18 Floors Above the Apocalypse



The outline of something pressed against the fabric of Stella's pocket, revealing its shape... it looked like... a gun!

No one dared to mess with Stella after that; eyes shifted away in silent understanding. In these times, it's best not to poke the bear. Forget about trying to find an easy mark, or it might be your last mistake.

The ferry sped across the water, and by the time they arrived at Area A, Jasper had just 10 minutes before his shift started. He hurried off to check in. Huh, when did old Mr. Howell start playing lapdog? The boss is a guy, for crying out loud.

The admin guy at East Base looked about forty-five, appeared rather lean, but carried himself with a military bearing. Definitely not the kind of guy who'd be chasing tail.

Hmph, just wait until we're back home; I'll sort him out.

Jasper, with Stella by his side, introduced her with ease, "This is my wife."

The boss, Mr. Jiang, used to run things at East Base and was now the second-in-command at Ocean Point Naval Station. He was the one who interviewed Jasper the day before and seemed quite impressed, saying Jasper reminded him of his younger self.

Stella pondered that everyone loves a pretty face, even battle-hardened officers. Mr. Jiang was all good and funny, except for being a bit on the short side, like a skinny cucumber. Even shorter than Stella, he probably just made the cut for the draft.

Justice had seen all kinds in his lifetime, and it only took a glance for him to recognize that these two were no ordinary folks. With so much work to be done at the base, his job was to scout for talent.

He couldn't help but talk shop, "Mrs. Ginger, may I ask where you were employed before? Would you be interested in serving the base? We can discuss compensation."

Stella smiled, "Thanks for the generous offer, but I was just a student before the calamity struck. Honestly, I'm not skilled in anything."

"Ah, a student, that's good." Justice's smile was as serene as a Buddha's. "Medical school, right?"

Stella's heart skipped a beat. How did he know? Did they exchange information with South Base, and she was checked out?

Justice's expression turned serious, and he saluted Stella and Jasper, "Comrades, thank you for bringing our hero home."

Stella was taken aback. No wonder Jasper was given such courtesy; it all made sense now. It must have been Hans and his team who brought back the ashes of the airman, and it happened that the admin department was the point of contact, and they knew her and Jasper's names.

Justice saluted them as a sign of gratitude, "Thank you both, not only for letting a hero return home but also for sharing the coordinates of Hope Point with our fellow survivors."

Initially, Hans didn't want to disclose it, but he couldn't just not ask. Those who owed a debt of gratitude to a hero needed to be remembered. So he not only asked but did so in detail, although there wasn't much Hans knew.

Exchanging glances, Jasper spoke up, "We did what we had to do."

Following protocol, Justice went over the incident again. Before telling Hans and the others, the trio and their dog had aligned their stories. Stella repeated it, "When the plane went down, our submarine just happened to be surfacing for air. He... he passed away from a heart attack..."

Justice didn't question it; the pilot had been diagnosed with a heart condition in the eighth year after the disaster and had been reassigned to an administrative position. The team had risked everything searching the ocean for a habitable place like Hope Point, losing many along the way, including the pilot.

Eventually, they ran out of people to send, and after his persistent requests, they made an exception for him. The base had grown to over 12,000 people, thanks in no small part to him, but still... No, he had anticipated the worst outcome, which is why he insisted on returning to the skies.

If only the hospital systems hadn't collapsed, if only his medication hadn't run out...

Justice looked at Stella, "Stella, we've planned a hospital for the base, but we've lost too many medical staff. We're in dire need. Would you consider joining?"

What an olive branch...

Typical of Jasper's boss. Stella couldn't be too hasty in her response, "Does the hospital have medicine?"

"We've only got emergency supplies left, but the medicinal herb cultivation area is up and running. We'll overcome the shortage sooner or later."

Stella tactfully replied, "Treating patients is all about the medicine. I'm just a med student with mostly general ed under my belt. I don't know much about the field. You're already short on medicine; it wouldn't do to let a novice like me botch things up."

Justice caught on; she wasn't keen on joining the hospital. He was just making connections. Even if she said yes, she still had to pass an interview with the hospital.

Justice laughed heartily, "You make a good point, Stella, but you're being too modest. When the hospital is stocked up, I hope you won't turn us down then."Content rights by NôvelDr//ama.Org.

Stella joined in the laughter.

After the pleasantries, Jasper officially started his new job, and Stella didn't want to distract him. Instead, she took a stroll around Area A and stumbled upon a trading center. The officials were actually selling sea salt.

Stella inquired, "Is the salt from evaporated sea water safe?"

The clerk reassured her, "Absolutely safe. We've been producing and consuming sea salt from the East Base for years without any issues."

The sea salt was a caramel color,

probably from being baked at high temperatures after extraction. Viruses Kate heat, and since salt

isn't organic, they can't ren Salt

et

in it.

Even if some survived the extraction, baking it for a couple of hours would Kill them off for good.

Looking at the price, it cost a day's worth of a survivor's rations but would last a month - truly a fair deal. Salt was essential for combating hyponatremia, a common survivor's ailment, and the base's initiative deserved applause.

Besides salt, the trading center facilitated bartering of goods. Survivors could list items they didn't need and state what they were looking for. Others with those items could swap them, with the base taking a small service fee.

Honestly, it was like an official

second-hand dealer. The fees

weren't exorbitant, but it lacked the

convenience of someone like

Monkey who made house calls and had a pleasant way of dealing. With limited belongings left after their ocean ordeal, the trading center's items were mostly worn clothes and

miscellaneous goods, with most

people looking for medicine, food, or seeds.

Area A had more than just a marketplace; it also housed various department offices, a hospital, and agricultural zones. After getting a lay of the land, Stella took the ferry back to Area B.

She ran into Justice again, who was

accompanied by a few middle-aged men in military uniforms, all heavy hitters judging by their epaulets.

Listening to their conversation,

seemed they were inspecting the progress of construction projects and the living conditions of the survivors across the different areas.

Justice was Stella's escort but she quietly sat in a corner without greeting anyone. Halfway through their journey, Stella was lulled into a drowsy state by the sea breeze, only to be suddenly disturbed by an urgent voice.

"Commander Sykes," Justice said anxiously, "where's your medication?"

Stella opened her eyes and saw him supporting a man in his early fifties next to him. The man was pale, his expression one of pain, clutching his chest tightly.

Instantly, the other officers nearby became agitated. "Commander, where's your heart medicine?"