18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

Jasper knew he had to walk a fine line, balancing relationships with the deftness of a tightrope walker. Both he and Stella had been through the wringer, twice over. They'd seen the darker side of human nature, and it left them wary. Stella eyed Jasper, concern clear in her gaze. "What if one day Rosie and I have a falling out over Arcadia? What then?"

It was a loaded question, without a doubt.

Jasper couldn't provide an answer to a hypothetical, and there was no standard response. "Stella, Arcadia is yours. Don't borrow trouble."

She didn't press him further. Why consume themselves with what-ifs? It would only lead to paranoia and unnecessary problems.

The world was in chaos. Continents collided, landscapes fell, and nothing was the same anymore.

The terrain shifted, ocean currents rerouted, and predictability became a thing of the past. In the morning, you'd drift east; by afternoon, the currents would veer south, changing moods like a temperamental child and keeping everyone on edge. Stella encountered various survivors at sea-lifeboats, makeshift rafts, kayaks, and life rings.

It was like a maritime free-for-all, everyone working their own kind of magic.

Some drifted away with the current, while others passed close by, slapping the sides of their lifeboats, crying out, "Help, help me!"

Blonde hair and blue eyes-no telling where that foreigner hailed from.

Stella had enough on her plate just keeping herself safe, so she turned a blind eye.

After days adrift, the tumult of the sea calmed, and the sun broke through the clouds. Stella pulled the curtains closed and took a midday nap.

By the time Rosie awoke, the lifeboat was securely on board a yacht, which floated serenely on the water's surface.

Stella emerged, stretched in the sunlight, and planted her feet on deck, so full of joy she couldn't help but jump around.

Cooper, previously wilted, sprang to life, wagging his tail and circling them with energetic barks. "Woof!"

They were alive again.

Adrift without a destination, they had no plans to cruise about in the yacht. They'd just float wherever the sea took them, saving a good deal on fuel.

But they didn't drop anchor either. The ocean's mystery was unsettling, and they feared a sudden catastrophe might not even afford them time to weigh anchor. With no wind or waves, the yacht crept along sluggishly.

Stella brought out a parasol and a beach chair, setting a glass of juice at her side. If life was a constant escape, they might as well enjoy the little pleasures.

Despite the gentle sunshine, the UV rays were fierce. Jasper, ever the attentive one, offered to apply sunscreen to Stella, who giggled uncontrollably at the ticklish sensation. Rosie covered Cooper's eyes with her hands and whispered, "Shh, don't look."

After basking for a couple of hours and enjoying a relaxed lunch in the sea breeze, Stella retreated to her room for a rest.

The sea might seem peaceful, but Jasper was always cautious. He stayed on guard.

"Do you want to fish?" Stella asked, offering an outlet.

Arcadia was equipped with top-notch fishing gear, probably pilfered from Director Feng's study. It smacked of luxury, likely a six-figure asset.

Jasper wasn't much for fishing but was open to giving it a try.

Stella prepped the gear and bait for him, warning with a grin, "Just don't get dragged off by a shark."

Jasper smiled back. "If I get dragged off by a shark, you'll be a widow."

She touched his chin affectionately and went off to sleep, content.

Aboard the luxurious yacht, the bed was a dream, rivaling the comfort of a million-dollar mattress.

After a restful two-hour nap, Stella, concerned about Jasper's safety, slipped into casual clothes and returned to the deck.

He was still there, and it looked like he'd caught something.

Curious, Stella leaned over to peek into the bucket but didn't expect Jasper to be wrestling with his catch at that exact moment. His warning came too late, "Watch out!" Already too late, a fish leaped from the bucket, aiming straight for Stella's nose. Used to rough seas, her reflexes were sharp, and she dodged just in time.

The fish splashed back into the bucket, water spraying onto the deck.

Stella was flabbergasted. "What on earth did you fish up?"

The fish put up a fight, and in the moment of distraction, it got away. Jasper reeled in his line, "A yellow croaker."

Stella couldn't believe it. Since when were yellow croakers so aggressive that they'd go for the kill?

She covered the bucket with a net and peered in again.

No way, this wasn't a yellow croaker; it was a barracuda!

Ugly as sin, with a protruding jaw lined with serrated teeth and topped with a pair of menacing eyes.

It was the stuff of nightmares.

And the creature was fierce. It thrashed against the bucket every time Stella drew close.

Jasper joined her, "Take another look. Is it a barracuda or a yellow croaker?"

Upon closer inspection, Stella was shocked to find it was indeed a yellow croaker, just grossly enlarged and deformed, making it appear incredibly vicious. Wow, could ancient viruses be so potent as to turn a yellow croaker into this?

But it wasn't just ugly; it was wildly aggressive. It attacked anything that seemed foreign.

Stella, with nothing better to do, engaged in a bizarre face-off with the fish.

She'd lean in, it would jump.

She'd pull back, it would jump.

It was determined to have the last word.

Eventually, the fish succumbed to exhaustion, belly-up.

Jasper couldn't help but laugh. "Are you acting like a kid?" Even Rosie wasn't that childish.

Stella rolled her eyes. "If I turn into a child, will you not want me anymore?"

If he dared, she'd feed him to the fish.

Jasper was well-trained by now. "Doesn't matter if you turn into a child or a yellow croaker, I'm sticking with you."

Her liveliness was a relief, better than brooding sickness.

Stella tossed the dead fish back to the sea, her playful mood vanished. "We need to be careful. One slip into the water and we're fish food." Even a bite could be troublesome.

Thankfully the virus wasn't airborne, but Stella still felt uneasy. She returned to her room to burn some herbs and turned on the air purifier.

As the saying goes, red sky at night, sailor's delight.

Rosie played with Cooper, their steps echoing as they ran up and down the decks.

Stella threw a ball, and Cooper leaped to catch it.

They sat in their beach chairs, watching the gleaming sea and the sinking sun.

The night grew colder without the sun. No moon, just the pitch black.

After half a glass of wine, they soaked in the steaming hot tub and fell into a deep sleep.

The deck resounded with a series of thuds, as if something heavy had been dropped with considerable force.

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh..."

"Thud, thud, thud..."

Soon after, Cooper's voice bellowed out, a mix of fury and commanding presence.

Stella jolted awake, her heart pounding as she heard something slam against the window. She hastily yanked the curtains aside. "Holy smokes, what on earth is that!"