18 Floors Above the Apocalypse
Chapter 349

The community garden was the pride and joy of everyone in the close-knit town. So when two satellites came crashing down, tearing through the tender crops, Collin and the others were beside themselves, mouths filled with bitter curses. Disaster struck without warning, leaving humanity powerless. Just in Griffith and Swan Hill alone, there were several satellite crashes, and who knew where else they had landed? It was as if the universe was conspiring to wipe out mankind. Stella saw how heartbroken Collin was but didn't know how to comfort him. "Coach," she started, "maybe... just maybe, this disaster will pass someday."

Together, they salvaged what they could from the wreckage of the greenhouse, desperately trying to save some of the medicinal herbs.

By the time they got back to the neighborhood, night had completely fallen.

Rosie, glancing up by chance, gasped and pointed, "Look, a shooting star!"

Stella looked up to see the streak of light glide through the night sky before vanishing into the darkness.

She remembered being a child, how thrilled she would be at the sight of a shooting star. Now, the joy was gone. Those weren't stars; they were satellites falling from orbit, each one a potential harbinger of doom.

Without any bomb shelters, the survivors had to dig their own basements or reinforce their homes. The random nature of these accidents was more terrifying than any predictable disaster-you never knew when the reaper would come for you. Stella visited the Porras family every few days to check on their wounds and remove stitches. Shane had been lucky; a gash on his forehead and a mild concussion, six stitches that were ready to come out.

Little Tommy's once bright and cute face now bore a jagged scar, his smile gone. "Grandma, where's Mommy?"

Aunt Linda of the Porras family tried to stay strong. "Mommy's gone to a faraway place, honey. She'll come back when you're grown up."

Illness and injuries had thrown the Porras family into chaos.

Bran managed to spare some medical supplies for Stella. "Sis, this is for you, your payment."

Stella was taken aback by his generosity. "This is too much."

It was indeed a lot, it felt like half of the Porras family's supplies.

"Keep it, sis. If it feels like too much, you can help out the Porras family when we're in need," Bran said with a weary smile. "Consider it stored with you. If another satellite hits, at least we won't be wiped out completely." Stella hesitated before agreeing. "Okay."

The load was hefty, and Bran had it delivered to Building 50.

The Porras family had been saved by the quick actions of their neighbors.

After some thought, Shane said, "Let's prepare gifts for each family, a token of thanks. For those who have been especially helpful, invite them over for a meal, but keep it low-key. It's important not to create envy."

The disaster had made it clear to him that no individual or family was powerful enough to stand against nature's wrath. The bonds with neighbors were vital.

Especially Building 50. Without their immediate help, many Porras would have perished, making all the efforts to maintain good relations over the years worthwhile.

Shane glanced at his son. "You did okay this time, didn't waste a chopper and a hundred tons of fuel for nothing."

A jab at his pride, and Bran had no comeback.

At dusk, Austin received a gift-a whole box of fresh meat, courtesy of Buddy.

As a middleman with his ear to the ground, he knew others received some rice and smoked meat, but his share was excessively lavish.

Quick-witted as always, he immediately invited his neighbors. "Jasper, sister-in-law, Bran's treating us. Do you fancy hotpot or something else?"

They were indifferent. "Whatever you like."

Their culinary skills had improved slightly over the years, thanks to Rosie's occasional coaching and Monkey's frequent visits. They planned to cook themselves, bringing out their treasured liquor, but unsurprisingly, they failed miserably. In the end, they settled for a hotpot, with Stella providing the base broth.

Once everyone had eaten their fill, the toasts began. "Here's to you, sis, and brother-in-law, and to you, Old Qin. We wouldn't have made it without you... it's all in this drink."

Several toasts later, they were drinking non-stop, even chugging from the bottle.

However, this was the hard stuff, brothers!

Austin noticed Bran was troubled but didn't advise him to drink less.

With satellites continually crashing to earth, one moment they were eating and drinking, and the next, they could be dead.

The survivors on earth were like rats, scurrying for cover, always at risk of being squashed by the celestial game of whack-a-mole.

Years of pent-up frustration had taken their toll, and it was a miracle they hadn't all gone mad.

Restless, Austin joined in the drinking, his speech soon slurred.

He burped, a look of confused melancholy on his face. "Jasper, sister-in-law, do you think this disaster will ever end?"

Neither Jasper nor Stella could give a definitive answer; they didn't know either.

Stella downed a couple of shots. "Let's hope for a day when it ends."

"And when will that be, when the satellites stop falling? What's waiting for us then?" Austin followed suit, blowing into the bottle. "Or say, the day they stop, what then?"

The mood was getting heavy, almost depressing Stella. "Who cares what's next? We live while we can; if we can't, we hope to go quickly."

To be crushed outright rather than slowly eroded away by acid rain or paralyzed like Bentley, begging for death.

Bran ruffled his hair like a drunken dog. "Sis, how would you want to go?"

Stella glanced at him. "If I had a choice, I'd like to die beautifully."

Bran's eyes were hazy. "Yeah, you deserve a beautiful end, snagging a great guy like Jasper."

Err, no argument there. Stella served Jasper more food. "Thanks for everything."

They ate and drank until Bran was completely passed out on the table.

Austin couldn't help but reflect. "The third young master has it tough. From a life of leisure to carrying such a burden... must be tough on him."

He'd heard rumors; the old man was prepping Bran for leadership, letting go of many responsibilities.

An accident or tomorrow, it was hard to say which would come first. If the old man didn't pull through this time, the Porras family would be scattered to the winds.

A dynasty falling apart, with few likely to have a good end.

As a father, Austin empathized. If he were gone, his son Dylan would probably fare worse than Bran.

Stella believed in living for the moment, in savoring every bite of her cheeseburger and every sip of her milkshake because who knew if there would be another meal waiting around the corner?

In the end, it was Jasper who ended up carrying the inebriated Bran back home. The guy was tall and muscular, a real corn-fed farm boy. Austin, on the other hand, despite his best efforts, simply didn't have the brawn to haul Bran's dead weight.

Once they got back to Unit 50, they went through their nightly rituals of brushing teeth and freshening up before crawling into the camper van for some shut-eye.

Both Bran and Austin were out like lights in no time, but Jasper, with Stella snuggled beside him, lay wide awake. "Austin and Bran seemed like they were testing us tonight," he whispered.

Stella felt it too. "The whole neighborhood's been eyeing Unit 50 like we're some kind of barometer. Do you think they suspect us of something?"