18 Floors Above the Apocalypse
Chapter 359

Seven women barged into the room, three of them ready for a fight, clashing fiercely with the men inside. Rosie, quick on her feet, pocketed her razor-sharp blade and, with a flick of her wrist, sent a peanut flying at the sound of reinforcements rushing in with axes.

Her brother had taught her well-always aim for the head. Chaos erupted, with screams of women and a constant stream of men trying to help. Rosie, burning with fever and barely holding on, plunged her knife into one of the attackers, pushing him back into a corner. She was so weak she barely managed to finish him off, and didn't notice another blade swinging towards her from behind.

"Rosie, watch out!"

Someone shoved her aside just in time. Rosie slammed into the wall and saw it was Kitty who had saved her. Kitty instinctively raised her arm to block the attack, and blood spurted out. The attacker was relentless, cursing as he swung his knife down again. Rosie raised her gun and aimed for his forehead.

Bang. Another one down.

Panicked, she blurted out, "Kitty, you okay?"

Kitty, pale as a ghost, gritted her teeth. "Not dead yet. Let's finish these bastards first." She then knocked down another man, pinned his neck under her foot, and despite the blood gushing from her arm, hammered him with her fists.

Angela lifted a chair and smashed it over another man's head, sending him straight to the afterlife. As more enemies stormed in, the three women fought with everything they had-stabbing with daggers, hacking with knives, and firing whenever they could. Thanks to her brother's rigorous training, every time Rosie pulled the trigger, it was a guaranteed hit.

They had guns. The women had guns!

Neither Kitty nor Angela were saints; years in a post-apocalyptic world had toughened them. Rosie might have been well-protected, but this wasn't her first kill. It was either kill or be killed.

The gunfire finally made the men outside think twice about rushing in. The remaining men in the room were terrified of the three women who seemed to have gone berserk, and in their panic, they grabbed a terrified woman and threatened, "Don't come any closer, or I'll slit her throat!"

Kitty picked up a bloody axe from the floor and tossed it. Her injured arm threw off her aim, but the blade still struck the man. Damn, these people threw away lives like they were nothing. Well, Kitty wasn't about to let anyone dictate her fate. There were still enemies outside and bullets were running low. Rosie took the knife Angela handed her and threw it at an oncoming attacker. The blade buried itself in his heart. The man fell heavily, eyes wide in death.

No one dared enter now, and the room was littered with the corpses of at least a dozen men. Few other women were left; they either panicked and ran to their deaths or hid and were killed by the men. Such was life in the apocalypse-cheap as dirt. Even without today's events, their fates would have been bleak. Choices existed, but the outcomes were always the same.

Rosie cut a relatively clean piece of cloth from one of the men's bodies and hastily bandaged Kitty. "Thanks, Kitty." If it weren't for her taking the hit, Kitty wouldn't have been injured. The cut on Kitty's arm was deep, blood flowing freely.

"Silly kid, no need for thanks," Kitty said weakly, managing a smile. "If your sister-in-law hadn't given me that anti-virus medicine back then, I'd be long dead."

All in all, she owed Stella and needed to repay the favor someday.

Hearing Stella's name, Angela asked with concern, "Rosie, where's Stella?"

Rosie's expression darkened. "We got separated by a sandstorm. I have no idea how my brother and sister-in-law are doing."

A sudden sandstorm had caught all survivors off-guard, and Kitty and Angela had lost track of Cody and Lukas in the vast desert.

Hopefully, they were all safe and would have the chance to reunite. But now was not the time for sorrow; there were still enemies to deal with.

Kitty's wound was deep, and the bone was visible. After being trapped in a sandstorm for days and already weak, she wouldn't last long if the bleeding couldn't be stopped.

Rosie, composed in the face of crisis, applied pressure points to stop the bleeding, knowledge passed down by Stella for life-threatening situations. To her relief, it worked, and the bleeding slowed.

While Rosie bandaged Kitty, Angela stood guard to prevent any villains outside from swarming in. All three were weak, but they couldn't dwell on the carnage around them. They scavenged for food left on tables to fill their stomachs. Only with full bellies could they face their adversaries.

Fortunately, the den had just over thirty people, and more than half had died in that room, all high in the hierarchy. The remaining lackeys, leaderless and wary of the gun in Rosie's hand, were effectively intimidated.

Rosie's moves were clean, decisive, and merciless. It was the first time in many years that the others had seen her in action, and they were impressed by how well Stella and Jasper had trained her. The girl who always seemed sweet and delicate had turned out to be incredibly fierce.

After a quick meal, the trio set to work, dividing the tasks among themselves, with Angela leading the charge. As soon as they stepped outside the room, attackers with knives lunged at them, shouting, "Kill!"

Angela blocked the incoming blade with a steel pipe as Kitty lunged forward, stabbing him repeatedly in the chest. Years of cooperation had honed their teamwork to near perfection, requiring no extra communication.

The next assailant rushed at them, and Rosie took him down with a single, precise shot. Two men down in a flash, the remaining ones began to panic, not expecting to face such formidable women.

Angela bellowed, "Your boss is already chopped into eighteen pieces. Those who don't want to die, run! Those who do, come at us, and we'll send you to join him!"

Her voice was full of vigor, and she smashed a doorframe with one punch, the epitome of intimidating power. The truth was, the punch hurt so much that she nearly spat out blood, but whether in boxing or law enforcement, the key to facing an enemy was to maintain a strong presence that could deter them. Angela had that down to a science.

The den was small, and with the top dogs dead, the remaining flunkies were just that flunkies. Seeing the fierce women take out two of their own and knowing the young girl had a gun, they lost their nerve. Nothing mattered more than their lives, and they fled without a second thought.

Their departure left the women deflated, barely able to stand. Rosie pinched her thigh to snap herself out of the daze. "Come on, ladies, those goons could be back any minute. We gotta make tracks."

The dust storm outside had finally settled down. Angela and Kitty were on edge, itching to replace Cody and Lukas. "Alright," Angela agreed, "let's pack up and hit the road."

The trio stuck together, scanning the cave with a wary eye to make sure nobody was lurking in the shadows before beginning to gather their belongings. They stumbled upon a stash of supplies sooner than expected. Assorted bags of different sizes littered the ground, spoils taken from the unfortunate survivors or scavenged from the dead outside.

Kitty was in bad shape, and Rosie wanted to replace some medical supplies to patch her up. But in a world that had been going to hell in a handbasket for years, good luck replaceing a place that wasn't short on meds and missing doctors.