18 Floors Above the Apocalypse
Chapter 361

Stella made her way to the reception area, but the attendant was running around like a headless chicken, completely clueless about the person she was desperate to replace.

"The disaster hit us like a ton of bricks. The tornado scattered debris everywhere, injuring many, and the downpour triggered landslides all over the place. We've got a whole mess of folks-five or six hundred-bunked down here. We can't keep track of everyone just yet. You can either go look for your person yourself or wait until we can catch a breath to help you."

Stella couldn't wait; she had to start searching through the sea of tents herself.

There were only so many military-grade tents to go around, and they were swarming with people. Forget getting some shut-eye; some folks were lucky if they even had a spot to stand.

Everyone was on edge, clutching their belongings tight, eyes darting around suspiciously.

You never knew who you could trust. There were already tales of folks getting their supplies swiped right from under their noses.

After all, in times like these, those supplies were as good as gold.

Stella peeked into one tent after another, each time meeting a wall of resistance and suspicion. Despite her raincoat, the seasoned eyes of survivors were sharp; a quick glance was all it took to size her up.

After checking out half a dozen tents, Stella realized she was being followed. She pretended not to notice, stubbornly continuing her search.

Soon enough, a voice piped up behind her. "Hey, miss, you looking for someone? I've been around here a couple of days; know the lay of the land pretty well. Maybe I can help you out."

Stella ignored them, and they kept yammering on at her side.

Finally, fed up, Stella whipped out a Swiss Army knife from her backpack and hissed, "Scram!"

Did they think she was blind? t was obvious they were just trying to lure her to some secluded spot to rob her-and who knows what else.

The blade gleamed ominously.

The woman, taking one look at Stella's menacing glare, choked on her words and backed off quickly, not wanting to test Stella's resolve.

Stella wasn't the only one looking for a missing piece of her world. Many survivors, hoping against hope to replace their loved ones, had flocked to the camp.

After turning over twenty tents with no luck, anxiety gnawed at Stella as she started rifling through private quarters.

"Hey, who the hell are you? Why are you messing with my tent? Are you crazy?"

She was willing to take a few harsh words if it meant replaceing her person.

Some shrugged it off after a brief explanation, while others had less patience, cursing her out thoroughly. But Stella didn't let it get to her.

After searching every last shelter without a trace of news, she felt a complex storm of emotions brewing inside her.

So many ordinary folks had made it through; why hadn't he?

Exhaustion washed over her, and Stella felt like she was about to collapse when a hand reached out to steady her. "You okay there?"

Stella looked up, dizzy, "Is everyone accounted for here?"

"You're searching for someone?" The stranger steadied her. "I'm here for the same reason. Check out the tents behind the staff area. There's a few more there for the critically injured from the landslides." Stella munched on a candy bar for energy and waited for her head to stop spinning.

Sure enough, there were more tents behind the staff area.

After explaining her situation, a worker accompanied her, whispering, "Go in quietly, try not to wake the patients. Some are in shock; others are hanging by a thread. They all need their rest." Anyone not on death's door had been moved to the front of the camp.

With her heart in her throat, Stella searched each tent.

First trapped by the tornado, then buried under landslides, their weak bodies had barely held on. The lack of oxygen was the final straw. Even if they were dug out, there was no medicine or equipment to save them. It was all a cruel game of chance.

Stella fought against the suffocating aura of despair, inspecting each face with care.

She wanted to replace them, yet dreaded what she might see.

Still no sign of them. Relief mingled with confusion.

As she was about to leave, a new group of rescuers rushed in with stretchers. "Come on, come on, lend a hand here! These folks were buried for quite a while; let's see if we can save them." Covered in mud, their features were indiscernible.

Stella watched as the injured were carried in, her emotions a tangled mess.

"Hey, sis?"

A weak voice called from behind her.

Stella spun around in shock.

A young girl caked in mud stood a short distance away, looking at her.

She was about to fall, and Stella rushed to catch her, "Rosie."

"Sis," Rosie managed a faint smile before passing out.

"Rosie!" Stella called out, frantic, "Where's your brother? Where is he?"

She carried Rosie to a nearby empty tent, changed her muddy clothes, and cleaned her up with some warm water she'd secretly mixed from her stash.

Rosie was burning up with fever, her body marked with wounds and terribly emaciated.

How had she survived all this time?

Stella quickly gave her some fever reducer and added antibiotics for the cut on her head. After settling Rosie, she hurried to the next tent.

None of the recent arrivals matched Jasper's build, yet Stella clung to hope.

She couldn't replace Jasper, but to her astonishment, she stumbled upon Angela and Kitty.

The four of them had left Griffith earlier; how had they ended up behind, and with Rosie?

"Doc, how are they doing?"

"They've been buried for a long time. One has an infected arm wound. It's touch and go whether they'll make it."

With only the basics for treatment, the doctor was too busy to chat and ushered Stella out.

Back with Rosie, who had just come to, Stella broke the news. "He wasn't with you?" Rosie was equally devastated, "Brother... he..."

"You know he'll pull through," Stella reassured her, and herself.

As Rosie's consciousness cleared, she grew anxious, "Sis, how are Angela and Kitty?"

Angela was in better shape, just suffering from the suffocation and bruises, but Kitty's situation was far more severe...

Hearing about Kitty, Rosie was wracked with guilt, "Kitty... she got hurt trying to save me."

It wasn't just the cut on the arm; Kitty had shielded her with her own body at the moment of the collapse.

Stella sat in shock, the words swirling in her head like a tornado. She could believe Angela might be involved, but Kitty? That was a revelation that rocked her to the core.

She had been holed up in the tent for nearly an hour, mulling over the details of Rosie's encounter with the two. Meanwhile, Rosie, worn out and under the weather, had gobbled down some food and medicine, and now lay in a drowsy slumber.

The silence from next door was deafening, and worry gnawed at Stella's insides. She feared for Angela and Kitty's well-being. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she lifted the tent flap and slipped inside once more, determined to uncover the truth.