glass, so in a fit of rage, they aimed at the tires. "Damn it," they cursed, "can't even shoot through a tire. Where are my armor-piercing rounds? Where the hell are they?"

Stella didn't give a damn about their impotent fury; she just revved up her engine and roared away.

Some foolhardy thug, with more guts than brains, raised his gun and charged. Poor guy didn't even value his own life-who else would?

Stella plowed straight into him and blasted through the wall, crunching over the broken bricks and debris with a fearless drive.

No obstacle was truly an obstacle; she raced through the darkness with reckless abandon. It was a rush like no other.

As they cruised through the old town, things felt a lot safer, although now and then, some thug would jump out only to lose his nerve at the sight of the marauder's massive vehicle. They made it to the outskirts of Newtown unimpeded and switched cars. Flying in and driving back would be too showy.

Dressed in bulletproof vests and steel helmets, they rode their trusty scooters home. Only after a little excursion did they realize that Newtown had been cracking down in the past few days, and no thugs dared cause trouble. Stella had anticipated this; otherwise, she wouldn't dare ride a scooter.

The military police had cleared out the hideout. They would surely strike while the iron was hot to interrogate the three injured men, uncovering their ties to the city's gangs. Then, they took them down with a thunderous force. After a heavy crackdown, who would dare to run into the line of fire?

Anyone foolhardy enough to do so would end up at the waste-to-energy plant. Their remains would light up the eternal night-and never let the light dim!

Stella didn't rush to collect fuel after hiding the helicopter. It was too soon and would draw attention, possibly allowing the Porras family to deduce their route and location. This would be troublesome if they sent trackers. One truckload a day, it took four days to complete the collection.

Sure enough, as soon as they left the neighborhood, someone followed but was led on a wild goose chase and stealthily eliminated.

The Porras family didn't make any big moves. It was just small-time thugs trying to scavenge around the villas. The thugs didn't get any spoils. Instead, they paid with their lives.

Once everything was secured, Stella could finally relax. She was now a proud owner of her own aircraft. It was time to divvy up the loot back in Arcadia.

Stella grabbed the radio and called Lukas, telling him and the others to come over. They arrived quickly, all with smiles on their faces.

Stella brought out the ledger. "I've taken stock of the supplies and noted the quantities here. Does everything look correct to you?"

When life and death hung on supplies, and you'd been scrapping through the apocalypse, nobody was a fool. They all knew what was at stake. A quick glance, and they knew the score.

Stella was straightforward. "The helicopter and 100 tons of fuel from the Porras family are in our hands. Do you want to split it or trade for supplies?"

Cody pondered for a moment. "What are you thinking, Stella?"

"The helicopter, I'm keeping for sure. If you want a share, we can all use it together. It might just save our skins if we ever face an inescapable disaster. If not, I'll find a way to trade for equivalent goods for you." They considered the share of supplies they'd get-tea, salt, liquor, medicine-could be traded for food. Along with 1500 pounds of rice, they'd be set for years.

After exchanging looks, Kitty spoke up, "Stella, we don't want the helicopter."

Stella was taken aback but replied, "Well, tell me what you need, and I'll make the exchange."

"We don't need anything," Kitty said firmly. "We underestimated their firepower. If it weren't for you and Jasper joining in, we wouldn't have gotten the helicopter and fuel, let alone made it back alive."

There's a saying, friends should help each other out, but over the years, Stella had helped Angela and Cody more times than they could count, and they had tallied it all in their hearts.

Kitty had sought Stella out, despite the others' disagreement, to increase their chances of success and because they had pulled off some underhanded deals in the past. In a world ending, who would complain about too many supplies? But this ordeal had shown her the chasm between them. Stella lacked for nothing, and Kitty's initial proposition now seemed absurd.

After returning, the four reflected deeply. This wasn't a partnership of equals. Even though the value of the helicopter and fuel far exceeded the cave's loot, splitting it would be unfair, especially since Stella and Jasper were interested in it.

What was truly commendable was that Stella and Jasper didn't leverage their upper hand to claim a larger share of the profits. Their discretion was their own, but that didn't mean Kitty and the others could feign ignorance. Since their return to Griffith, Stella had been a great help this they had accounted for in their hearts.

What they could offer, Stella didn't need. After much thought, giving up the helicopter and fuel seemed the right thing to do.

Stella was a bit surprised by their decision. She definitely wanted the aircraft, but as everyone had their own households, she still needed to keep up appearances. "That won't do; it's too much of a loss for you."

Cody and the others were adamant. "Stella, this is our mutual decision. We're all family here; no need for formalities.

The helicopter and fuel are valuable, but they're not worth more than our lives. Whether it was back in the day on the 18th floor or these past few years back in Griffith, you and Jasper have helped us a lot. We know it. If you don't accept, it wouldn't sit right with us, and we couldn't continue this friendship."

Stella observed their expressions secretly, her tone definitive. "It's not right... it's really not..."

The back-and-forth refusal was firm on both sides, nearly reaching a heated argument. Finally, Stella conceded with feigned reluctance. "Alright, I'll accept it. But if you ever need anything in the future, just let me know."

Taking the aircraft and fuel was a major gain, and Stella knew it, "We'll keep the helicopter. The supplies from the cave are yours to share."

"No, we'll split it all evenly."

The crew knew all too well that if it hadn't been for Stella stepping in to negotiate, the Porras clan wouldn't have coughed up the resources so easily. They would've been tight-fisted and would've maybe shelled out a ton of grain at most. Stella wasn't looking for a reward, but her reluctance to accept anything was almost heating up the room, and finally, Cody and the others backed off. There were unspoken words hanging in the air, yet a sense of relief lay in everyone's heart. Still, a proper celebration was in order-after all, they'd secured an aircraft and fuel.

From the bustling Arcadia market, Stella had picked up two hefty salmon, each weighing about three pounds. She had hoped to treat them all. "How about we celebrate with a salmon sauerkraut feast tonight? I traded for these beauties," she suggested. Cody and the gang had been slurping down bland cornmeal porridge day in and day out, bland enough to make birds fall asleep mid-flight. The mere mention of salmon made their eyes sparkle, and they jumped at the chance to prep the fish.

The salmon sauerkraut hot pot was the perfect mix of tangy and spicy. In the biting cold, the meal was nothing short of divine. It felt like a throwback to the carefree days on the 18th floor-simple, relaxed, yet utterly satisfying...

Whether the memories were real or imagined, it was hard not to cling to something, anything, in this world of cold indifference. Especially something that felt like warmth.